Cost of Freedom

DNC Report from the street 5, by Daphne Webb

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 19:14:00 +0000

DNC Report from the street 5
by Daphne Webb

I’m exhausted today. I was going to get downtown by 9 this morning, but since I spent 4 hours witnessing the detaining of 200 protesters and ended up caught in a run because someone thought tear gas was coming, I just can’t get there and I have a booth at a delegate party tomorrow. Weird. I was sent a terrific description of what happened last night so I’m going to cut and paste that here: (P.S. I was in the park ½ hour before the storm troopers moved in but I saw them and just somehow knew it wasn’t like the day before.) I’m glad I got out. I’m not sure if my pictures are any good either. Peace - not facsim!

Those are mounted police at 9:00 pm.

When we went downtown after working the Recreate 68 table for a few hours, we found that the mall was packed with people. I’ve never seen such a bustle in Denver before. We got to sit at outside at a restaurant for an hour to people watch. Madness. The one thing that’s become very interesting about this experience is that everyone here has something in common to talk about. People are talking to anyone around them about what’s going on. I met a girl on my way to find my friends who just wanted someone to walk around with. She was looking for a party to go to. She wanted Obama Buttons for her nephew. So, I find my friends, good bye to my new friend.

On our way back to the park, the cops created a barracade so nobody could cross the street (I think it was Arapahoe). Please know that there always the cops, I’m not just obssesed with them, they are literally everywhere and in packs all the time.) (Rumors: Motorcade or Anarchists were on the way) We were held on the mall with hundreds of other people just standing there with 80 or so robo-cops in riot gear pumping up their rubber bullet guns. We noticed they had big tear gas cans - at least a foot long hanging off their belts and the endless blue plastic hand-cuffs. This wasn’t a rally, this was on the 16th street mall with revelers and democrats wandering around town looking for something to do. Waves of cops walked by. We heard them barking orders and they would all simutaneously do something, like put gas masks on for example. All of a sudden the DNC isn’t fun anymore. Everywhere you go, official convention or not, we’re all treated like criminals and terrorists. This town is practically under marshall law. For all intensive purposes, it is. Lockdown. I’m starting to hate it. I’m starting to wonder what the hell they are so afraid of from the people. This is ridiculous, over-reaction from hell. I hope Mayor Hickelooper is somehow getting this blog. Maybe I’ll send it to him. The phone number for the Mayor and the Governor are below, if you have a reaction to this facist police state, let them know.

Here’s what happend last night while lovely Michelle and her beautiful daughters were telling their story at the fancy airconditioned podium. I thought Teddy K looked great; didn’t you? I was glad he could be here.

For photos and more information, see:

http://www.coloradolegaleagles.org

[Denver, CO] - Glenn Spagnuolo, one of the main organizers of Recreate68,
was interviewed on Peter Boyles on KHOW radio Tuesday morning about the
pepper bullet incident on Monday. You can listen to the full interviews
here:
http://www.khow.com/pages/boyles.html

Glenn said that the incident last night started around 5:30pm, when
heavily-armed police in SWAT gear began making random sweeps through Civic
Center Park, harassing people sitting in the grass by poking them with
nightsticks and telling them to get up and leave. Glenn complained several
times to the protester’s police liaison, and the police would stop the
harassment, just to start it again a few minutes later. He said that
happened about 4 or 5 times. Glenn said some of the kids in the park became
annoyed and formed a circle and started chanting “No Justice, No Peace” and
put bandanas on their faces. He said that the police got worked up and came
in pretty heavy and opened up with pepper spray and pepper bullets into the
crowd without warning. The police chased the crowd through the park
towards 15th and Cleveland, where there was another line of police waiting
to surround the people running from the police and prevent them from
leaving. Glenn says the police surrounded the crowd, which included
frightened and crying children, and began pushing them back and crushing
the crowd together. He said they were detained for well over an hour.

With their heavy-handed tactics and lack of warning to the crowds, the
police clearly were trying to provoke violence from the crowd. There had
been over 2 days of peaceful protests up until this incident. Instead of
trying to arrest the trouble-makers without endangering others, the police
chose to react by firing pepper bullet guns, pepper spray and tear gas into
groups of innocent bystanders without warning and rounding up crowds of
innocent people and detaining them for over an hour.

In other incidents of police harassment, Cindy Sheehan, an antiwar activist
running for office against Nancy Pelosi, returned to her hotel room in
Denver yesterday to find a man trying to plant a bug in her telephone.
http://obambi.wordpress.com/2008/08/25/cindy-sheehan-catches-a-man-trying-to-wiretap-her-hotel-room-telephone/

According to Glenn Spagnuolo, the police had been stopping and searching
the cars of Recreate68 and Unconventional Action activists near their
convergence center north of downtown.

Another report on colorado.indymedia.org states that 5 members of the
Solidarity Radical Library and Revolutionary Center from Lawrence, Kansas
were arrested Monday in Denver without any reason.

Other activists reported heavy intimidation and harassment by roving gangs
of heavily-armed law enforcement officers in the Civic Center Park Festival
of Democracy and elsewhere in Denver.

Please call the officials below and tell them to stop the harassment of
antiwar activists by police. Forward this announcement to your friends. We
need to let the city of Denver know that the “The Whole World is Watching!”

Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper
Phone: 720-865-9000 (Denver 311)
Ask for the Mayor’s Office

Colorado Governor Bill Ritter
Phone: (303) 866-2471
They say it’s the Mayor’s responsibility, not theirs, but they still need
to feel the heat.

DNC Report from the street 4, by Daphne Webb

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 19:13:00 +0000

DNC Report from the street 4
by Daphne Webb

I got downtown today at about 12:30 or 1:00 pm. Yes; I took the 15, no crack today. I went over to Civic Center Park looking for the blue tent. Uh-oh, there are 150 tents downtown now, and represent a wide variety of businesses, Obama Supporters, t-shirt/button sellers, non-profits and all kinds of Obama stuff. There were pro-war right wing people hanging out on the corner. Hundreds and hundreds of people were walking around. Except for a tornado in Parker (30 miles south of Denver) the weather has been stunningly beautiful as it always is in Denver this time of year.

I missed the End the Occupation March, but heard it was great. A friend is sending pictures. After a quick loop through the many booths I found Recreate 68 booth. It was in the same spot as yesterday. I spent a couple of hours talking to people before it got really juicy. There had been a “take back the streets” march today. Young and brave people wearing all black and barreling through town. What a sight to see. There were about 500 – 1000 of them and they were going where they wanted to go and their goal was so shut down the street to express their need for freedom. When they got to Broadway – a block away from Lincoln, a spectacle appeared. The police moved in. They were on Horseback, Bicycles and on foot in full riot gear with the blue handcuffs strapped to their belts. I would say there were about 50 police officers. It was formidable and they got there and gathered in less than 5 minutes. The protesters took the street. They stayed there for over the 5 minutes promised to them. Guess what? Nothing happened. Everyone did what they were supposed to do and although the imagery of the police state was terrifying, it stayed very calm, noisy, but calm. We were worried about Tear gas. They stayed strong both protesters and cops. Nobody did anything stupid, at all. It was amazing. Then the protesters walked across the street and through Lincoln Park over to Lincoln Street. The same scene repeated itself. I got a couple of good shots mostly showing how 9 – 12 police are holding on to the side of a Blazer in full riot gear.

There are certain things that must happen here. The protesters must have the space to tell their story and the cops have to be there because that’s their assignment. The police presence was overwhelming, but the composure was appreciated. What can they do? Their reputation is as much on the line as ours is. The Mayor has made a point of making sure that this can happen and that nobody gets hurt. It’s part of the process and none of this should be a surprise. The two party system is not working and if we’re going to preserve what’s left of America, it’s critical that these movements continue.

On my way home I stopped at Rite Aid to pick up some milk and the cashier was part of the independent Latino media. He showed me pictures from the media party at Elitches on Saturday Night. They had a great time. Everything was free and you couldn’t “lose” a game, they won Stuffed Donkey’s with Denver 2008 T-shirts at the games. He told me that he had a blast!

Random thoughts:

I think the Obama art is really cool. It’s colorful and interesting and acknowledges the pulse of modern day America. John McCain insists on the old school name in a box technique.

I spent an hour or so with a friend of a friend at the Red Room on Colfax and he was with Queers against Capitalism! One of their people was arrested today. He was trying to find out where he was taken but didn’t find out. The Lawyers are looking for this person and will hopefully get some help.

Food Not Bombs was out today. They gave out vegetarian Fajitas.

Come up to Denver sent me the Highlights for Monday: Come downtown! It’s a trip.

All day
3pm: Music program starts
Downtown Festival of Democracy
Civic Center Park

http://www.recreate68.org/

All day
Tent State University
Cuernavaca Park
20th Street and I25 along the S. Platte River
http://www.tentstate.org

All day
We Are Change and 9/11 Truth
Gates Crescent Park
1901 Children’s Museum DR, Denver, CO
http://wearechangecolorado.org/dnc/

All day
Progressive Democrats of America Headquarters
Central Presbyterian Church, 1660 Sherman St., Denver, CO
https://www.thedatabank.com/dpg/309/donate.asp?formid=meet&c=6468205

9:00am
Freedom Cage Street Theatre with Recreate68
Street theater at the freedom cage (designated protest area) need
assistants
Start: Skyline Park on the 16th Street Mall
End: Freedom Cage at the Pepsi Center. If you cherish your civil liberties,
than you should be apart of this event!
http://www.recreate68.org/

10:00am
Freedom March from Civic Center to Fed. Courthouse
Begin: Civic Center Park
End: Araj Federal Courthouse, 1929 Stout
Kathleen Cleaver, Fred Hampton, Jr., supporters of Leonard Peltier,
recording from Mumia Abu-Jamal on death row and others will speak
http://www.recreate68.org/

5:00 pm
Shake Your Money Maker Protest
The Denver Mint Building
Encircle Denver Mint
http://www.recreate68.org/
Bring noisemakers, energy, spells, magic, costumes, anything that gives you
power. We’ll need it!

5:00 pm - 7:00pm
Code Pink: Make Out Not War Aerial Image
Cuernavaca Park
A visual representation of peace and justice with thousands of others! Wear
light colored clothing. Fabulous musical performances by Betsy Rose, Rachel
Bagby, Morley and more. Pink Badge of Courage Awards presented to amazing
women for peace.
http://www.codepink4peace.org/

DNC Report from the street 3, by Daphne Webb

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 15:04:00 +0000

As I mentioned before, COF contributor Daphne Webb is reporting live from the protests outside the DNC. This is her third report.
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DNC Report from the Street 3
by Daphne Webb

I wanted to be at Lincoln Park no later than 11 am. I wanted an hour to scope out the scene and see if I could be helpful and I am truly amazed and enamored of this entire situation. For those of you on this list who live (d) in Denver, you will understand when I tell you that I took the "15" downtown and, that as a joke, it has been refereed to as the "crack-line." Today, it was no joke. I got on my bus at about 10:30 am and sat in a seat about mid-way back. There is a woman in the seat in front of me who was clearly on something that completely alters a person. I said a little prayer for her because there are almost always terrible issues behind drug-addiction and I was frankly, worried about her. She was scared and freaked out. The bus was rather full, every seat filled and about 5 minutes later, the guy that was sitting across from her said, "No you didn’t just smoke crack on the bus!" "Bus Driver there is a person on this bus smoking some god-damned crack" All of a sudden I catch a whiff of a smell that’s a like a chemically charged rotten egg smell and it was thick. All of a sudden people started coughing. Really hard. This bus had just been filled with Crack smoke and we’re in Denver where air is a precious commodity to begin with. I got out of my seat and started opening windows especially near people who were getting sick and then I told the driver I wanted off. He pulled the bus over and there were more than 4 people really struggling with their breath. There was one woman in particular that needed assistance. She got her asthma infusor out and was extremely shaky and not doing well. I walked over to her and took her over to a shady spot, sat her down, rubbed her back and talked her down. It took about 10 minutes to get her to the point where she was breathing normally and I asked he what her name was "Diana", "Diana?" I said, "Diana (Dee-Aah-Na)" I asked her if she was alone. She said no, that she had her son with her. "What’s his name, how old is he?" "Anthony, he’s 13." So I called out: "Anthony" and he was behind me on his cell phone calling his father. The father was on the way. I sat with her for a couple of minutes more and she said she was fine and other people were looking out for her too. She was o.k.

The bus driver was pretty shook-up by the whole thing. It was chaos. I walked up to the guy that told the bus what was going on because I wanted to thank him. He was really mad. He told me, "You people never say what needs to be said, you just sit there and you don’t do shit." Wow. He was right, but truly he was the only person who actually saw it. I figured he was probably shook up by this situation also and nobody is in a good mood after a toxic substance gases them. It was shocking. It was sad. I have no idea what happened to the woman who was smoking the crack on the bus. I hope she’s in a treatment center and not in a horrible gray cold jail. This woman needs help, not incarceration. I walked down the street for about 5 minutes and waited for the next bus. I told the driver, "I was on the crack bus." And he waived me in. 10 blocks to go. I ended up in the seat behind the guy who was mad at me for reasons I don’t understand and got off at Colfax and Broadway. I found the Recreate 68 group arguing with the guy who manages the veteran memorial because someone had "tagged it" and it was all R-68’s fault. I don’t know, I was high on crack!

I got my act together and practically showered with precious drinking water and started setting up. About 12 pm the area started to fill in with media, people visiting and supporters, friends and yes. Cops. Lots and lots of cops.

I didn’t get my self-defense training because I wanted to be at the Welcome Table to welcome people into town. I met people from New York, Pennsylvania, Washington DC, St. Louis, Seattle, Rochester NY, Boulder and one man from Spain. NBC, Ch. 2, Rocky Mountain News, and many other channels visited us. The organizer was talking to people for 2 hours straight. Sometimes they had Cameras, sometimes not. People really wanted to be welcomed into town. I asked everyone, "Are you in from out of town?" 9 X’s out of 10 they were.

Today felt like, "Meet and Greet Day." Today was about getting to know the community in Denver. It’s important to welcome people, they like that. Today was "Human Condition Day"; I have witnessed so much human behavior these last few days. The human condition… how would you describe it?

DNC Report from the street 2, by Daphne Webb

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 15:00:00 +0000

As I mentioned before, COF contributor Daphne Webb is reporting live from the protests outside the DNC. This is her second report.
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DNC Report from the Street 2
by Daphne Webb

I’m starting to discover that I’m a bit of a schizophrenic. I have the side who is a business owner and wears rayon and make up and healed shoes, then there’s the Barefoot Floridian in me that must sit outside with people that I like a lot. Because of this blog, I have to participate in both sides of the event and I think that makes me lucky! I want to balance the Fancy Shmancy Super Shiny DNC with what’ the folks On The Street are doing with little to no money, or support. We’ll see who gets bigger crowds.

