Below I will be collecting links to what I regard as the best news and blog coverage about Occupy Wall Street and other such occupations. This post will be updated as I come across new articles and resources that stand out to me.
If you're interested in canvassing to support our joint occupation of the United States, there are some slick looking printable flyers here at Occupy Together.
News, Media Organizations, and Commercial Blogs:
The Awl
The Livestream Ended: How I Got Off My Computer And Onto The Street At Occupy Oakland
Boston Review
Why I was maced at the Wall Street Protests
Business Insider
CHARTS: Here's What The Wall Street Protesters Are So Angry About...
CBS
A spark lit in Tunisia ignites the world
Dangerous Minds
Lemony Snicket's 13 Observations About Occupy Wall Street
The Guardian
Occupy Wall Street Rediscovers the Radical Imagination
Occupy Wall Street: 'Pepper-spray officer named in Bush protest claim
The Interdependence Project
5 real-life lessons in meditation from Occupy Wall Street
MSNBC
Rewrite: police vs. protesters (video and blog post)
The New York Times
As Scorn for Vote Grows, Protests Surge Around Globe
New York Times Blogs
Paul Krugman: Unsavvy People
Reuters
Don't dismiss the Wall Street Occupation
Independent Bloggers:
El Baghdadi
Top 10 Parallels Between #OccupyWallStreet & Arab Spring Revolutions
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
how you can help #occupywallstreet
Are you following the ongoing Occupy Wall Street protest? If not, check it out. If you're sympathetic, take a look at these Adbusters suggestions on how we can all help out, regardless of how far away we may be.
Mainstream media outlets were fairly quiet on the protest before today, when a large number of protesters were arrested. It's too bad that the media only pays close attention when scenes like that occur. I've been watching since the beginning of the protest and--while I always have my quibbles with the manipulative antics of some of the professional activists involved in matters like these--I support the movement and the ideas behind it without reserve.
Corporate interests are steering this country and the interests of the common people have taken a backseat. That's unacceptable.
Notes
November 3 - I'm currently uncomfortable with pretty much all preexisting organizations that support the Occupy movement, including Adbusters. I still support the movement itself, but I would really urge fellow supporters to act according to their own convictions and be cautious of the potential for manipulation.
November 19 - Glenn Greenwald's column today is something we should all read: Here's what attempted co-option of OWS looks like
June 20 - My former enthusiasm for this movement looks naive as fuck to me now. As does my former optimism regarding the potential endgame. Oh, well. That's life, I guess. I'm still not sure why the most effective of the available tools and blueprints for this sort of thing weren't very much taken advantage of during the heyday of OWS. It's not like any of it was a secret, how best to strategize and implement a movement of this kind. Our own government developed most of these strategies itself for use abroad. Many of the manuals and tactical breakdowns are even available online without charge. But here, things fizzled out. I could speculate as to why... and I do have some decently sound ideas... but it's still just speculation (i.e., pretty worthless to publish, at least in this context).
Sunday, September 4, 2011
be greeted, psychoneurotics!
Came across this gem in the early summer and forgot to post it! Here it is now.
Be Greeted, Psychoneurotics!
a poem by Kazimierz Dabrowski
Be Greeted, Psychoneurotics!
a poem by Kazimierz Dabrowski
Be greeted, psychoneurotics!
For you see sensitivity in the insensitivity of the world,
uncertainty among the world's certainties.
For you often feel others as you feel yourselves.
For you feel the anxiety of the world, and
its bottomless narrowness and self-assurance.
For your phobia of washing your hands from the dirt of the world,
for your fear of being locked in the world's limitations,
for your fear of the absurdity of existence.
For your subtlety in not telling others what you see in them.
For your awkwardness in dealing with practical things, and
for your practicalness in dealing with unknown things,
for your transcendental realism and lack of everyday realism,
for your creativity and ecstasy,
for your maladjustment to that "which is" and
adjustment to that which "ought to be",
for your great but unutilized abilities.
For the belated appreciation of the real value of your greatness
which never allows the appreciation of the greatness
of those who will come after you.
For your being treated instead of treating others,
for your heavenly power being forever pushed down
by brutal force;
for that which is prescient, unsaid, infinite in you.
