The Last Potluck

And now, for some comic relief, thanks to my friend the wonderfully brilliant cartoonist Andy Singer.

Writer’s Rooms and Night Visions

Over at Fors Clavigera James K.A. Smith notifies us of the fascinating Guardian series of photographs of Writer’s Rooms and Night Visions.

Personally I’ve never been able to create a space of my own to read and write. I guess when I was at SSU my roommate Zach and I did have a good set up. We had what we called the “corner chair” which was located right next to our window located on the third story of Park Hall. I also had a huge oak desk that I loved and we managed to have nice lighting. Since moving to Minneapolis I do most of my work at coffee shops. Although we’ve set up a nice work area for me, I have difficultly getting stuff done there.

What about you? What does your work area look like? Are you happy with it?

Iraq: Five Years Later

All lyrics by Bruce Cockburn and images from AfterDowningStreet.org

Tell the universe what you’ve done
Out in the desert with your smoking gun
Looks like you’ve been having too much fun
Tell the universe what you’ve done

Tell the universe what you took
While the heavens trembled and the mountains shook
All those lives not worth a second look
Tell the universe what you took

You’ve been projecting your shit at the world
Self-hatred tarted up as payback time
You can self destruct-that’s your right
But keep it to yourself if you don’t mind

Tell the universe where you’ve been
With your bloodstained shoes and your dunce’s grin
Got to identify next of kin
Tell the universe where you’ve been

Everything’s broken in the birthplace of law
As Generation Two tries on his tragic flaw
America’s might under desert sun
I saw her frightened eyes behind the muzzle of her gun

Uranium dust and the smell of decay
Sewage in the street where the kids run and play
Not enough morphine and not enough gauze
Firefight in darkness like snapping of jaws
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad

You couldn’t see the blast-the morning was bright-
But some radiant energy flared up into the light
Like the sky throwing its hands up in a horrified dismay
Or the souls of the dead as they sped on their way

Carbombed and carjacked and kidnapped and shot
How do you like it, this freedom we brought
We packed all the ordnance but the thing we forgot
Was a plan in case it didn’t turn out quite like we thought
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad
This is Baghdad

L ron N ron every kind of ron con
Neocon old con got to put the brakes on
Slow down fast

Lights out veins plugged zap it with another drug
Genejacker pharma thug say hello to superbug
Slow down fast

Shills and hawkers and rockers with walkers
Bombs in the lockers and brain dead mockers
Slow down fast

One-eyed sun leering through the haze
Hordes of loveless marching while the little drummer plays
Nail in the coffin rats in the maze
Dancing arm in arm towards the looming end of days
Got to slow down

Oil wars water wars tv propaganda whores
Fire alarm met with snores no one gets what’ gone before
Slow down fast

Flagwave hammer slave gonna be a close shave
Stay brave jump the grave got to save what we can save
Slow down fast

Got to slow down fast
Slow down fast
CSIS won’t you tell me what you’ve got on me?

As I stare into the flames
filled up with feelings I can’t name
Images of life appear –
regret and anger, love and fear
Dark things drift across the screen
of mine behind whose veil are seen
love’s ferocious eyes, and clear
the words come flying to my ear
Go on — put it in your heart –
Put it in your heart
Terrible deeds done in the name
of tunnel vision and fear of change
surely are expressions of
a soul that’s turned its back on love
All the sirens all the tongues
The song of air in every lung
Heaven’s perfect alchemy
put me with you and you with me
Come on — put that in your heart
Come on, put it in your heart
All the sirens all the tongues
The song of air in every lung
Heaven’s perfect alchemy
Put me with you and you with me

Come on, put it in your heart
Come on, put it in your heart

Jesus is American

“The blood of millions of Iraqis is on your hands”

I thought this was a fantastic photograph and had to post it. Look at Condi’s face!

Silent Rain

Natasha Mayers is Common Dreams’ artist-in-residence.

Images of Iran

Owen Edwin William

Amnesty Accuses Israel of War Crimes: Photographs

Aerial view photos of the destruction of Lebanese cities. Indiscriminate bombing? Decide for yourself.

Holy!

Marcia and I went to Halifax, Nova Soctia this weekend to spend some time with dear friends. We stopped in at Craig and Anneliese’s house and had a chat about blogs. I expressed by deep frustrations with the lack of comments for the last two months on my blog and told him that I was considering shutting it down. He replied: “I’ve been reading your blog and I’ve commented and you haven’t replied to my comments.” Ah, I haven’t received any comments. And then I realized that I had been getting “junk” comments and so I had set my blog to “moderate” the comments, which means that they all need approval from me first. Well, today I searched around and what do you know? I found 18 comments! wow! Thanks for commenting! Sorry I haven’t been able to reply to any of them. Now you know why! And now I know that people have been reading it AND some people did comment on my birthday!

Thanks for reading!

Now here’s some pics of the eastern shore in Nova Scotia and pics of the baby!