Thursday Night: I went to the final meeting of Recreate 68 last night. It was a difficult meeting due to the fact that the organizers are all mad at each other. As we all sat in the park folding thousands of schedules, I noticed that several people were arguing. This is a common occurrence among organizers. It amazes me how upset people get, but I think it’s about being tired and under scrutiny all the time. Differences in philosophy, technique and style. As usual, they asked everyone to identify them selves. They did, the Washington Post was there, several independent filmmakers, and a few small newspapers as well as several national protest groups were represented. There is an argument going on between two groups. I didn’t catch what it was about, but someone asked the guy to turn off his camera and he wouldn’t. There was a heckler with a mega-phone giving the organizers a constant barrage of insults. We all ignored him. He was particularly mean to one female organizer, but I think it’s more like the little boy who pulls the girls hair in class. Business, business, business, meeting adjourned. There were cops everywhere but they had no interest in our meeting. Whew. To protect and to serve.

At the "Welcome Table Training" Meeting which immediately followed the first meeting in the same patch of grass and also included schedule folding, everyone learned about selling T-shirts, giving out schedules, taking donations, wearing buttons etc. Towards the end we were told that if we all get tear-gassed and have to leave that someone must count the donation money so we know how much is there if something goes down. I wondered how on earth we would do that so instead I asked if we could use it for bail. They laughed. I’ve told the organizers that I wanted to help them "green" the protest site. I really do, but since the city is involved with that, and doesn’t ever send me any information I guess it’s going to be a on site thing. This makes me in charge of crap and garbage – or "environmental issues" is the nice way of saying that. I guess its o.k. that there’s nothing to do. The park meetings ended and it was almost dark out. Everyone is really jazzed about this opportunity. I hope the organizers take care of themselves this week. I hope they get lots of good food, plenty of rest and a moment or two to be proud of what they have done. Which is enormous and extremely important.

The counter convention gets exciting tomorrow. I can’t wait to get my self-defense training.

Friday Afternoon: I was invited to go on a tour of the Pepsi Center today. It started off as the Joe Public Tour where you go from place to place to see the floor for 5 minutes and then leave. We were corralled from one place to the escalator, to a place in the hall, While we were in line with the big public tour we started talking to our tour guide who was 22 and a student at the University of Illinois in 1968. My head whipped around. He talked about how at that time; everyone was completely invested in ending the war because of the draft. You could have been called up at anytime. He knew his draft number (as all men that age do) and talked about the difference of the anti-war movement from then and the general apathy now. If you’re not invested and it doesn’t affect your life, you don’t have to pay attention. However, if there’s a draft, you do because your number could be called at any time. And, here we are with Recreate 68. Is our climate more like 1968 or 1938? That’s a question for another day. I want to know what it was really like back then. There weren’t guys with laptops at the park. After that conversation, we were led, finally, to the room.

The big blue and white sparkly room. It was sensory overload but truly amazing to look at. It literally twinkles. The guide told us about how the podium goes up and down depending on the speaker’s height and it’s air-conditioned. The guide told us that Ohio’s sign is really big, and thought it might be a tribute to Stephanie Tubbs Jones. A sad and difficult loss. She died Tuesday of a brain aneurysm. She will be missed. RIP Stephanie, you were appreciated.

As we were being told to leave by the tour guide a friend of a friend that I was with waved us down. This is when we got the "amazing tour." We walked around the Pepsi Center for maybe 2 hours as actual eyewitnesses of how this mega media circus is being powered. The Media builds out boxes for cameras and more space.
The cables alone were a maze that if stretched out probably would go at least 500 miles. Big Fat Cables that wrap the entire "can" inside and out. There are scaffoldings holding up these enormous cables, hundreds of them, everywhere. It looked like The Matrix, oh wait, it was! Amazing anyway. We went downstairs and outside and saw all of the media tents. They are enormous. There was one that was built around trees in the parking lot and they had to have an arborist come in when they started looking haggard and because the tent is air-conditioned, the trees thought it was fall. So, big effort to save the trees.

We saw all of the media tents, everyone from Associated Press to Air America. Being the political junkie that I am I was absolutely enthralled by this organization. As an event planner, I could have had a nervous breakdown easily, even for just one speck of this event. All eyes on Denver, people, clap clap. Welcome to the New West.

Interesting bits of useless information:
They have LIBERTY porta-potties at The Pepsi Center and that I saw Fox News banner next to a Waste Management Can and NPR next to the bathroom. Priceless

On the CNN wall, they put all these words, the second of which was RESPECT and they spelled it wrong and had to re-do it. They can’t even spell respect.

As we were leaving the property, we found guys wiping off the sidewalk a chalk message that said, "Social Justice Begins in the Womb." The anti-abortion and counter pro-choice rallies are tomorrow.

Coca-Cola is doing the recycling in the Pepsi Center.

Al Jazeera was the first media outlet to secure them selves a spot and pay for it.

CNN has the biggest build out.

Brian Williams is the only one who got a balcony.

Weird thought I had: If Hillary had gotten the nomination and moved her speech to Invesco, we could have had some very funny diaphragm jokes.

For more information on what’s happening, please check out these web sites: www.recreate68.com, www.comeuptodenver.com, www.denverconvention2008.com

DNC Report from the street 1, by Daphne Webb

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 14:58:00 +0000

COF contributor Daphne Webb has been posting updates live from the streets of the DNC. It's a fascinating look into protest and power in the land of freedom. I'll be cross-posting here.

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DNC Report from the street 1
by Daphne Webb

I haven’t actually hit the street yet, but here’s the first edition of the DNC Report from the Street and what’s going on in the town.

The city has their banners up downtown, the delegates are beginning to arrive. Nobody I know got a ticket to see Obama at Invesco on the 45th Anniversary of the “I have a dream” speech. There is a flutter of excitement from every angle. I’ve been watching the city meetings where they are promoting their events all over the city. The stuff that “the public” is allowed to go. The gavel to gavel coverage both on TeeVee and on the Internet. They are also broadcasting in Spanish. That’s a first.

For the first time in exactly 100 years Denver will host a national convention. Very exciting. Congratulations Mayor Hickenlooper and City Council. Good for you. I’m sure you will be very proud. There is a nagging problem however, every single time they talk about the convention, they talk about the security and what to do with those peksy protestors. They are spending 50 million dollars on securtiy. This is a national security event and the entire world is furious at us, so yes, they need security on the off chance that someone somewhere is planning some hideous act of “terrorism.” God forbid. Yesterday they had the swat teams arrive to check out a box that was left out side a buidling by a courier. It was nothing.

I truly hope that we are not shocked and awed during this event. I heard City Council Member Charlie Brown (yes, that’s really his name) talking about the security for the convention, and he didn’t talk about terrorism, he was talking about the protestors. He flat out said, (with a weird smirk) that the police and the city were ready “on their side” for the protestors. What the hell do they think we’re going to do? I guess they think there are plans to destroy downtown. Not the case, but they are ready to haul us all in.

Please be aware, that there is another convention going on here in our great city of Denver, CO. It’s the counter-convention. This is going to be a massive rally which will include many groups that want to end the war, bring integrity back to government and fight the good fight to bring America back to the glorious place it came from. The city has made a lazy attempt at accommodating the people who want to express their views, views which differ from what we hear on mainstream media. Views that include compassion for overcrowded prisons and human rights, not only for American’s but for Palestinians, Iraqis, Tibetans. People who think war is wasteful and wrong. People who believe that rational policies towards Immigration and the Environment should be funded before killing machines like Blackwater and Halliburton. People who believe that people should be safe in their homes and communities. People who believe that elections should be simple and fair. This is the America that I love. Where the freedom of speech is a priority and a right, not a criminal nuisance.

The news of the Denver Police’s preparations has everyone in a twitter. Mass arrests is all anyone says about the DNC. “Gitmo on the Platte” is what they’re calling the holding facility. This is an enourmous ware house that has cages inside made out of chain link fencing. Yesterday, exercises were run, using volunteers who consented to having themselves fake-arrested with plastic wrist bands. Desensitization maybe? The facility is absolutely huge. Is this legal? Political Dissidents and Protestors is who this Hotel Hell is for. The news showed pictures of the cages, many divisions and the top has barbed wire and get this, RAZOR WIRE. The news says that the Mayor’s office told the police to remove the razor wire, but they didn’t show any proof that it actually happened. Gitmo on the Platte is a radical version of the “Freedom Cages.” The Freedom Cages are also made of fencing and will be in Parking Lot A at the Pepsi Center. They are intended to keep the protestors out of the “hearts and minds” of the delegates. Out of eye sight and out of hearing range. We’ll probably have a great view of the snipers on the roof.

I have visions of the “wrapping arrest” technique. That’s where they take construction gating and wrap it around hundreds of people at once to detain the entire group. My heart doesn’t accept this as reality. I keep thinking, “It’s just a scare tactic.” I hear Big Brother in my head saying, “Submit, comply, do as we say.”

The city has shiny programming going on to explain that it’s “business as usual” downtown during the convention. The protestors are saying, “No more politics as usual” - nothing is as usual. Not in the streets, not in the hallowed halls of justice. People tell me that they aren’t “into politics.” I think this is way beyond politics. This is personal. People are losing their homes, their jobs, their pensions, their health insurance. They’re being taxed and over charged for everything a hundred times a day. The economy is collapsing, the dollar is on a free-fall. We’re still losing soldiers and good will through the hideous War on Terror. I’m supposed to accept any of this as “usual?” NO WAY JOSE!

The convention hasn’t even started yet, and I’m already nervous. I want to be free to roam and talk to friends about the situation, but I’m terrified of getting arrested. I’ve never been in any sort of trouble before and I’m not interested in starting now, but why should I be in “trouble” for wearing a t-shirt? Making a sign? Carrying a sign? Maybe this effort will make change, maybe.

We’ll do it for the handsome gentleman in this picture.

Perpetual Revolt

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 17:36:00 +0000

A Cost of Freedom contributor and collaborator Jeff Nall has just released a book, Perpetual Revolt, which I very happily and heartily recommend:

In addition to some sharp essays on the state of politics (and some invigorating calls to action), Nall has included interviews with Christian activists, atheist activist, musician activists -- all very COF-esque, and inspiring to read. Congrats to Jeff!

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 29 May 2008 15:49:00 +0000

Check out an article about Mike Palecek's spring book tour in the Des Moines Register, and some great reviews of his latest book, Iowa Terror. Mike also recently sat down with Denny Smithson on Cover to Cover, KPFA Berkeley; you can hear the entire interview here.

Mike Gravel: the best antiwar candidate

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 29 May 2008 15:46:00 +0000

(A guest post by COF contributor Thomas Sipos, originally posted at his blog, Libertarian Peacenik.)

There are no perfect candidates. I compromise. I determine the big issues. Then I select the candidate who can best promote those issues.

War without end is the big issue of our time. This Orwellian "decades-long war" against a shifting laundry list of nations to "rid the world of evil" itself. After 9/11 nearly all the world sympathized with us. We've since thrown away that goodwill, creating new enemies, stretching our military and weakening our security.

Antiwar is pro-defense.

Civil liberties is another big issue. But that ties into the war. James Madison wrote: "If tyranny and oppression come to this land it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy." And: "No nation could preserve its freedom in the midst of continual warfare."

American voters overwhelmingly oppose our current and (now being planned) future wars. The LP must market itself as the antiwar party. This would be popular with voters and pro-liberty. Pragmatic and principled.

George Phillies, Steve Kubby, and Mary Ruwart are all excellent on peace and civil liberties. I've voted for Phillies and Kubby in the past. I can enthusiastically support any of these three should they be our nominee.

Mike Gravel is equally good on peace and civil liberties. But he surpasses them on media and voter credibility. He is a past US Senator from Alaska. And though he is new to the LP, he is not new to effective peace activism.

To quote Gravel: "In 1971, I waged a one-man, five-month filibuster that forced an end to the Vietnam War draft. I released The Pentagon Papers, the top secret Pentagon study about how three presidential administrations lied to get us into Vietnam. I risked my political career and possible jail, but I decided that if our democracy is to survive, Americans must know what their government is doing. The Supreme Court sided with me."

The media knows and respects this. Other LP candidates can't match such credibility.

Gravel sought the Democratic presidential nomination earlier this year. Likely voters (the sort who watch early presidential debates) saw Gravel share the stage with Clinton and Obama. These likely voters already perceive Gravel as a "real" candidate.

Here's what Gravel said during one televised debate: "This is fantasy land. We're talking about ending the war. My God, we're just starting a war right today. There was a vote in the Senate today. Joe Lieberman, who authored the Iraq Resolution, has authored another resolution, and it is essentially a fig leaf to let George Bush go to war with Iran.... I'm ashamed of you, Hillary, for voting for it ... Obama was not even there to vote."

Ever want to tell off Hillary to her face? Or Obama? Gravel did. Before a national audience. See it on YouTube:

Wayne Allyn Root says that Obama was in his Columbia graduating class, and that, although he never met Obama, this is a good talking point. Yet Root's ancient "Obama connection" pales beside Gravel recently debating Obama face-to-face. Before millions of Americans.

Root endorsed McCain/Lieberman before joining the LP as a pro-war candidate in 2007, then "converted" to non-interventionism. Yet at the California LP convention in February 2008, he said he'd emphasize economic issues. So even if his conversion is sincere, he still won't (unless he's changed again) make antiwar his flagship issue.

The LP should discuss the economy. But the economy ties into the war. Wars have bankrupted nations. Federal borrowing has ballooned. Fat chance of any tax cuts with those looming debt and interest payments.

We cannot discuss the economy without mentioning the war. We cannot attract voters by nominating Basil Fawlty.

Only Bob Barr approaches Gravel in terms of media and voter credibility. Yet while Barr has grown since joining the LP, he's still not "pure enough" for many libertarians. We need a candidate who's both pragmatic and pure.

I regard Gravel as Purist Lite. Not perfect on every issue, but excellent on those that matter. A pragmatic purist.

If you're a delegate to the upcoming LP convetion, and you have your own "dealbreaker" issues, please visit Gravel's campaign at the convention. He may already support your key issues. He's pro-choice on abortion, pro-gay marriage, anti-drug war. He wants to abolish the IRS, and the personal and corporate income tax (and replace them with a Fair Tax, i.e., national sales tax).

Pretty damn pure. But not so "extreme" as to "scare away" voters.

Undecided? Please give your token to Gravel, so he may participate in the Saturday debate. Hear what he has to say.

When it comes to ending our wars (thus strengthening our security and economy) and protecting civil liberties, I believe Gravel is as principled and more effective than any of our other candidates.

"Books, not bombs": Norman MacAfee on Huffington Post

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 15 May 2008 15:25:00 +0000

I'm sorry I'm so late with this post. COF contributor and poet Norman MacAfee recently published an article on Huffington Post. You can access it here. A snippet:

"Together we can make ourselves a nation that spends more on books than on bombs, more on hospitals than the terrible tools of war, more on decent houses than military aircraft."

Forty years ago, Robert Kennedy was campaigning in Indiana, as Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are doing this week.