For the loneliness and strangeness of your ways.
Be greeted!
---
If you're not familiar with Dabrowski and his work, treat yourself to a little internet stroll--I recommend it especially highly if you're somewhat aspergian, "gifted"*, or otherwise unusually sensitive (Myers-Briggs INXXs represent).
Good places to start:
Dabrowski's Theory of Positive Disintegration
Dabrowski's Overexcitabilities
---
* i.e., high IQ w/ asynchronous development
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
justice, solidarity, participation
via Dean's Corner and the Utoya AUF website
Curious about the political beliefs of the campers who were massacred in Norway this week?
In other words, these brave young people are what the world currently likes to eat for dinner.
Can we change that, please?
Curious about the political beliefs of the campers who were massacred in Norway this week?
Our core values are:
Freedom for all people.
Justice in a society where everyone has equal opportunities.
Solidarity in a society where people take responsibility for each other.
Participation in a society where everyone is involved in creating the future.
Respect for nature and a society in harmony with nature's carrying capacity.
In other words, these brave young people are what the world currently likes to eat for dinner.
Can we change that, please?
Sunday, July 24, 2011
in praise of so-called brats and their parents
Last Thursday my littlest son screeched at me in the grocery store for the very first time.
We were over in the bulk foods section. He'd just found out that he wouldn't be able to have a cookie as soon as he'd hoped, since the little sack of goodies we'd picked out would need to be weighed up at the checkout stand. He's two and a half years old. He took a deep breath, turned a funny shade of purple, opened his mouth and...
^_~
(It was possibly the loudest, most piercing scream I've ever heard in a grocery store.)
I was a bit taken aback, of course. And the angry stares of passers-by didn't help matters. Ouch. Just trying to do something nice for my kid and suddenly I'm getting looked at like I'm a miscreant.
But you know what else?
I was also very happy.
Why?
Because my baby isn't afraid of me. He's not in the slightest bit hesitant to tell everybody what he wants or how he feels.
To him, this was a seriously dire situation. (No cookies when I want them?! Even though I am very tired and it feels like it should be lunchtime and we have been out of the house for much longer than usual?! I need my mommy to hug me, STAT!) So I pulled the cart over out of the way and I picked him up and snuggled and rocked him... and that was all he really needed.
I hope he keeps that spark. I hope he always knows that, no matter what, his feelings are legitimate. I hope he always has someone who he knows will listen to him without judgment and try to help him feel better. I hope he always insists on being heard, never shushed.
I mean... yeah, of course I hope he also learns to reel in the intensity a tad and watch out for other people's needs, too. And I'll do my best in the future to avoid recreating the precursors that led to that awful scream (too many errands on a day when he hadn't slept well, buying treats that require weighing when I already knew he's not too keen on delayed gratification).
But, still, I'm glad that he's comfortable enough to be spunky. I'm happy he insists on help when he needs it. And I'm relieved that he has faith in me to provide that comfort and help.
It's not about the cookie. It's never about the cookie.
It's about "Mommy, Daddy... I hurt. Do you love me? Are you there for me?"
Yes. I do. I am.
Every day.
<3
---
We were over in the bulk foods section. He'd just found out that he wouldn't be able to have a cookie as soon as he'd hoped, since the little sack of goodies we'd picked out would need to be weighed up at the checkout stand. He's two and a half years old. He took a deep breath, turned a funny shade of purple, opened his mouth and...
^_~
(It was possibly the loudest, most piercing scream I've ever heard in a grocery store.)
I was a bit taken aback, of course. And the angry stares of passers-by didn't help matters. Ouch. Just trying to do something nice for my kid and suddenly I'm getting looked at like I'm a miscreant.
But you know what else?
I was also very happy.
Why?
Because my baby isn't afraid of me. He's not in the slightest bit hesitant to tell everybody what he wants or how he feels.
To him, this was a seriously dire situation. (No cookies when I want them?! Even though I am very tired and it feels like it should be lunchtime and we have been out of the house for much longer than usual?! I need my mommy to hug me, STAT!) So I pulled the cart over out of the way and I picked him up and snuggled and rocked him... and that was all he really needed.