RFK's base was the poor and working class, Native Americans, Puerto Ricans, Mexican Americans, blacks, and working-class whites. Campaigning in Indiana, he was "wildly cheered by angry blacks, then cheered with equal enthusiasm by blue-collar whites who professed to hate blacks," wrote Evan Thomas wrote in Robert Kennedy: His Life.

As we watch Clinton and Obama campaign in Indiana, I would like us to think of that coalition that Robert Kennedy forged between the poor and the working class, including all the races. Is such a thing possible today?

His latest book, The Gospel Accoring to RFK, is available through bookstores and Amazon.

Mike on the radio

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 22:18:00 +0000

Cost of Freedom editor Mike Palecek will be on some radio shows in the coming week; check it out:

April 28

5-5:30: on with Denny Smithson, Cover to Cover, KPFA Berkeley, www.kpfa.org.

April 29

4-6pm: on with Jim Fetzer, gcnlive.com.

7-9pm CDT: on Freedom Fighter Radio, freedomfighterradio.net.

May 5

10-12pm CDT: on with Carol Brouillet, http://questioningwar-organizingresistance.blogspot.com/

Cost of Freedom magazine ..?

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 16:47:00 +0000

Mike, Michael and I are talking about developing a "Cost of Freedom" daily -- all the content of Cost of Freedom, brought every day.

We're discussing the format -- magazine, downloadable PDFs, blog -- and, at this point, are ready to welcome comments. What would you like to see?

COF poet on CATALYST radio show, 4/18 at 11am

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 21:06:00 +0000

Activist, poet, and Cost of Freedom contributor Leigh Herrick will be reading some of her poems from Cost of Freedom on the radio show CATALYST this Friday, April 18th, at 11am. The show is on KFAI 90.3, and streaming at www.kfai.org/node/57. Info:

Tune in to hear this KFAI-exclusive interview with the beloved progressive historian HOWARD ZINN with a new book out PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF AMERICAN EMPIRE.

Also hear poems written & read by St. Paul poet-activist LEIGH HERRICK--from the new anthology COST OF FREEDOM and tunes from Michael Franti and Spearhead's cd YELL FIRE!

It's the SPRING 2008 Pledge Drive at KFAI and your support is needed more than ever--since Gov. Pawlenty is aiming to CUT FUNDING FOR PUBLIC BROADCASTING by OVER 50%!

Zinn's book, the COST OF FREEDOM anthology & Franti's CD are all pledge premiums when you pledge on CATALYST at $100 or more. Be sure to say you're pledging on CATALYST so the show can get credit.

CALL FRIDAY 11AM: 612-375-9030
ON-LINE: http://www.kfai.org

Thank you to all who helped with Book Tour '08

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 00:37:00 +0000

________________________

"Thank you for the use of the hall."
— Jimmy Breslin, the last line of his last regular column, Newsday

________________________

SHELDON, IOWA — "Owwwoooo!"

That's Michael Annis' cell phone.

He's the publisher of Howling Dog Press in Denver.

My computer quit a few days ago, but it's kind of working now, so I'll try to send something out, just to wrap this up.

I just want to thank all those who helped me out with this tour that began in Tulsa a month ago and ended in Denver and Fort Collins two days ago.

And thanks to those of you who were gracious enough to let me send these updates.

If you have read every one of them, you qualify for two tickets to see Head East at the Casino Pocatello. Call Dave Namanny at the Mitchell [IA] County Press-News, 641-732-3721 to claim your prize.

I think I quit writing at Seattle, so I'll add a little about the last few dates here.

Seattle, Revolution Books, April 2nd

I spent the day in the Capitol Hill neighborhood, walking up and down Broadway, had coffee at Tully's, watched a high school baseball game in the park. I couldn't stand to watch long though. The coach was terrible. Didn't seem to care about the kids at all. I think he was Cuban, not that there's anything wrong with it.

Better have your Mutt Mitts on if you're going to walk your dog in Seattle.

Lots of Ani DeFranco posters on the lamp poles.

A wo-man served me coffee at Noah's New York bagles. I'm not sure what I think about that transgender stuff. No. Really, I do. It's weird. I was buying coffee anyway just to use the restroom. I set the empty cup down and left.

We had a great talk at Revolution Books, with Terri and C.C., Emma and Charlie. Emma and Charlie are young. C.C., Terri and me, not so. Did you know they had a big protest at Berkeley, "The Battle of Berkeley" they are calling it.

And there were lots more protests in Washington, Oregon, along the coast, to mark the anniversary of the start of this war.

But we don't hear about it.

When the Berrigans poured blood and burned draft files in 1968, was it national news? If so, why isn't this Berkeley thing, where high school students went to the streets to fight the military recruiters next door, on the "Nightly News"?e

Emma says that because high school students are oppressed they are more likely to want to fight, whereas college students are learning to be part of the system and aren't really interested in fighting.

And these just in ...

http://www.codepinkalert.org/article.php?id=4117

http://www.foxnews.com/video2/video08.html?videoId=1fd1c0cf-5c80-4d75 -996f-bd53b2461ae0&sMPlaylistID

Coeur d'Alene & Spirit Lake, Idaho

Where I find out I don't know my elbow from my Bilderberger.

At Spirit Lake Books in Spirit Lake, a man coming to my reading introduced himself as retired Army, "kind of in the mode of Charleton Heston," regarding taking the gun out of his cold, dead hands.

http://www.spiritlakebooks.com/

The store is owned by a young couple who came to Idaho from New York City after 911.

Okay, then, let's get started with my anti-war, immigrant-hugger talk.

This is the heart of militia country. Or not. Northern Idaho has militia connotations. I spoke to about thirty people one night, then about six the next day at the bookstore.

They were nice. One guy gave me $100 for a twenty-dollar book, and a big hug, and told his wife to hug me too.

I stayed with Don Harkins and Ingri Cassel. They operate the Idaho Observer from their cabin-like home with wood stove and computers and homemade sauna out back. http://www.proliberty.com/observer/

I get to sign their guest wall of fame. Pretty cool.

I learn about Gonzaga University next door in Spo-can. The Zags. A Jesuit university. They tamed the Coeur d'Alene Indians I guess, and all live happily ever after, is how it was told to me.

I learn that vaccines are evil as well as my good ol' diet Pepsi aspartame. And I promise to listen to what they have to say.

I'll tell you this.

These folks are free, open thinkers.

They are not to be found walking down the middle of the mall gabbing about American Idol. They are actively seeking the men in the shadows who are running our country. I thank them for that.

They are fighters.

Although ... the Army guy at the bookstore? After my talk he tells me I need to read more, learn more, understand better, regarding the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral something and the Bilderbergerers.

Likely true.

But ... well, I have this thing ... at my talks, I talk, and then I listen. I don't argue, because I am profoundly grateful for anyone taking the time to come to a stinking book reading for one thing, and for another, I have already had my chance.

But, for some guy who says he is so anti-government, what's this about spending your whole life as part of the government?

And, dude, I went to prison to fight this government. You carry around a copy of the constitution in your chest pocket and talk.

I would submit there's a difference.

Oh, well, thank you for coming.

Yes, these potato producers are to be found reading, discussing, caring, and preaching about the evils of fluoride — as I slowly, oh-so cleverly hide my toothpaste behind my back.

You can take my Pepsodent ... when you pry it from my cold, dead ...

South to Salt Lake City

Lots of mountains, snow-tipped scenic views.

From northern Idaho you go into Montana to get south to Salt Lake City, Utah.

You just do.

You go through Missoula and Butte in order to reach Pocatello and Ogden.

Get me the eff out of here.

I am so sick of mountain driving, especially at night, straight up, then straight down, with battallions of mule deer waiting in ambush.

Anyway, got to SLC in plenty of time to pull in backwards, as required, into my parking spot, then locate Cup of Joe coffee shop, on West South Street.

Not to be confused with West West Street or South Eastern Blvd.

Then I walk around a mall and walk back, past the homeless on the street, past the uber-folk of SLC at the outdoor mall, all mixed together like some eclectic bowl of Jello at a Mormon wedding.

At C of J I meet with Eileen and Deanna and Raphael and Tim. I do my reading while shouting at them from three feet away as some guys shout at each other over their chess game three feet behind me.

We talk about "Big Love" and Rocky Anderson and their having been arrested at the bomb test site near Las Vegas.

I realize that, well, here are some more folks fighting the good fight. They really are everywhere.

People howling at the moon, acting crazy to keep from going insane in this open-air asylum called The United States of America.

Owwwoooo!

After our discussion I hang around to read at the Friday night Cup of Joe's poetry slam, a first for me.

Lots of young people caring enough to write a poem and get up in front of people to perform, while dishes clatter and doors slam and cars zoom past outside, and people talk, and still they do it — kind of like the folks fighting for peace all around — putting your whole self into something, not knowing if anyone will care or notice, and most often they do not — but still doing it.

And then into the Salt Lake City night.

Denver & Fort Collins, Colorado

And up the mountain and mule deer toward Wyoming — Evanston, that is.

Then you sleep fast then drive in a hurry to get to Cheyenne, turn right, down to Denver. And by this time you have mastered peeing in a cup going eighty.

I drive down 22nd Street just as people are going into Coors Field for the Rockies game. I've never seen Coors Field.

Cool.

Then I find California and 21st Street, The Mercury Cafe.

Eileen from Salt Lake said this is a famous place.

I go inside and am warmly greeted by Michael Annis, Daphne Webb, Ken Greenley and Nick Vangel. They are smiling, shaking my hand, all that.

Very cool.

Daphne is the MC, Ken reads his great poetry, and Nick plays his harmonica while Michael reads an epic poem, "WAR," a section from his longer interstitial composition, "Brave New World Order."

I stay with Michael and Allison and Brennan that night. Michael Annis published my book, Looking For Bigfoot.

He is also the publisher of Cost of Freedom.

We have never met before this.

I get to see his workshop where he produces these beautiful books. I get to hear stories about Bukowski and Ginsberg and Kerouac.

Michael is 59, so he did not get in on the Beat era, but he knows all about it, and he published most of them, including Burroughs and Corso.

He is a street-fighter poet, an artist, a guy who gives a shit.

Something as rare as diet Pepsi at a militia soup supper.

I just can't get over this.

Someone with a family who produces books, who gets excited about the work of others, the lives of others, in this world of TV and malls and sports teams, where almost nobody reads or learns or knows anything or gives a shit about anything.

And here is someone who has devoted his life to art, to caring, and it's clear that he won't stop.

Fucking amazing.

The next day in Fort Collins we get skunked, nobody shows up, so Daphne and Michael and I exchange hugs and handshakes and hallelujahs and I hit the road, headed for Salt Lake City.

I get turned around and go towards ...

Pine Ridge, South Dakota

I pass the sign saying I have entered Nebraska: Bridges May Be Icy, People May Be Stupid.

I should know.

Kimball. Scottsbluff. Chadron. Rushville.

I find Robin Long Soldier's apartment on Main Street. I visit with Robin and her children. These people are anything but stupid.

They get it.

We are talking about Bigfoot. Robin tells me about her experience one night while working at a treatment center in Kyle. I tell them about my experience over near Spearfish in the '80s.

Robin takes me over to see her friend, Tammy, who has photos that Bigfoot left in her backyard, but Tammy is not home, or the dogs are barking too loud for her to hear us.

I thank Robin and head off toward Pine Ridge. I then go to Porcupine and park. I walk around in the pines. There have been several sightings on the Pine Ridge Reservation in the past couple of years. http://www.cryptomundo.com/breaking-news/chiefconfprbf/

I don't see anything except three horse skulls in one pasture.

But I do see that the reservation is a vast wilderness that could, possibly ... well, you just never know.

About six hours later I pull into our driveway.

The snow is gone, the grass is starting to turn green.

I can't believe I'm here.

seeya

— Mike
______________________________

__

* This year's tour was an extension of last year's tour.

All in all, the two tours, "The American Dream Tour," and the "Cost of Freedom" tour, made these stops.

[Again, thank you goes out from the tour staff to all those who made this year-long tour possible. The only place we haven't gone yet is The South. Look for plans for that tour next spring.]

2007:
Drinking Liberally, Kansas City, Missouri; Faith & Life Books, Newton, Kansas; Lawrence [KS] Public Library; Crossroads Infoshop, Kansas City, Missouri; A Novel Idea Books, Lincoln, Nebraska.; Soul Desires Books, Omaha; The Reading Grounds Books, Omaha; Wayne State College, Wayne, Nebraska.; Zandbroz Books, Sioux Falls, South Dakota; Hill Avenue Books, Spirit Lake, Iowa; Southeast Minnesota Peacemakers, Rochester, Minnesota; Ritual Cafe, Des Moines, Iowa; Magers & Quinn Books, Minneapolis; Magus Books, Minneapolis; College of St. Scholastica, Duluth, Minnesota; Duluth Catholic Worker House; Mondragon Books, Winnipeg, Canada, canceled, denied entrance to Canada because of prison record; Rainbow Books, Madison, Wisconsin; Cream City Collective, Milwaukee, Wisconsin; New World Resource Center, Chicago; Barbara's Books, Chicago; Revolution Books, Chicago; Unitarian Church, Park Forest, Illinois; Volume One Books, Hillsdale, Michigan; Drinking Liberally, Indianapolis, Indiana; 303 Collective, Saginaw, Michigan; The Planet Bookstore, Ann Arbor, Michigan; Drinking Liberally, Detroit, Michigan; Drinking Liberally, Cleveland, Ohio; Boxcar Books, Bloomington, Indiana; Drinking Liberally, Pittsburgh, Pennsylania; Talking Leaves Books, Buffalo, New York; Literary Cafe, Buffalo, New York; Drinking Liberally, Rochester, New York; Bluestockings Books, New York City; ETG Cafe & Books, Staten Island, New York; The Book Cellar, Brattleboro, Vermont; Lucy Parson's Center, Boston.

2008:
Tulsa, Oklahoma peace group; Dallas-Ft. Worth 911 Truth; Brave New Books, Austin, Texas; Unitarian Church/Peace Farm, Amarillo; Peace House, Taos, New Mexico; Women in Black, Bisbee, Arizona; 911 Truth/Peace group, Tucson, Arizona; Las Vegas Drinking Liberally; Track 16 Art Center, Los Angeles; Bay Area Anarchist Book Fair, San Francisco; Peace & Justice Center, Santa Cruz, California; Public Library/Cheshire Books, Fort Bragg, California; Chico State University, Chico, California; 100 Fires Books, Eureka, California; The Book Barn, Bend, Oregon; Veterans For Peace, Corvallis, Oregon; Laughing Horse Books, Portland, Oregon; Revolution Books, Seattle, Washington; Idaho Observer event, Coeur d'Alene, Idaho; Spirit Lake Books, Spirit Lake, Idaho; Cup of Joe, Salt Lake City, Utah; The Mercury Cafe, Denver; Abo's Cafe & Restaurant, Fort Collins, Colorado.

For extra credit, and to receive tickets to "Bread," appearing at Casino Fort Huachuca, read the following and then call Dave Namanny.

Cost of Freedom talk outline

Hello.

Introduce two books, Cost of Freedom, Iowa Terror.

Talk about "terror in a small town," how we are watching everyone but those we should be watching.
Talk about Homeland Security is a joke. Christian nation keeping poor people from having a chance.

READ: Pinche Puta Store Detective, IT
READ: And I Laugh, from "The Truth," COF
READ: From "Looking For Bigfoot," COF

Two large tasks we face:

Knowing what is really going on.
Deciding what to do about it, if anything.

They say 911 changed the world, but really it changed in 1963 when JFK was murdered. And it continues to this day, same players. We even have a photo of George W. Bush Sr. outside the Texas School Book Depository that day, even though he says he was not there.

That is when our country was stolen from us, then ... RFK, MLK.

Then 911 - and now we may be about to attack Iran.

An intelligent populace would be able to look at news reports and decipher them, read between the lines, much as the Soviet people would have looked at any pronouncement coming from Tass or Pravda.

All we really have to trust is our gut, our heart.

We else are we going to trust?

The Dallas Police Department? The Los Angeles Police Department? The Memphis Police Department?

The Warren Commission?

The 911 Commission?

The CIA?

The FBI?

The Democratic Party?

Can we trust the President?

The Congress?

Our churches?

Our press?

Can our children even trust us?

READ: How to explain the war to your children, by Antler, Wisconsin, Cost of Freedom. [pg 38]

Are there any clues to help us understand what is happening in our country?

1) Me - arrested in 1980s at Offutt AFB, ban and bar: Peace is Our Profession

Arrested 1999 after Clinton bombing Yugoslavia, ban and bar letter: Global Power For America.

2) 1989, me out of jail last time, Council Bluffs, six months.
Tienenman Square, Berlin Wall, Clinton elected - time of hope - peace dividend?

No - did not happen. Not seen as opportunity, but problem to be solved. Money must still be made on weapons.

Gives us another clue about the kind of country we live in.

Plans made for empire.

Project For a New American Century.
Elections Stolen.
New Pearl Harbor.

Iraq and Afghanistan invasions.

All according to plan.

Profits.

Me - election 2000, Dem. candidate.

Thought of throwing brick to protest stolen elections. Asked friends to join. No.

Held brick and paper out in hands, judging the weight of each.

Decided not to throw.

My books are my bricks — through my neighbor's window for mowing his lawn the day we bombed Iraq, through the neighborhood church's window for saying nothing about thou shall not kill, through the recruiter's window for teaching our beautiful children to kill, to slit throats, to shoot through the heart, to torture.

How would we act - the American populace - if we knew the truth? Good question.

Some say we are just stupid, apathetic, too comfortable.

But, at least part of it is that we are brainwashed, manipulated by those who devote their lives to that manipulation, while we remain focused on one job, two jobs, tomorrow's To-Do list, paying for health insurance, unable to focus on anything out of cell phone range.

READ: David Ray, COF [pg 17]

Many, many people, everywhere are fighting Bush, fighting for our freedom. It is they who we owe our freedoms to, not the soldiers, that is a lie.

Ex: Doug Wight, recently arrested in Northampton, Mass., for burning American flags.
Ex: Dorothy Day Catholic Worker/Jonah House Holy Week retreat at St. Stephen and the Incarnation Church, NW D.C.

Read my tax protest letter.

... But, still ... no matter what we seem to do, it goes on and on and on.

People die. Every day. We kill people. Every day.

American values.

Some say there will be no election, that propaganda and false terror will win out, that the pieces are all in place for that to happen.

Or maybe the next election is also rigged.

Or the people "they" want are already in place. Dennis Kucinich and the like impolitely elbowed out of the way.

We don't know ... but we can feel.

What sort of country we live in, that we are leaving to our kids.

The good news, the great news ... is that, despite all evidence to the contrary — it is still up to us to determine.

[Personal aside]

Encourage peace movement to adopt 911 Truth - that is the why - that is the root - that gets us to the truth about our country - fights the lies in our high school history books - leads down the road to finding out.

Otherwise, they will just keep doing the same thing ... again and again and again - as has been happening up to now.

*Also - voting for Obama is not nearly enough. He is not talking about prosecuting Bush for war crimes, for finding out about stolen elections, about truth about 911 - without that, it's just not good enough.

READ: Other People's Kids, by Mary Walworth, New Jersey [pg. 19]

Thank you

"Be open to your dreams, people. Embrace that distant shore. Because our mortal journey is over all too soon."

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 15:24:00 +0000

"Spring has sprung. We're free at last, people. Free at last. Thank you mother nature, we're free. Time to toss open that metaphysical window and check out that psychic landscape.

"See lots of possibilities budding out there. Time to hoe those rows, feed that seed. Pretty soon you get a garden."

— Chris In The Morning, KBHR Radio, Minnifield Communications Network

CICELY, ALASKA — I cannot believe I'm here.

Actually, it's so real, that I can believe I'm here.

Even if I am really in Roslyn, Washington.

Today I am sitting at the top of the hill, at the east end of Pennsylvania Avenue, in Roslyn, aka Cicely, where the television show of the 1990s, Northern Exposure, was filmed for six seasons.

This is the view I expected, the one so familiar from the show opening, when the theme music played, with the wailing harmonica, looking down into town, down into the lives, the very hearts and souls of all those great people, those great characters.

I park and look into the very window of KBHR and see where Chris sat to give his morning radio show. Stenciled in the door: Minnifield Communications Network.

There is dust on the microphone. The albums are bending from being in the shelves so long, the photos on the wall have turned blue.

Then I walk over to The Brick.

It looks just right, just like it should, from the outside. On the inside, there is the bar, and the wood stove is putting out a scent of maple honey, but the rest is not quite right. I look around and walk out.

And the bar is really is right over from KBHR, just like Chris saw out the front window of his radio perch.

Down the street I walk into a gift shop that used to be Joel Fleishman's office. A man behind the counter with a thick European accent says this is where it was filmed. He says his son had a part in the series. I can't understand the name.

______________________________

"Message of the day. Listen up now, because this one's important. Brush those teeth, eat that roughage, pop those vitamins, and wear sensible shoes.

"Man, we homo sapiens carry around a heavy psychic knapsack: consciousness.

"We all know we're going to be asked to get off the merry-go-round someday. Best we can do is keep the corpse beautiful, right? And what is the right stuff, anyway, crossing a double yellow on your hog or looking a thirty-year mortgage flat in the face?

"The long haul. I'm going to need some clean undies; got my toothbrush, got my library card. What did the man say? A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, right?"

_______________________________________

There, behind the T-shirt rack is where Marilyn's desk was, and back there, behind the beads and the loose boards is the examining room and Dr. Fleishman's office.

It's like there should be a shrine here, but there is absolutely no ceremony. This is where Marilyn-Effing- Whirlwind and Dr. Joel Fleishman made magic, and it's overshadowed by a postcard carousel and tables stocked with KBHR glasses and moose pencils.

The man in the store gives me a map of the town with numbers and circles to mark Maurice's house and Marilyn's house.

I drive around a big white dog in the road who does not move.

There it is, the Roslyn mural.

I've got something I need to ask Chris, so I look behind me.

I wonder if Holling wants to go hiking. Would he be working at this hour?

I can see Ed and Chris and Maurice up on the roof of The Brick when Chris saved Maurice from falling.

There is the scene from the episode Northern Lights, there is the Running of the Bulls, there is where they dug up Maggie's front lawn looking for artifacts.

Ruth and Sam and Emily and I were living in southeast Minnesota in the early '90s. We were running our newspaper, The Byron Review. The show was on Monday nights, which was our layout night, which usually lasted until dawn. Ruth and I would try to take a break at seven to relax and watch the show.

Now I have all the shows on CD. I watch them over and over. I feel comfortable, at home, with my people.

Fantasy is better than reality.

It's cool to see the town, but it's missing something.

You have to have the people.

There are two guys talking on the street, and there's a young guy sitting on a chair outside Leftie's Bar, strumming a guitar. They look open to starting up a conversation with a stranger. I walk past, my tourist chin in the air, looking around.

And the guy at the gift shop, I could stay and talk longer.

But I don't.

How cool would it be to be a part of all of that when it was happening? To be a writer, a cast member, some guy with water bottles.

That's all I want to think about, the fantasy, the town of my dreams.

I have no time for reality, not today.

http://www.moosechick.com/

http://www.moosefest.org/

http://www.moosefest.org/about/committee/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp2O5y40n1s

____________________________________________

"My friends, today when I look out over Cicely, I see not a town, but a nation's history written in miniature, inscribed in the cracked pavement, reverberating from every passing flatbed.

"Today, every runny nose I see says 'America' to me. We were outcasts, scum, the wretched debris of a hostile, aging world.

"But we came here, we paved roads, we built industries, powerful institutions. Of course, along the way we exterminated untold indigenous cultures and enslaved generations of Africans. We basically stained our Star Spangled Banner with a host of sins that can never be washed clean.

"But today, we're here to celebrate the glorious aspects of our past. A tribute to a nation of free people, the country that Whitman exalted:

"The genius of the United States is not best or most in its executives or legislators, nor in its ambassadors or authors or colleges or churches, or parlors, nor even in its newspapers or inventors, but always most in the common people."

_______________________________________

Speaking of democracy in America.

Check out these kids, teaching their elders what it's all about.

seeya

— Mike

Upcoming:

April 2nd: Seattle, Revolution Books, 1833 Nagle Place.

7 p.m.

www.mikepalecek.com
_______________________

from ...

"Iowa Terror"
by Mike Palecek

Chapter Eight
Bridge To Nowhere

Hello!

I mean, ahoy!

It's me!

Out here in the water, in the rowboat.

Me and Carl.

We've got this one oar in the water. We dropped the other one. One should do it.

Homeland Bridge Inspectors, reporting for duty, sir!

At your service.

What we see here, and our report will show this when we find the pen, is that this bridge failed after a truckload of money headed for the military caused it to collapse.

Wait, just a moment, please.

It's my beeper.

"Yes, yes, uh-huh. I don't know. Dropped it. Not me, Carl. Yes. Yes-sir. No-sir. Yes, ma'am. Okay, fine, then. You smell good today, sir-ma'am. Of course, not through the phone, impossible, yes-ma'am. Buh-bye."

Okay, I'm back.

Seems we now have reports of the same types of trucks running into schools in Cleveland and Detroit and Oakland as well. And similar bridges in New York and Charlotte and Denver have also apparently crashed and burned.

Oh, boy, reports are now coming in about sub-standard housing in every major city in the United States, mostly black neighborhoods it seems, that have somehow been run straight through by large trucks full of cash in large denominations, headed for military operations all over the country as well as overseas.

I guess they go to Stratcom in Omaha so we can have missiles in space. Cool. God knows we need that.

And control the world for Warren Buffett.

Ma-an, lucky for us he was there at Offutt that day to meet with George Bush.

Whew.

... And to Fort Benning in Georgia and Vanderberg in California and Leonard Wood in Missouri.

Lots of insurgent types in California and Missouri.

I guess we need all those because we are so free.

And we need lots of bases and soldiers and money in Germany and Phillipines and Columbia and Japan — and Uzbekhistan and Kadzikastan and Dakotastan and Nevadastan.

And we just cannot afford to buy everything.

Our parents knew that.

You have to make choices.

We cannot have strong bridges in Minneapolis, smooth streets in Cleveland, warm schools in Detroit, and still be able to change the tires on our tanks in Turkey.

We need to pay our taxes for that every year because that is what we have always done.

And we are more than smart enough to decide which is which.

I'm sure we are.

Somebody is.

Thinking about it.

Well, what we are going to do here is to keep rowing, see what we can see, report back, monitor the beeper.

That's kind of what we do.

And we get to wear these orange terror vests.

it's all pretty cool.

It's amazing how our president and vice-president have this whole thing under control, the different ins and outs, scenarios, plans, all those beepers.

Hey, you have a good day, you ol' American you.

Just go another beeper call. Just wait ...

... Seems that we're going to be dragging for our other oar. ... Then either me or Carl will need to put on the wet suit and goggles and deploy to the bottom.

Carl's shaking his head.

Don't you worry about a thing.

Go about your day.

I got this.

To Obama, or Not To Obama -- Is That the Question?

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 19:37:00 +0000

(By Paul Corman Roberts, reposted from PaulCormanRoberts.com.)

How to rate what is supposed to be one of the most culturally and politically bleeding edge book fairs in the United States?

On March 22nd, 2008 I attended the fabled San Francisco Anarchists Book Fair for the first time in my 15 years of living in the Bay Area. I’m not exactly an “on the scene” kind of guy in either the activist or small press world of the Bay Area (though that last part is changing some now) and it seems like I should have at least gone to the last few if only to get an idea of what real underground literature is doing.

It was a mixed bag to say the least. For me personally it was fantastic. In the way that a family reunion can be fantastic. I was reacquainting with activists I hadn’t seen in over a decade, and many of the writers I’ve been working with so recently. Old friends and new friends all together in one place is nothing to sneeze at. For the press I was there to represent, it was a tougher day. We had no poster and were squeezed in between Food Not Bombs and Z Magazine.

It became clear pretty quickly, not just to me but also to my Howling Dog Press partners in rabble rousing; Mike Palacek and Dan Benbow, that this event was a lot more about “networking” than it was about sales, or, god forbid, active or unified social change (I guess it wouldn’t be “anarchist” then.)

At least for the smaller, poorly organized presses like those of us in the HD crew. AK Press, Bound Together Books, and Left Bank Book Collective from Seattle all seemed to be doing a nice brisk trade in T-shirts, posters, chaps, DVD’s and stickers. Food Not Bombs, Coyote and the SF Bike Messengers union were all fundraising (Food Not Bombs under Keith McHenry could truly be classified as its own press/media outlet) and getting petitions signed for various good sounding causes, including the forming of a Tent City outside the White House in D.C. (inspired by Camp Casey) and the legalization of Prostitution (Coyote.)

But really and truly we were hoping to talk with other activists and other small press publishers about the war, about the peace effort and what is widely considered a genuine conspiracy when it comes to the events of 9/11 which has propelled the greatest superpower the planet has known to the brink of credibility, and yes, possibly even collapse.

A funny thing happened to the outrage over the war and the possibility that it was encouraged by profiteers in the U.S. government…

…no one really gave a shit. Part of the reason is that most of these folks has been down this road in one form or another…it’s even a big reason why all of us were even at this convention in the first place. It’s not as if disbelief in the corruption of the U.S. war machine were the issue. Why it is, so many hard edged activists refuse to identify with the 9/11 Truth Movement? Mostly it’s an insidious mix of hopelessness, helplessness and fear. Hopelessness in that the movement has nowhere to move to (what if Cheney admitted he knew the Twin Towers were coming down months ahead of time? What is there to allow us to believe anything would actually happen to him?) Helplessness in that the truth movement is overrun with agent provocateurs and manicacs. Fear in that already marginalized citizens are only going to be further marginalized by identifying with “conspiracy extremists.” These three things have manifested as a collective pathology in much of the working activist and progressive communities, not just the middle classes.