I hope he keeps that spark. I hope he always knows that, no matter what, his feelings are legitimate. I hope he always has someone who he knows will listen to him without judgment and try to help him feel better. I hope he always insists on being heard, never shushed.
I mean... yeah, of course I hope he also learns to reel in the intensity a tad and watch out for other people's needs, too. And I'll do my best in the future to avoid recreating the precursors that led to that awful scream (too many errands on a day when he hadn't slept well, buying treats that require weighing when I already knew he's not too keen on delayed gratification).
But, still, I'm glad that he's comfortable enough to be spunky. I'm happy he insists on help when he needs it. And I'm relieved that he has faith in me to provide that comfort and help.
It's not about the cookie. It's never about the cookie.
It's about "Mommy, Daddy... I hurt. Do you love me? Are you there for me?"
Yes. I do. I am.
Every day.
<3
---
I'm aware, btw, that screaming in the store is hardly a reliable indicator that a child feels comfortable and well taken care of.
In my experience, some better (but not perfect) indicators of a good home environment and strong, healthy attachment would be: 1) the child's tantrum/complaint is focused on a specific, immediate stressor or desired outcome, 2) the caretaker responds immediately and with compassion, and 3) the child is easily consoled by a caretaker's expression of empathy.
Children who have been through a lot of crap, on the other hand, tend to be in the habit of either shutting down and rarely protesting much of anything no matter how stressed (this is the outcome that authoritarian parenting is meant to bring about) ...or else they are bubbling over with noise and nervous energy, expressing discontent in a frenetic, unfocused, and generally inconsolable way. In the latter case, parental response in the moment can be shitty or stellar and--insofar as the immediate outcome is concerned--it doesn't make a bit of difference, because the child's wounds are not confined to the present moment and no amount of empathy over the cookie is going to make up for the real, underlying issue instantaneously.
Also--yes, I appear to be tooting my own horn a bit here. I'm admittedly proud of how hard I have worked at becoming a better parent. The audacity, right? ^_^
Sunday, July 17, 2011
why I kind of hate it when people ask about my time living abroad
All you need to know about my "Other Country" is that it's like every poor country out there. And a little bit like the rich ones, too.
The US consulate warns you that robbery and rape are endemic. The unemployment rate is several times higher than the highest number that the governing officials are willing to report to the outside world. You will come closer to freshly murdered corpses than you've ever come before. Trash litters the roads and streams. Some first world nation will come in and try to strip mine the fuck out of some impoverished backwater province, while old men chain themselves across the road and stare at the oncoming trucks. Graffiti depicts Uncle Sam as the grim reaper; he has a scythe and a star-spangled hat.
Jobless city men strut and swagger and hit. Sometimes with fists, sometimes with bullets. Young country women tie their babies to the kitchen table and leave them there while they go out and work the fields. People sing and dance and drink as if their lives depended on it. The citizens are absurdly patriotic. And they believe in God--often the God of Abraham and Isaac--but God's clearly not powerful enough to fix anything of consequence, so--for good measure--they send up their prayers on superstitious wings of fairydust, colored smoke, and voodoo magic.
And you know what else?
Fuck you.
Fuck you for needing me to come back and tell you that all I saw were hard-working farmers with fat, rosy-cheeked, adorable black-eyed babies.
Fuck you and your gaily painted houses and your quaint, cobblestoned remnants of colonialism.
Fuck your edgy, uber-privileged hipster spring break, combing through the markets for funny t-shirts exported from America, keepin' it real, eating a fresh mango on a pier, banging the sons and daughters of local lawyers who troll the posh bars you think are very fucking rustic.
I saw your long-suffering-but-cheerful farmers. I went to the folk dances and the ancient rituals and the fundamentalist revivals. I dipped traditional flatbread in traditional sauces cooked in traditional stoneware over traditional fire pits. I saw those people you call "inspiring"--you know, the ones who pick up the shambles of their fucked up lives and try to make the best of things, just like everybody else who ever lived.