Dan Benbow said he resented the term “conspiracy theorist.” He much preferred the label “conspiracy realist.” Dan and Mike and I spent some time debating the semantics of the LIHOP (”Let It Happen On Purpose”) school of thinking versus the MIHOP (”Made It Happen on Purpose”) school when it comes to theories involving just how involved were aspects of America’s war machine in the events of 9/11. The obvious demolition of Building 7; the unexplained car bomb outside the Old Executive Offices in Washington DC; the status and mission of numerous military exercises taking place in Manhattan that particular day…not to mention the plain and obvious profit motive the petroleum industry would benefit from in the wake of a middle eastern war, which is why many in the peace movement have this extra paranoia working into the overarching everyday question “how the fuck did it get this bad?” It leads naturally too, “who let it get this bad?” which quite naturally ends up at “why would someone let it get this bad?”

Just take a look at the profits of Exxon/Mobile, Haliburton and Blackwater over the past few years.

Mike Palacek said he has heard from many quarters that Osama bin Laden is not even alive anymore; that he is kept alive like a construct, like Emmanuel Goldstein in Orwell’s 1984.

We discussed these issues passionately, openly, and without any harassment, and conversely, without any interest from hardly anyone else.

Perhaps that is what drove what seemed to be the real topic of interest: Will Obama truly make a difference? Even here amongst this disparate group of radicals, there dialogued a sizable and hardened minority that feels Obama does have what it takes to take our nation out of its self-imposed dark age. But a minority nonetheless. The real overriding sentiment at the Fair could be summed up in a what a bike messenger’s union organizer from L.A. said to me: “Obama basically sucks at the same teat as McCain and Hillary.”

Certainly the people who question Obama see him pulling the most regular military from the middle east, but letting the mercenary groups and contractors who make up the larger part of the occupying Western forces stay on and play at whatever games is deemed necessary for them to play for the greater good of the economic interest.

We didn’t sell a single copy of the “Cost of Freedom” anthology, which is likely the finest anti-war anthology put together in recent history. I couldn’t help but notice that Keith McHenry was only having limited success in garnering enthusiasm from the browsers for an ultra-confrontational tent city in Washington D.C., but make no mistake: Food Not Bombs will be there to do their damndest to feed activists.

Still, I got to meet two fellow Howling Dog writers, folks who share a passion for representing the truly just, the truly more American concept of fairness and justice and not just business death scams perpetuated on other civilizations in our name. Writers aren’t necessarily the best people to unite the activists of the world…after all, theirs is a solitary trade to begin with. But we’re going to have to figure out a way to do it if we feel the human species is worth saving. If not, what’s the point in even trying? The reason I don’t give up is because I know there are some out there who want us to come to just this conclusion of despair…and those who want that most are people who invest in and control the arms and energy industry.

Covered:

Howling Dog Press: http://www.howlingdogpress.com/

AK Press: http://www.akpress.org/

Bound Together Books: http://www.boundtogetherbooks.com/

COYOTE: http://www.bayswan.org/COYOTE.html

Food Not Bombs: http://www.foodnotbombs.net/

9/11 Truth Movement: http://www.911truth.org/ or http://www.scholarsfor911truth.org/

Not In Our Name: http://www.notinourname.net/index.php

Jon Turner: I am no longer the monster I once was ... Bush cannot say this..

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 13:41:00 +0000

Jon Turner went to Iraq with an Arabic phrase tattooed on his wrist.

It says ‘fuck you.’ “I got that because it was my choking hand. Anytime I felt the need to take out aggression, I would go ahead and use it."

MOTEL 6, Olympia, WA — Today I met with a few of the high priests of the Bigfoot research community.

Joe Beelart took me to Ray Crowe's house in Portland, and we had lunch with M.K. Davis and Don Monroe. Davis has done some extensive research on the Patterson-Gimlin film. He believes that not only is the film authentic, the creature is human, not ape.

Davis, from Mississippi, was in the area to speak at a meeting of the Western Bigfoot Society. While he was here, he also visited with Roger Patterson's widow in Yakima and Bob Gimlin, who lives south of Portland.

If you have not seen the video of the Winter Soldier hearings, here
they are.

How can we go another day without having a national discussion about this? Discussion is not quite the word I'm looking for. How about screaming fucking cage match?

You ever hear those professional football announcers talking about how this team or that team plays "smash-mouth" football?

Oh, yeah? Really?

They must be tough mo-fo's.

Wonder what those smash-mouth guys are doing about standing nose to nose with those who are lying to them, killing in their name, stealing from them?

What sense does it make to fill out the day's To-Do list without putting "What About This Sending Our Kids To Murder People In Other Countries Thing?" in there somewhere between "Pick Up Milk," and "Drop Off Big Lebowski/OVERDUE!"

It makes no sense.

Shock & Awe.

They Shocked & Awed US with 9/11, then they bombed Iraq, and now, and now .... and now.

Geezuz.

I've had a few days to hang. Yesterday I drove south to Salem, Oregon, from Portland, then east to Mill City for the afternoon.

Another old-home experience. Roger and Bob and I came out there in the '70s for our big adventure. We met the Huckabees. They fed us fresh-caught salmon and we smelled the wood that Lester was cutting in his shed to make shakes for his son's new home.

I then came out again later by myself in my dad's '59 Chevy with the wings, and with my dog, and a new cowboy hat I bought in Fort Collins on the way.

I worked for a few days in the hills, on a core-drilling team, me and another guy. We saw a mountain lion up close one morning on the drive up to work.

I saw the exit sign for Mt. Angel on the way. There is a monastery there, I know.

I went there on that second trip, with my dog, thought this is pretty cool, the big stone edifice. They said I couldn't keep my dog if I joined up, so I went home and joined the seminary in Saint Paul.

The North Santiam River flows through Mill City. You cross over an old steel bridge.

The town is small, about 1,500 population. It smells like rain and wood. I found a walking path up close to the mountains and took it, beating my sticks against the trees and howling, in order to call the Bigfoot to me.

That must not be how you do it.

I didn't see anything, but it was cool to finally be up there in the big woods where something actually might happen.

Bush was booed, loudly, as he threw out the first pitch at the Nationals game yesterday.

That's effing-great.

______________________

"I don't mean to sound bitter, cold, or cruel, but I am, so that's how
it comes out."

— Bill Hicks

_________________

Next time, get security to tackle him and handcuff him.

He is a criminal, a murderer.

Really.

He is.

He and his crew did 9/11. They lied in order to start a war and got young Americans killed and traumatized and turned into murderers as well.

The only way we stop the war, the coming war, and start to bring this country around, away from the waterfall, is to march George W. Bush into court.

And put the cuffs on behind his back. He is an asshole.

If there is a hell, George W. Bush will have his own box seat in one of the highest rings.

Burn Dubya burn.

seeya

— Mike

www.mikepalecek.com

* This afternoon I was on Gorilla Radio, Vancouver, Canada, with Chris
Cook.
http://www.atlanticfreepress.com/loudblog//audio/Gorilla_Radio_2007
-2008-04-01-34995.mp3

________________

Upcoming:

April 2nd: Seattle, Revolution Books, 1833 Nagle Place.

7 p.m.

__________________

This is from Iowa Terror.

We are watching everyone except those we should be watching. The terrorists are in Washington, D.C.

Dude.

Iowa Terror
by Mike Palecek

Chapter Four

Securing The Perimeter

Is this heaven?

Well.

From way up here it kinda does, maybe seem like that.

I am waaay up here.

Up here.

On the water tower!

Not on the water tower, on that walkway that goes around.

We've got one of those silver, pointed ones, not so big, not like the big, round white ones they have in Des Moines and Cedar Falls.

Ours depicts, at various times, the town name, the current graduating class, the current mayor's current girlfriend, and the current state of the local educational system via spelling acumen.

Well, I have been stationed here by the local city council to look for terrorists, for Jesus Iowa, maybe his gang. He might have a gang, that's some of the reports we've been getting.

I am scanning the perimeter.

Looking for The Iowa Terrorist, Jesus Iowa.

As well as any other terror types.

Hey, they gave me this cool pith helmet with netting, and a beeper. I get a beeper. I've tried it. It beeps.

And I've got this assistant, Jordan. He's going to be in fifth grade in the fall. He sends me up extra water on this pulley system he has fixed up ...

Anyway ...

Maybe I'm facing the wrong way, but what I see is Mrs. Van der VanDreesen pulling into the Hy Vee lot. She's been pulling in for most of the morning. There's a special on iceberg lettuce.

And I see Jarrod van de Boom. He's driving around in the cruiser, mostly watching me.

There's most of the city council coming out of coffee at Family Table. They're not really supposed to get together like that, makes people think they're planning, making decisions outside of meetings.

They're pointing up at me. Hey, guys.

There's the spire of Saint Judy's Catholic Church over in Creameryville, on the other side of the corn and soybeans and the river and the dump and the national guard armory.

There's lights on the ball field, the construction site for the new middle school next to the high school, the kids arranging the lawn chair display in the Pamida parking lot.

Some of our teams went to state last year.

The one-act play group got a gold medal in Ames. They always do. It's a tradition.

I can see apple pies cooling and blueberries ripening and I hear cardinals.

The noon whistle of the white picket fence factory is more of a toot.

And I can see how Jesus Iowa would want to ruin it all.

Fucker.

It's rumored that he hates us for our hand-sized bluegills and the smell of wood smoke and lawn leaves and he steals leaves.

As any good terrorist knows, the way to really stick it to freedom is to demolish icons.

Well, I'll keep my eyes peeled.

Is this a great country?

Or what?

That is the question.

Looking for the truth about America. It's become a cottage industry these days.

Most of us are in the habit of believing things — especially when they come from mainstream sources. We believe things mostly because we see them on TV, or because a "respected" expert or leader assures us they are true.

Geezuz, don't do that.

That's where we are, where we're heading, to the place where nobody believes anything coming out of Washington, D.C., printed in our major newspapers, seen on TV, heard on the radio, because we know it's all lies — the way the folks leaning on the bar in the Rusty Sickle in
downtown Moscow must have felt about each pronouncement that came from the Kremlin, Tass, Pravda.

Just shaking their heads, saying, what a bunch of lying sons of midgets and musk ox.

Show me the difference.

The only difference is that it is us, and it's now, and it's here — and we can't believe this is happening to us. And we will deny it is happening to us for the rest of our lives.

Remember those press conferences on TV where the director of Homeland Security stands up there with the director of the FBI?

They are sporting new "Look The Fuck Out" terror-orange hardhats and T-shirts and padded vests, with hip waders, and camo, waterproof hunting boots cut to the calf.

Duck calls sticking out of their back pockets.

That was leading up to the last presidential election.

They don't have those anymore. I wonder why.

We're getting ready to blow the fuck out of the Iranians — who are each and everyone born terrorists of course — and so now we have to have terrorists in a New York City airport.

Well ... to show that it makes perfect sense to kill the Iranians.

Time to re-Duct Tape your windows, dude.

We forget too easily.

Remember.

Remember how George W. Bush came to power.

A coup d'etat.

He stole The Presidential Election.

Twice.

Abetted by The Supreme Court and The Free Press.

We, some of us — I, suspect he and his junta engineered 911, murdered Paul Wellstone, lied about WMD.

The fuckers have secret prisons in Poland and Romania and Disneyland and they torture people.

All this for power.

Don't worry about a thing.

The perimeter is secure.

I'll let you know if I see anything.

Hasta los tacos.

And there is Lula Vander Zwaag.

I could see a lot more if I had some binos.

Hey!

Heeey! Jordaaan!

Looking for the truth, in a coffee shop, in the mountains..

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 03:07:00 +0000

...in the scraps of paper on the floor ...

"I gotta tell you the truth, folks, I gotta tell you the truth.

"When it comes to bullshit ... big-time, major-league bullshit ... you
have to stand in awe of religion.

"Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there is
an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every
minute of every day.

"And the invisible man has a list of ten things he does not want you to
do.

"And if you do any of these things he has a special place, full of fire
and burning and smoke and anguish, and where he will send you to burn
and suffer and choke and scream and cry forever and ever, 'til the end
of time.

"... But he loves you."

— George Carlin, Zeitgeist

TWIN PARADOX COFFEE SHOP, Portland, Oregon — "Hey, dude fellow, gimme one a them-there Grandee Motcha Breeve's."

Turn right at E. Burnside St., turn left onto 10th Ave., end at NE 10th Ave.

My car floor is littered with notes from Mapquest and hosts about how to get from Point A to Point B. Sometimes I get there, sometimes I have to scramble from Point P to T to C, then B, but so far so good.

Tomorrow I'm going into the mountains with Joe Beelart, a longtime email Bigfooting friend. We are going looking for Bigfoot, looking for the truth about America. We are going to turn the stone and look beneath it — and also find out who killed John and Bobby and Martin and Malcolm.

It's Sunday. I have correctly followed the directions given me to a funkedelic Portland coffee shop, dogs roam in and out. I ask the guy behind the counter for a Grande Mocha Breve.

You cannot buy black coffee in Oregon. It is against the law.

In Oregon they also pump your gas for you. It's either because they think everyone else is too stupid, or something. I ask the guy to explain the Grande Mocha Breve to me, and after he's done I smile and nod and say okay. I have no idea what he said.

I ask for "one of those bagels" and point.

He asks if I want it toasted and whether I want Brazilian almond spread or Guatamalan Bagel Spread Mocha Shit on it, and I say no, just plain, thanks.

Geezuz.

Yesterday I read at Laughing Horse Books. I met with five members of the local 911 Truth group.

It is the uber-intelligentsia of Portland, is my impression. And here I am reading out of a big children's book with color pictures.

Well, we had a good time, really. I enjoyed listening to them.

Tim Calvert is one of the original founding members of Laughing Horse. He has been with the store since 1985. That is hard-core. Dedication. Serious.

After my thing we go to Nicolas' Restaurant for Lebanese food. It is the best Lebanese food I have ever had. There is humus and pita bread and other stuff.

And Turkish coffee. Farm out. Also the best Turkish Coffee I have ever tasted.

Then we went over to Powell's Books, on 10th Avenue. I guess people do still read. There are hundreds of people looking around.

Geezuz God, that is kinda surprising.

I think of my two books in the trunk of my car and think that these people would like them, but they will never see them.

It is magic — to be able to get a book into a store like this.

Poof!

I am gone, outside, into the rain to call home, talk to Ruth, feel at ease, at home, if only for a while.

Ruth says that Emily has a cold, but she went to work today at Hy-Vee anyway, but now she has a chance to rest.

And it seems Ruth got a postcard from me from Albuquerque, a full-color photo of the back of the ol' brown, rusted '91 Honda and a speeding ticket for $89.

Geezuz.

I wonder if I have sent anymore postcards home without knowing it.

I spoke in Corvallis on Friday night. It was one of the really good nights. It was upstairs at the Odd Fellows Hall, put on by the local Veterans For Peace. About twenty-five people, very nice. And then I got to stay in the back yard cottage of Bart and Leah Bolger for the night.

The next morning Bart went out to deliver mail in the snow in the hills and Leah and I went out for breakfast at The Beanery.

Around the table sat the regular group of gray-hairs, some with pony tails, talking, eating bagels, laughing, passing around petitions.

Leah and Bart are retired from the Navy. Beginning in 2000, they spent three years on a sailboat and two years in an RV — never touching the ground except to pee.

Leah has long, graying hair and on her sweater she had numbers written on masking tape. They are the number of United States soldiers killed in Iraq and below that the estimated number of Iraqi's killed in the war.

She wants people to ask her what the numbers mean.

Leah was at the recent Winter Soldier hearings in Silver Spring, Maryland. If you listen to the tapes you can hear her sobbing when a mother and father describe the process their son went through after coming back from Iraq until he committed suicide.

Leah says that she tried to get the local Gazette-Times to cover the hearings, but the editor said there was no local hook, besides his not wanting to alienate his readers and lose money.

I recall that in my first newspaper job at the Ainsworth Star-Journal in the Sandhills of Nebraska I once wrote a column about the first gulf war that said "I do not support the troops."

That was when the yellow ribbon thing was really getting started up. My column was cancelled and the publisher said he did not want to alienate his readers and thus lose money.

That burst my idealistic journalism bubble.

And I ask Leah if maybe that feeling extends all the way up through the Corvallis Gazette-Times to some fancy wood-soaked meeting room in a big CBS building, and that is why we are stupid.

A guy at the table in The Beanery, from Mississippi, grins when I ask him if Mississippi is like Iowa. His grin says, "you dumbshit."

He says that he once heard of a guy from Iowa telling a friend that he was going to visit Pittsburgh.

"Why," his friend says, "you can see it from Iowa."

It's baseball season, but you would not know it from the rain and the mud and the wood smoke smell. The Oregon State Beavers have won the College World Series the past two years. I love baseball and should go see if they are playing today.

Too cold. No time. I have to get to Portland.

I stayed with Tim & Jan Calvert in Portland. We watched "Something Funny Happened On The Way To the Moon."

Have you seen that yet? Wow.

Have you ever seen the video of the press conference of the three astronauts, Aldrin, Armstrong, Collins — the very first public appearance they had after claiming to walk on the moon.

You would think they would be high-fiving and turning somersaults.

"The freaking MOON, man! Wa-effing-hoo!"

They sit there like they are depressed, like they just ran over their own new puppy in the driveway on their way home, after midnight, after stealing their dad's car, to get drunk, with money they stole from their blind grandmother who lives in the nursing home on the edge of
town — all dimes and nickles.

Dude. We didn't go to the moon.

Dude. Is there a God?

Dude. Did our own government attack it's own country in order to start
a war and get rich?

Who killed John and Bobby and Martin?

Dude. These are things we need to talk about.

Let me getcha a Grande Mocha Breve — my personal favorite — and lets just sit and talk for awhile.

Besides, it's raining outside.

seeya

— Mike

__________________

Upcoming:

April 2nd: Seattle, Revolution Books, 1833 Nagle Place.

7 p.m.

Snowing, rainy, sunshine, icy ... snowing, rainy, sunshine, icy ... snowing, rain..

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 03:20:00 +0000

"Some humans ain't human. Some people ain't kind. If you open up their hearts, here's what you'll find. A few frozen pizzas, some ice cubes with hair, some broken popsicles, you don't want to go there."

— John Prine

BEAVERS CANTINA, Corvallis, Oregon — The forecast for central Oregon today was "light rain, followed by hard rain, with a stint of scattered precipitation, to be followed by a period of general gloom."

This morning I left Bend, headed north on Highway 97, trying to go around the Cascades and not have to go over the summit like I did yesterday and hit the heavy snow. But 97 turned to a total white-out, so I turned around. A few miles later there is a pickup on its top. It wasn't there a few minutes ago. I found my way to I-85, Portland, Salem and down to the land of Oregon State University.

Go Beavs.

Yesterday I read at The Book Barn in Bend, owned by Linda Torres. She came to Bend from southern California in 1972. Bend was cool then.

"I hate it now," she says.

It has grown, one of the fastest growing cities in the country for a while, says my host for the day, Ray Duray. Ray is a one-man peace & justice coalition and 9/11 Truth campaign.

After my talk we go along with the "Save The Badlands" group on one part of it's three-bar pub crawl around the downtown.

I hitchhiked from Bend to Nebraska in 1978, I think it was. Roger and Bob and I came out here after Wayne State College let out for the summer. We worked in a mushroom plant in Salem. We hoped to get jobs in the woods, but didn't. I eventually got lonely for Sarah Sister Golden Hair, and I had a job lined up with the state roads department, so I rode my thumb home.

I see hitchhikers along the road quite often. So far I haven't picked anyone up. I tell myself I don't have room, too much stuff crammed into every corner. The hitchhikers are the hobos of our time. Back in California I thought about the Oakies and the "Grapes of Wrath." I try to write that book every time I start a new novel. I think the Oakies of today are from Oaxaca.

Back in Chico I had a short talk with Marylyn about the movie "Zeitgeist." Marylyn says it doesn't matter if the date Dec. 25 and resurrection, and a bunch of other stuff have been copied in several religions, doesn't mean it's not real, that there's not a God.

I just wonder if when we sit in church with our rosaries we aren't a bunch of pygmies dancing around a campfire in the middle of the woods at night.
__________________________

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
We are the kids of war and peace
From Anaheim to the middle east
We are the stories and disciples
Of the Jesus of suburbia
Land of make believe
That don't believe in me

— Green Day, Jesus of Suburbia

__________________________

I came down out of the mountains and saw the Columbia River. That is why there are so many liberals out here. I can see why someone from Nebraska or Iowa wouldn't care that much about nuclear war or the end of the world. If it's ... say January 17, at about 3:30 in the afternoon, you're like, awright, whatever.

But if you were out here you would want to save this shit..

____________________

"It would be so much easier if this were a dictatorship."

— George W. Bush

____________________

If I were king for a day, I would be busy. I would put loggers and hunters in county jail. I would let the druggies go and rich people would take their place.

Yesterday in Bend the discussion came, as it does sometimes, to the question of, if Bush & Co. did 9/11 themselves, how do they live with themselves. Some people think it's because these folks are psychopathic, without a conscience. Maybe, but I'm still not sure.

Linn County Oregon is the "Grass Seed Capital of the World," so this is where America really takes root.

About a block from me, on Fourth Street, between Monroe and Jefferson Avenues, in front of the county courthouse, the longest running protest against the war is now taking place.

People have been standing out there at 5 p.m. every-effing-day for six years. That's a lot. I could be there, but there's a college basketball game on the TV here in this bar, and I have really been out of touch for the past weeks.

I'm not really Joe Protester, to tell you the truth. This book "Cost of Freedom" celebrates the many people who do the stuff like stand on street corners every day for six years, and I am glad to be a part of that, but I haven't really done that much.

I have gone to work and written my books.

Go Beavs.

seeya

— Mike

_________________

Letters from Readers

Mike,

This is getting to be too much spam, please take me off your list. I need to keep this email cleared for important message related to actual organizing opportunities.

Good luck,
— Chris

Mike,
You need a pee bottle for pete’s sake. Just like the truckers do.

— DW

Dude ... you're getting to see all kinds of groovy places.

I dig on Bigfoot. Have since I was in about sixth grade.

In the mid-'70s I saw movie that featured that Patterson film footage that was shown in the Ritz Theatre in Denison. I believe it was called "Mysterious Monstors."

The movie also included the Loch Ness Monster and the Yeti. My sister and I went.

I remember staring out the window each night at the corn field behind our house, halfway hoping to see a Bigfoot, and halfway hoping I didn't. The movie was sort of scary.

This may have been the same year I saw Jaws in the same theatre. I must have been only eight or nine years old. But they let me in. I left in the middle with hands over my eyes.

— David Namanny

Please take me off this list.

— Jeanne

Mike.

.Enjoy reading you.

Eureka is always cold always raining,that is exactly what you found.

Eureka!..You found it!

On the subject of nuclear missile bases...you will love this.

I have a very good friend in Uzbekistan, he is dean of the university of Sanmarkand. I met him in Iowa City. Really cool guy, tap dances, plays saxophone.

But during the cold war he was in the Soviet army and his job was to calibrate all of the Russian missiles on American targets. Cool huh?..my pal, Kamol.

One day we were driving to Pella Days, and he was looking at the Iowa map, and laughed.

For all of the crap we were fed about Soviet surveillance systems?

They used FREE maps from the Triple A to aim the missiles back at us!

Drive good.

— Tim Tafco

Hey Mike ...

Well, it was good to have you! Too short, though. I keep thinking of other things to say. Like ... re: Bobby Kennedy ...I saw a very well-done documentary (BBC?) about Bobby which highlighted his "conversion" from what he was as Attorney General to what he became when campaigning for the presidency. Seems he was pretty hard-nosed as AG, but when he started his campaign and found himself in direct contact with the poor, his heart really softened.

Also about faith in God ...
It's always difficult for me to put this in words, but I have a sense of the fact that from the very earliest times, human beings have KNOWN that a Mystery beyond our ken has not only posited a creation, but has somehow penetrated the boundary between Thing and NO-Thing and become one with this creation. And from the earliest times, we finite human beings have tried and tried to explain this to ourselves and others by means of stories. Some do a better job than others. And always we know it's impossible for our puny little minds to understand because it would have to be a puny little God (and, therefore, no God at all) if our little minds could comprehend this Mystery.

— Marylyn

Dear Mike-

Recieved a letter this am from Tom Wodetski via email telling that only two people showed at your appearance at Cheshire Books. I couldn't make it because of another commitment, but would have loved to have been there. I've been busy trying to put together a benefit for a small shelter for children in Baghdad and working on the details; ie.- posters, tickets, PR, on my computer.

This is an unusual area in that we have a long-time, blue collar working class contingent, "resistant to change" and people who moved here in the late 60's-early 70's "back to the landers" and now the recently retired, rich folks who used to come up for vacation, who've
driven the price of property sky-high. So- it's a mix. Mostly Democrats though. A few sprinklings of Greens, Libertarians, and Whatevers--and GOP.

I have been standing against the Illegal Invasion of Iraq since before it happened, here on the coast. The mood has certainly changed towards us in the last two years toward the positive. Friends and I have organized a few rallys, marches and I stand with Women in Black every First Friday. I have worked to educate young folks about the Draft for many years. And--I'm on The Single-payer Healthcare Board for this Chapter for SB840 in CA. I am 61 and getting tired...I'm only sorry that I can't do more or be at every event possible. I am sorry I had to miss yours. Don't blame Fort Bragg tho--blame the diseases: apathy, greed and fear.

My best to you on you sojourn,

In Peace,

☮ Nancy Milano

Mike,

Good, just got back from a hike around Topanga Canyon with the family. Warm and sunny in the canyon, but socked in with luscious fog here in Santa Monica. For some reason, dense marine layer coastal fog, the kind that drips from the eaves, has become a rarity. This isn't so mushy,
but it's nice. I used to live in the Mission in SF, so I enjoyed picturing you having a drink at a rooftop bar. It was less trendy in those days, but unless it's all been bulldozed, I'm sure it still
retains funk. As is so often the case, I'm listening to Sun Ra. Hope alls well.

— Rex

Mike, I've heard you comment so often about the stress of needing to pee in traffic, and as a voluminous cross-country coffee and beer drinker, I do understand the crises you've experienced.

NO PROBLEM MAN!

Get yourself a pecan .... (heh, down in some parts of Oklahoma, the pronounce it pee-can). I don't travel anyplace without a pecan in my old truck. When the bladder gets full, I pull over even in heavy traffic, pull out the pecan and use it. At the earliest opportunity, I take the opportunity to empty it. Sometimes even at the spot where I used it. Just open the door a bit and dump it on the assfault.

— Larry Hicks

Mike,

I've been getting your travel notes via email from a friend.

How may I get on your email list to receive these wonderful missives?

I've shared them with various political people on my email list and most are thoroughly enjoying your take on life, the world, the road.

BTW, I work for the actor/ activist Ed Asner and he's been enjoying too.

— Patty Egan
Personal Assistant to
Ed Asner

Mike,

We want to accept your article but it needs a bit more work, as described below.

You submitted an article titled:
Wealth is a Very Dangerous Thing To Hold in One's Hand

— Op Ed News Administrator

P.S. You need to remove "shit," and substitute something else. While foul language may be appropriate to impart strong emotion, it is just gratuitous as you have used it here. The same may be said with your described urinary tract urgency.

Your Original Submission is attached to this email

Please do NOT reply to this email; no one will see it.

Dear Mike,

I enjoyed your book very much. Thanks for your daily dose of e-sanity in a world gone mad.

Stay cool,

David

* * * * * * * * *
— David Mathison
BE THE MEDIA

On March 19, I dragged my friend Kim, a special ed. teacher, to a war protest held in Memorial Park in Omaha, NE, and organized by moveon.org. Earlier, Friends for Peace, held a rally in the same location. It was cold and damp and got dark quickly. The speeches were too long and the wind got stronger as each speech got longer. We held placards protesting the war and flashlights or glow sticks. Kim and I shared a blanket I’d brought as the rain began to fall. When the wind rushed up the hillside like an attack of shrieking, suicidal banshees, we caved and headed for the car. We were followed by the remainder of the protesters and a few lightweight lawn chairs! Where was the press to cover the protest? Where was the follow-up reporting in the next day’s newspapers? No one cares because the media is keeping it out of the news. And who owns the media?

— Kathleen J.

Hey Mike-
You’re in the best part of the state now. Someday I will move back there, not sure I should have left.. But I did. I’d be glad to unblock Namanny, if I knew what that was, or how to do it. He emailed me and replied a couple of weeks ago. I’ll email him again. I doubt you’ll find anyone that remembers me, it was almost 20 years ago.
Jesus – that’s a long time – who’d a thunk?
Take care, stay out of trouble and try to avoid the body casts

— Lundquist

Well, Holy Easter Crap, Auto-Crusader!

Careful of all those nerves you're touchin' Out There! And just remember, when Zinn was in MN a few years back, here's what he said:
You try and you try and you try and you try; and you try and you try and you try and you try; and nothing happens.
Then, one day, it does.
It's all about process, putting in place an alternative vibe, sending an alternative message, as we keep heading toward a better way of being, while hoping we don't blow ourselves up, or completely wreck the planet, first.

— Leigh

Dear Mike,

We're still aglow from the other night with yr powerful presenation & encourage us to try to harmonize. Onwords!

— David & Judy Ray

Mike, thanks SO MUCH for the copy of IOWA TERROR -- it's even better than I remember it from the file. I very much like the presentation -- the cover slightly reminds me of a coloring book, which I like, and the illustrations extend that feeling. And though the sans serif font
is not supposed to work for longer documents, it seems to do well here, maybe especially because the paragraphs are short. Just excellent all around.

— Phil Hey

San Francisco Anarchist Book Fair

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 14:33:00 +0000

Some thoughtful commentary on the San Francisco Anarchist Book Fair, by Paul Corman Roberts. Paul, Mike Palecek and Dan Benbow recently Cost of Freedom at the fair.

In northern CA, amid the mountains, the redwoods, the beer, bait ...

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 01:26:00 +0000

..& Bigfoot.

"Well how do ya do, young Willie McBride, do you mind if I sit down here, by your graveside?"
— Erik Bogel, The Greenfields of France

LOST COAST BAR & CAFE, Eureka, CA — It's cold, rainy, and the good ol' boys are lining the bar. We are not in Santa Monica anymore.

One of the guys comes up to me and slurs in my ear, seeing me with my computer, "you must be the only intelligent person in town."

I doubt it. I seriously doubt it.

"When we came upon the creature it was standing still by the creek. It immediately turned and walked away."

That's Bob Gimlin describing finding Bigfoot near Willow Creek, California in 1967, along with Roger Patterson.

I passed through Willow Creek today while coming through the northern California mountains on my way from Chico to Eureka.

Yesterday I spoke at Chico State University, then stayed the night up on the mountain with Marylyn Felion in her cabin. Marylyn is an old friend from the 1980s when we were both in Omaha working on various peace and justice projects.

One of the things we did was go to Offutt Air Force Base and "cross the line," which is trespassing, in order to speak out against America's military machine, in hopes of stopping the United States from destroying the world and also in hope that the money might rather be spent on the poor of north Omaha.

On one occasion Marylyn was due to go to federal court along with another friend to face trespassing charges at Offutt.

Rather than show up in court they decided to take sanctuary in the Cathedral of the Omaha Catholic Church, and make it very public, in order to try to get the Omaha Catholic Church and Archbishop Daniel Sheehan to speak out against the targeting of nuclear weapons taking place at Offutt.

So, weeks before the date, the church knew about it, the press knew about it, and apparently the FBI knew about it too.

They raided Marylyn's home at five in the morning and also the home of the other defendant, Kevin McGuire.

Kevin and his family were not home. They lived with Ruth and I and Sam at Greenfields, a resistance community in north Omaha, named after the Irish anti-war song, The Greenfields of France. Kevin and Laura were out at the lake. Ruth and Sam and I were in Norfolk visiting my mother.

At Marylyn's her housemates were able to lock the doors before the FBI could get in, and they thought the feds had departed. But when Marylyn's dog had to be taken outside to do its duty the FBI cars swooped down the street from all directions.

Marylyn's 70-year-old landlady, Jean Petersen, tried to block the way but was shoved to the side. Another roommate, a young man, blocked the steps. Marylyn demanded identification and a warrant, and one agent said they did not need to provide any.

Marylyn then hurried upstairs to call the press and also the Omaha police, saying strangers were in her home claiming they were the FBI.

The police and the press arrived and Marylyn was taken away on camera. It was the lead story on television and radio for days in Omaha. Friends then crossed the line in protest of the treatment of Marylyn — then Kevin, in hiding until a few days later, was able to undertake the
original sanctuary action, with additional press coverage.

So, the FBI and the Omaha Catholic Church were not able to hush up the sanctuary action with their early morning raids. They only served to give it even more attention.

Well, Marylyn's cabin is up in the big woods near Cohasset, outside of Chico. We have a great late-night old-home session, remembering the days of the '80s in Omaha, and lots of old friends.

In the morning I head off toward Redding and then turn east on 299 to go through the mountains.

Around and around, up, up, down, down. It's raining, then foggy.

The puffs of clouds and fog look like dozens of little fires in the forest.

I pass the Bigfoot Campground, Bigfoot Rafting, Bigfoot Burger, and Bigfoot Bait.

Must be some sort of theme.

I see the sign for Willow Creek.

Another I-can't-believe-I'm-here moment.

I think I saw a Bigfoot on two occasions. Once was in southern Minnesota in the '90s driving along the interstate late at night. The other was in the '80s while I was walking up on a hillside in Spearfish Canyon in South Dakota.

Anyway, I love the woods. I think it's the mystery. You can't see what's there, you can only imagine.

I'm following the beautiful Trinity River. At the top the rain becomes snow and ice, then rain again at the bottom.

Off to the left I see some black things on the mountainside. I pull over in a parking area and stare. They are a long ways off, but I definitely see about ten black things on the mountainside. I don't have binoculars. I'm thinking Bigfoot because I have Bigfoot on the brain — but they look like they are on all-fours.

Cows? Cows way up in the mountain? Where is the farm? Why way up there?

As I drive away I think bears maybe. Do bears hang around in packs of ten? Elk? Are elk black? I didn't see antlers, but I was a long way away.

I just don't know.

The mountains and the woods.

Beautiful. Mystery.

seeya

— Mike
____________________

Here is an excerpt from Looking For Bigfoot, Howling Dog Press, 2006.

Bigfoot is about a man, Jack Robert King, who leaves his Iowa home to go west, in search of the truth about America.

... from Looking For Bigfoot ...

"They shot down or lasered-down Wellstone's plane and they really did attack their own Pentagon.

I see this and I have zero documentation. I don't care. I have all the proof I need from the glazed look in your eye as you struggle to attach the American flag to your car antenna.

I understand America by watching you.

I know it from growing up in the Midwest of America, from playing baseball and football and riding down the middle of the street with no hands eating an ice cream cone. The strawberry drips on my T-shirt and I don't care. Mom will wash it, clean it up, just as she rinses the blood of a thousand Chileans from her hands. A lemony spray makes everything smell fresh.

I see more than I want to in the referee's face as he prepares the jump-ball toss and the smile of the drive-up teller as she helps another customer.

Would evil men and women kill in order to gain absolute power? Pretty darn near impossible to believe when they look just like us and sound like us, tell the same tired jokes and watch the same TV shows.

I do know, because I saw it myself over the top of my SuperSize Diet Pepsi, that while children are being bombed to gooey bits, the mail still arrives at our house at ten, and the garbage is picked up at one, school dismisses at three-thirty and Raymond comes on at seven.

I see the banality of evil old Mrs. Schwartz using her tongs to set another fish square into a slot on a lunch tray at St. Mark's elementary as a child in Baghdad has his nose blown off by a bomb he thought was a toy.

I do not have a leaked file or a tidbit of information or an inside source.

I know all I need to know from seeing your guilty face staring out into the night while you wash dishes, or leaning out the car window to order an A&W root beer, or chasing your children into the school house with one last admonition.

I don't need to know George Bush or Karl Rove.

I know you."

________________________

Upcoming:

www.mikepalecek.com

March 26: Eureka, CA
100 Fires Bookstore
www.100fires.com

730 p.m.

Why I Still Heart Ralph Nader

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 03:39:00 +0000

I want to break from my usual mode of posting on Cost of Freedom and Mike's tour (which, if you've missed his updates, can be found to your right in the archive -- worth checking out! stay safe in Oregon, MP!), to post about something more personal.

Ralph Nader. And why I still love him.

From an interview in this week's Newsweek:

Howard Fineman: You've done more than one life's worth of work. Why go do this at this point?

Ralph Nader: Well, you're asking a personal question. So I will give you an unusual personal answer. I have a very deep well of empathy, and I take my motivation from what I see around the country. And I'll give it to you just briefly, statistically: 47 million people who make less than $10.50 an hour—six and a half, seven, eight dollars an hour before deductions; 45 million people without health care, 18,000 of whom die every year, according to the National Academy of Sciences, because they can't afford health care; 13 million children who go to bed hungry every night; 45 million people in dire poverty; 58,000 people who die from workplace-connected diseases and trauma every year, according to [the Occupational Safety and Health Administration]; 65,000 people who can't breathe, and die because of air pollution. I mean, do I have to go on? I mean, just what more evidence is needed that each and every one of us who has an ability to improve his or her country has got to do what they have to do within the confines of the Constitution and rule of law and freedom of speech?

I don't need to go into the politics, or the issues, or the 2000 election, or all the boring stuff we make a pretense of caring about, even though we ignore those Common Dreams or Save Darfur alerts that clutter our inboxes.

This is the reality: we're in this because we know (we know) this is wrong.

We don't have to justify it -- it just is. If you are a human being, and you live on planet earth, you know that it is wrong that people live in crushing poverty; that children go to bed hungry at night; that mothers have to lose their children because of corporate greed.

Ralph Nader knows it, I know it, you know, we all know it. As Nader says, if you have the ability to change these statistics, how can you not do everything in your power to do so?

This is what it means to pay the cost of freedom.

Wealth is a very dangerous thing to hold in one's hand

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 19:07:00 +0000

"We don't smoke marijuana in Muskogee."
— Merle Haggard

THE HEADLANDS CAFE, Ft. Bragg, CA — Lots of vineyards and shit around here.

Did you see the movie Sideways? I am in it, it is me, if you take out the sex and the wine and most of the other stuff.

In Santa Cruz I stayed with Russell Brutsche, who did the art for the cover of Iowa Terror.

Rus is a self-described old hippie, art major, who rents out his home to a family and lives in the garage in back with no TV and no overhead.

I met with the folks at the Peace & Justice Center then went for a walk with Rus in the woods. Rus told me about art and peace and shit and I looked around for Bigfoot. He told me about an action being planned at the local military recruiter's offices to commemorate the death of the
4,000th American soldier in Iraq.

The next morning back up through Oakland and San Francisco, up through Sonoma and wine country. Can you imagine the amount of labor it takes to put those vine contraptions together?

There are cows lounging on the green hillsides like Roman senators, some big sheep.

I turn left at a busy intersection in Willits, headed for Ft. Bragg.

Lots of redwoods around there and shit.

Winding, winding, up, down, it's almost like the highway headed north out of Los Angeles they call "the grapevine." It's third gear straight up, in the dark, then eighty miles an hour straight down with semis and SUVS all around you, curving, and you are going to die. It takes you
about half an hour to descend down to the plains around Bakersfield, like an airliner approaching landing.

Excuse me. ... I'm going to put on my earphones and listen to Jerry Jeff Walker sing about Charlie Dunn, too much jabbering around me.

I spent most of yesterday stopping to pee. Some days are like that. Some days aren't.

Regular readers will recall that during last year's tour I got caught in traffic in Chicago and had to let fly on the floor of my car. I got home and Ruth asked me what's that smell? Nothing. I can't smell anything. I left the windows down all summer. It's fine now.

Yesterday I missed the turn for GG Bridge, Hwy 101 North, and ended up on the filming site for that old TV show "The Streets of San Francisco." Woah. That is when you think you are going to die. Trapped in a big city at an endless red light, you are lost, you have to pee so bad, so bad. And you will die.

And then you don't.

_______________________

"It's a half an inch of water and you think you're gonna drown."
— John Prine

_______________________

And then there is the GG Bridge.

Wow.

But it's foggy and you can barely see well enough to drive, let alone admire the bridge. But the family back home doesn't know that. You can still tell them you have been to the GG Bridge — in San Francisco, and you did not pee in your pants or your car! You are quite the old Dad. Your car will not stink this summer. You are a hero.

Lots of ocean around here and shit.

I did not know that. You come out of the winding roads and maybe you have not stopped your car to throw up and you cruise into Ft. Bragg and there is the goddamn ocean right there, crashing against the rocks.

Cool.

Seagulls swooping and shit. Some are mostly white, others are mostly grey. They are big, like ducks, like the mourning doves in Tucson.

And it's whale time out there. If you stare long enough you might see one. Greys. You don't.

I did a book signing at Cheshire Books. Nobody showed, but the owner, Linda Rosengarten, took time to sit and tell me the history of the area, about the mill, the fishing, the Pomo Indians. I guess Ft. Bragg was named for Ft. Bragg, North Carolina, "the home of the airborne and special forces operations," which was named for Gen. Braxton Bragg.

The mill is closed, a toxic waste dump dilemma, the salmon and halibut are gone, the Pomo are walking the streets, and Braxton Bragg is dust.

And they had a dinner-with-the-author meal at five at Mendo Bistro, very fancy.

We had a table for eight, but it was just me and Linda, my guide for the day. Linda is very nice. She is deaf so I have to look at her as I talk. We both order mahi-mahi. I've never heard of it. It's okay, but it makes me think of eating cocker-spaniel. We also have mashed potatoes. I like those.

Afterwards Linda went to the library to set up chairs and I went back out to the ocean, past the turn to Pomo College, to call Ruth and sit and watch for oceans, for God, for sea turtles.

There were two people besides Linda at my thing. It was good. We talked about 911 and elections and the government and protesting.

I spent the night at the home of Ft. Bragg city council person Meg Courtney.

She had a late meeting, but in the morning we had coffee and bagels. She said one of the big issues of the night before had to do with marijuana.

Seems the citizens of Ft. Bragg are haggling over how much marijuana to smoke.

Back home we don't talk about marijuana. We talk about whether it is moral to mow your lawn on Sunday.

I am glad there is a place in this world that they are not worried about going to hell for bagging grass on God's Big Day.

Meg and I ask each other why marijuana isn't legal. I wonder why we have millions of "this Bud's for you" commercials and then we go and put people into prison for years and years for smoking marijuana.

Oh ... on the way up I saw the sign for San Quentin. I looked right. There it is. May it burn. May the walls crumble. May the Pomo Indians rise up again, may the forests grow back and the fish return.

I'm back ...

I watched Zeitgeist again last night, on the CD that Michael and Maureen Smith gave me in Santa Cruz. It scares the shit out of me, especially that first part about religion.

The intro by George Carlin is also great.

But it's like — there is no God and shit — that is a lie, too.

Crap.

Okay, on to Chico. I'll be staying with Marylyn. I knew her back in Omaha in the days of resistance of the '80s.

seeya

— Mike
_________________

For those of you who have time, here is a piece of mine that is in Cost of Freedom.

It's from Terror Nation, Mainstay Press, 2006.

This is Charlie, who is in the mental institution in his small Iowa hometown for writing anti-Bush letters to the editor.

Here is one of his letters.

To President George W. Bush,

Sir, I cannot help but disrespect you, no matter how hard I might try not to.

I was raised to respect authority: mom and dad, teachers, the police, the President.

But that's unlikely anymore.

I am older and I cannot help but see certain things ...

Sir, I must tell you, because you do not appear to know: compassion is the most important thing, the only thing that really, really matters.

If you were truly a man of God, I would not need to inform you. And it is the poor who are most important in the world.

Wealth is a very dangerous thing to hold in one's hand. I fear it is too late for you. No, of course I must take that back. It can never be too late.

What I mean to say is that it appears you will not change, that you are
a lost soul.

And no matter who it is, that is never something I could be happy about.

Even for you.

— Charlie Johnson

_____________________

Upcoming:

www.mikepalecek.com

March 25: Chico
CSU Campus
Glenn Hall, Room 212, 6:30pm
526 Broadway 95928
(530) 893-9078

March 26: Eureka, CA
100 Fires Bookstore
www.100fires.com

COF does LA, SF, Santa Cruz

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 23:01:00 +0000

"Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug."
— Mary Chapin Carpenter

SANTA CRUZ, California — "Take me off of your mailing list you arrogant, ego tripping ass."

You'll have to say please.

"I am not a pacifist Mike. Either remove me from your email list or if/and when you come to Portland you will leave in a body cast!"

That was an email exchange from one of my admirers after the column I sent out about Homeland Security and immigration from Douglas, Arizona.

Anyway, onward, huh?

I was in Los Angeles on Friday, at Track 16 Art Gallery in Santa Monica. Four of us who are in Cost of Freedom — Elena, Thomas, Rex, me — had a discussion with about twenty people about the war, war protests.

Part of the back-and-forth was about the lack of effectiveness of what we are doing to really do much to stop the war.

It's true. From way back when I started to write "Killing George Bush" up in my room in Iowa, one of the difficulties, besides knowing how to write a novel, was what good will it do.

I dunno. I did it anyway.

For all you who sent up prayers to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost causes — driving in Los Angeles [I call it L.A.] was fine.

I was even early and found the beach at Santa Monica, the place where they filmed some movies I'm sure, and the opening to "Three's Company," remember that shit show? Well, it's got the long line of palm trees and sand and skateboards, and now it's got an imprint of my fat butt in the sand. Maybe you'll see that in some of the movies they film there from here on out. I know I'll be looking for it.

Then on to San Francisco, the Bay Area Anarchist Bookfair in the Haight district, Golden Gate Park. I missed one of the turns on my Mapquest directions and drove around Chinatown for a while.

I sat at a table with Dan Benbow and Paul Corman Roberts, who also are in Cost of Freedom.

Lots of people there. Lots of people wearing black. The young people must do that these days. Didn't sell any books, but I was able to get the need to attend book fairs out of my system, probably forever.

I got to meet Tom Edminster, who was in the Community for Creative Non-violence in D.C. back in the day, along with Mitch Snyder and others. Tom now teaches ESL at a San Francisco high school. Tom and I have been exchanging emails over the years and Tom took the time to
come over and see me while I was in town.

Also talked to Jim Fleming from Autonomedia and New York City, the one who risked his life to fight the crowds away after my reading at Bluestockings bookstore last year so I could make my escape into the night.

Afterwards Dan and his friend, Larry, and I went walking around the Mission district. We had a drink on a rooftop bar, looking out at the skyline of San Francisco.

Then we had supper, spaghetti, garlic bread, wine, prepared by Dan's girlfriend, Ariel.

Water for me, please. No drinking on this tour. No puking on church front lawns. I am waaaay too smart for that.

Larry wants to get a job in Bangkok. Dan is going next week to spend two weeks in New York City by himself, writing. Ariel is a Witch, capital "W." She is a nice Witch.

Today is Santa Cruz, at the Center for Nonviolence. I have a parking spot for my car and I see there is a movie theater close by. I might go see that show about prehistoric times, what's the name?

Tomorrow it's up to northern California for three dates.

See you there.

— Mike

Here's something on the whole immigration-terror-Ammurikan issue from Iowa Terror.

Chapter Eleven

Pinch Puta Store Detective

Que paso?

I am sitting in Gregg's Hometown Foods.

Store Detective, looking for terrorists, securing the homeland on the front lines.

As always, just trying to do my part to ensure the freedom of my fellow Americans.

I am looking for Mexicans who might be illegally alive, who do not have the proper stamp on the papers in their pocket, and thus deserve to be separated from their weeping children and sent to wherever we want to send them in a hot, crowded white INS van piloted by highly trained,
intelligent professionals with their uniformed butts smearing Ho-Ho's into the vinyl seat.

The whole thing is planned by licensed Christians in churches, in chambers, in Congress, to keep poor people and their children from having Frosted Flakes in the morning.

Because ... their crawling from zero to one might conceivably hamper us from getting from ten to eleven.

If you can see me from where you are seated you know that I am also sitting, on the floor, in the corner between the white milk and the tortillas, at the far end of the Mexican Foods Aisle.

It is my charge to find any Islamiscists, Hispanunists, or other terror-type individuals.

I am also to tackle anyone I suspect of being from Nebraska. Gregg says.

This is where I will find my insurgents.

And though I do not understand their language, I know enough to know when they are hiding something, or planning to meet with Jesus Iowa to topple the towers, collapse Casey's, dump the Dairy Queen, pillage Pizza Hut.

That jabber-jabber is all about planning with other foreign types to seek out sales on box cutters, steal leaves.

These they get here have dust and weird stickers on their shoes from walking all the way up through El Paso and shit, and Agua Prieta, Douglas, all those off-brand towns.

And they have to leave their home towns behind or maybe, probably grandma and their new puppy.

Whatever. My grandparents probably did the same thing.

I can almost taste the salsa in the jars across the aisle.

I like Mexican food. Everybody does.

I've never had any other terror-type food, expect Fred claims the sandwich came from Iraq.

That sounds like bullcrap, but I wonder if I would like Afghan pizza ... or Nebraska corn.

I am undercover, as per usual.

I am wearing a big, wide sombrero.

My head is drooping to my knees.

But I am not sleeping. Sometimes I am sleeping. Sometimes snoring. I get a beeper.

I am wearing a new, white T-shirt with blood-red letters: Pinche Puta Store Detective.

Pretty cool.

Go about your day.

I got this.

______________

Upcoming:

www.mikepalecek.com

March 23: Santa Cruz, CA
Resource Center for Non Violence, 4-6pm
515 Broadway

March 24: Fort Bragg/Mendocino
Cheshire Books
Fort Bragg Public Library Conference Room, 3pm
Highway 1

March 25: Chico
CSU Campus
Glenn Hall, Room 212, 6:30pm
526 Broadway 95928
(530) 893-9078

March 26: Eureka, CA
100 Fires Bookstore
www.100fires.com

If I can just get off of this L.A. freeway without getting killed..

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 18:03:00 +0000

You see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico, Flagstaff, Arizona. Don't forget
Winona, Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino.
— Bobby Troup, Get Your Kicks on Route 66

BARSTOW, CALIFORNIA —Hello. Spent the night in the Mojave Desert, amid the Joshua Trees, though I could not see anything, only a long, continuous line of vehicle lights headed up I-15 from Los Angeles to Las Vegas.

I drove from Tucson to Las Vegas yesterday, spent an hour in traffic getting over the Hoover Dam, trying not to pee all over my floor, then had time to enjoy rush-hour traffic in Las Vegas. I saw the exit sign for The Strip.

Then I met with the Las Vegas Drinking Liberally group at a restaurant and pub. If you ever get a chance to sit around and talk to a group of Democrats for hours and hours, I suggest you shoot yourself instead.

I got out of there, found the interstate and drove into the night, listening out my broken driver's side window for Wolfman Jack.

My radio doesn't work, so I just concentrate on worrying about every imaginable car failure. I did kind of see the Las Vegas strip out of my peripheral vision as I passed downtown. Wow. Cool. Awesome. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

I've got a new bumper sticker: This Vehicle Makes Frequent Stops For Urination.

The Tucson event on Thursday night was great. Leon Byerly just did an outstanding job of organizing.

We had about seventy people. That's more of a crowd than I had on last year's book tour combined.

I shared the microphone with a bunch of great poets: Lylvia Soto, David Ray, Nora Nickerson, Michael Rattee, Michael Gregory, and we got to see the work of artist Joe Rebhbolz, which also appeared in the book "Cost of Freedom," by Howling Dog Press.

Here's a recent review of Iowa Terror by Seth Sandronsky in the Chico News-Review.

Thank you for all the well wishes I have received on this trip. I appreciate it. And for those I have not heard from yet, just send cash.

Here is a piece of mine from "Cost of Freedom."

See ya in Los Angeles.

— Mike
________________

from "The Truth" [2003]

And I Laugh

There's a photo on the Internet that makes me laugh.

A little, brown boy holding a silent scream forever in four-color.

Ha.

The horrified little fellow now has no arms or legs, or brothers, sisters or parents, and I laugh out loud.

I laugh at the Marines, being all they could possible be in God's creation, at their tough-man commercials. The Army of One. What a hoot.

The rough-guy coaches and players who let this boy die — what comedy watching them feel strong while letting the real battles be fought by little guys with sticks and bicycles.

The boy has a bandaged head.

He looks so scared his hair might turn white, as in a Hitchcock film, and it sort of makes me chuckle.

I laugh at the ministers here in town and here on this TV saying bless our troops as they defend our freedom.

I laugh at the well-schooled and-coifed newspaper columnists with their earnest close-cropped photos in four hundred papers read by forty million people in forty million cities.

And I laugh.

The boy is flat on his back on dirty cement, with his stubs hastily wrapped in Ace bandages, surrounded by the world trying to get a look, by photographers and people on their way to work and out to dinner.

We are nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

Because this boy now has no arms. No legs.

Nothing we do today will mean a thing because we have ripped the arms and legs from this boy as if he was a fly and we are us.

The boy could be my boy, lying there at the feet of the world and the world looking the other way.

Goddamn us.

Please.

Give us what we deserve.

If you are a just God, rain down fire and hell upon our heads. Lighting bolts in our back yards and rivers of excrement down our smooth, well-scrubbed streets.

Please, dear God we pray.

When I awoke this morning, I thought it essential to the world order and being right, and a good person, that I shave, help out with the dishes, be on time, and drive on the right side of the road.

Do a good job. Be pleasant. Smile.

But now I just can't stop laughing.

The world thinks it still matters, and that's kind of funny in a way.

There, the flag flying over the Catholic elementary school and the yellow ribbons tied to the light poles on both sides of Main Street.

Stray cats wearing yellow ribbons around their necks, roaming the night, looking both ways before crossing the street, as if it mattered.

You are never so wrong as when you damage a young boy.

We sit down here like the Who's in Whoville celebrating the coming of War Season while this boy lies on the cold floor.

Tee. Hee-hee.

__________________________

Upcoming:

www.mikepalecek.com

March 21: Los Angeles, CA
Track 16 Art Center, 7pm

March 22: San Francisco, CA
Bay Area Anarchist Bookfair

March 23: Santa Cruz, CA
Resource Center for Non Violence, 4-6pm
515 Broadway

March 24: Fort Bragg/Mendocino
Cheshire Books
Fort Bragg Public Library Conference Room, 3pm
Highway 1

March 25: Chico
CSU Campus
Glenn Hall, Room 212, 6:30pm
526 Broadway 95928
(530) 893-9078
Please Check HERE for Exact Time, Date and Location

March 26: Eureka, CA
100 Fires Bookstore
www.100fires.com

Homeland Security is a joke ... on the Arizona-Mexico border

noreply@blogger.com (Whitney) — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 15:36:00 +0000

"I am, I am, I am.
"I am a patriot. And I love my country. Because my country is all I know."
— Jackson Browne, I Am A Patriot

DOUGLAS, ARIZONA — "Manuel Escandon Morales!"

"Presente!"

Tuesday I took part in a ceremony in downtown Douglas.

Local activists and visiting students from Buena Vista University in Storm Lake, Iowa, near my home town of Sheldon, Iowa, were also there on alternative spring break.

We each hold our cross in the air and the rest say "Presente!"

On the white cross I hold it says that Manuel was born Feb. 15, 1967.

He died June 26, 2002 in the desert of Cochise County, outside of Douglas.

Because he had to hide. We would not let him walk in on the sidewalk. He was a man with heart, who wanted a good life for his children, and we killed him.

We stand on the Pan American Highway, which runs from Douglas into Agua Prieta, Mexico.

When we are done the road is lined with white crosses.

The crosses run from the border patrol port of entry down the road to the intersection at the fast food restaurant.

I'm staying with Paul and Judy Plank. The rest of the year they live about a half hour from me in Iowa, in Remsen.

During the past ten winters they have been coming to Arizona. They live in the Arizona Friends Community outside of Douglas.

Each week the Planks attend the Tuesday vigils, organized by the local group Healing Our Borders. Judy is also involved in a many other local projects to help the migrants, providing work, blankets encouragement.

This is what we should all be doing.

But we are not.

We also spent $25 million for a new Border Patrol station at Douglas. There is lots of money, lots of jobs in keeping other people poor. There is all kinds of high-tech cameras and sensing devices set up all around in the desert.

We are on a tour of the area and out to look at the twelve-foot-tall fence. A border patrol agent sits in a green and white jeep.

As we leave another agent comes up for the 3 p.m. shift change — to watch the fence, in case some poor people decide to risk their lives to make a better life for their children, we will be there to make sure they go to jail.

The real terrorists are George Bush & Co. They did 911. That is whom we have to fear, not Manuel Morales.

I am for open borders.

I think, since we are a Christian nation, that we should help poor people. That's kind of what Christianity is all about. I ask Paul and Judy if anyone in their group would agree with me.

"Oh, yes!" they both say.

Paul and Judy will head back to Iowa in about three weeks, to see family and to escape rattlesnake season in the desert. Judy once had to chase one away from her porch with a broom.

I ask about the cactus, the plants, the trees, everything.

"Mesquite, Yucca."

Paul adds a note about tarantulas and scorpions.

"There's nothing warm and cuddly here," says Paul. "Everything is either hard, prickly, or poking."

On Highway 80 into Douglas I passed the "Geronimo Surrenders" monument.

I look around and realize this is where Geronimo was. He's not here anymore. We killed him.

__________________

... "but Tonto he was smarter, and one day said, Kimosabe — kiss my
ass, I bought a boat, I'm going out to sea."
— Lyle Lovett, If I Had A Boat

__________________

Judy notes that once a year they go over to Agua Prieta to "Revolution Days" where all the children dress up with mustaches and big hats to look like Pancho Villa.

Cool.

He was later killed too, by an assassin to gain a United States reward.

A few days earlier Judy went with friends to Fort Huachuca, one of the places where our military interrogators are trained, such as the ones at Abu Ghraib. The fort is also the place where the Buffalo Soldiers were stationed, the ones who slaughtered the Indians.

In the morning we watch the Winter Soldiers hearings on Democracy Now. Paul and Judy have a grandson serving in Iraq.

Everyone should have seen those hearings.

Why didn't that happen?

One former soldier states:

"This country's apathy. Our president's continued rhetoric. You are all responsible."

He then ripped up the medal General Petraeus had pinned on him.

If that were on NBC, that would be the end of the war.

Another mother and father talk about how their son came to kill himself after coming back from five months in Iraq.

Ever wonder if you're on the wrong side of the fence?

I do.

seeya

— Mike

___________________

www.mikepalecek.com

March 19: Tucson

Location: Northwest Neighborhood Center
Address:

Time: 6pm.

March 20: Las Vegas, Drinking Liberally

Location: Tenaya Creek Restaurant & Brewery
Address: 3101 Tenaya Way
Time: 630 pm.