And I saw dead babies. Abandoned babies. Drug babies. Mutilated babies. Babies with AIDS. Babies shot in the back. Sex slaves with missing teeth. Seamstresses afraid to go back to the clothing factories because their coworkers keep ending up raped and headless in the ditches out back. A gang shooting. An eight year old trying to sweet-talk an old woman out of her wallet and then kicking her in the shin when it didn't go over well. Another eight year old mugged for his mother's grocery money. I saw drug lords rolling by in their dark cars with dark windows, and I saw young men hide and cry in despair at being unable to deliver whatever it was those drug lords wanted. I saw faithful people throw their last coins in the collection bag at church. I saw a bus driver say "fuck this shit" and overturn a load of innocent passengers down a mountainside. I saw people running orphanages for the sole purpose of siphoning off donations to use on hookers and cars, handing off the kids to child molesters and not giving a rip. I saw swindling and beatings and flat, dead apathy. I had the shit beaten out of me by a man who had ghosts in his eyes.
And I saw people fighting back, spinning tales of hope and growth and revelation. Good on them, I guess. I can't spin very well. Not for very long. They keep trying to teach me and it never sticks.
But you don't really want to know about any of that, do you?
You want to know if the pork buns were good.
Best fucking pork buns I ever had.
Friday, July 15, 2011
we're human
(03:10:32 PM) bradass87: at first glance… it was just a bunch of guys getting shot up by a helicopter… no big deal… about two dozen more where that came from right… but something struck me as odd with the van thing… and also the fact it was being stored in a JAG officer’s directory… so i looked into it… eventually tracked down the date, and then the exact GPS co-ord… and i was like… ok, so thats what happened… cool… then i went to the regular internet… and it was still on my mind… so i typed into goog… the date, and the location… and then i see this http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/13/world/middleeast/13iraq.html
(03:11:07 PM) bradass87: i kept that in my mind for weeks… probably a month and a half… before i forwarded it to them
(03:13:31 PM) bradass87: it was unreal… i mean, i’ve identified bodies before… its rare to do so, but usually its just some nobody
(03:17:27 PM) bradass87: http://www.kxol.com.au/images/pale_blue_dot.jpg <– sums it up for me
(03:18:17 PM) bradass87: i probably shouldn’t have read sagan, feynman, and so many intellectual authors last summer…
(03:24:10 PM) bradass87: we’re human… and we’re killing ourselves… and no-one seems to see that… and it bothers me
(03:29:31 PM) bradass87: http://vimeo.com/5081720 Elie Wiesel summed it up pretty well for me… though his story is much much more important that mine
(03:35:44 PM) bradass87: i think ive been traumatized too much by reality, to care about consequences of shattering the fantasy
---
Can I light a candle in solidarity without committing treason?
Can I light a candle in solidarity without committing treason?
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Links - July 13, 2011
 |
| What does phoenix wright down do? |
Radiolab presents: Symmetry
"This striking Radiolab video made by Everynone was inspired by Radiolab's Desperately Seeking Symmetry episode. Filmmakers Will Hoffman, Daniel Mercadante, and Julius Metoyer III play with our yearning for balance, and reveal how beautiful imperfect matches can be."SMBC: In the Future, Everything is Games
"WOOH! Headshot!"The Great Wall of Vagina
"One is able to stare without shame but in wonder and amazement at this exposé of human variety. For the first time for many women they will be able to see their own genitals in relation to other women's. In doing so they may dispel many misconceptions they may have been carrying about what women look like 'down there'. The sculpture is serene and intricate and it works on many levels."
Check out the interviews with the artist, too. I admire the way he answered when asked about his own sexual preferences. I agree with him 100%.Consciously Parenting: Phoenix Rising from the Ashes
"The first time I ever heard about the Phoenix rising from the ashes was in reading the Harry Potter series. I was captivated by the idea that out of something that seemed horrible and final was the potential for a rebirth and renewal. I realized that some of the experiences in my life that have seemed the darkest have given me the opportunity to rise up anew and embrace life in a deeper way. Death by fire isn't pleasant, but it has a way of distilling everything down to its elements in a way nothing else could."Dear Sugar: The Obliterated Place
"You have the power to withstand this sorrow. We all do, though we all claim not to. We say, “I couldn’t go on,” instead of saying we hope we won’t have to. That’s what you’re saying in your letter to me, Living Dead Dad. You’ve made it so fucking long without your sweet boy and now you can’t take it anymore. But you can. You must."
this week's oft-repeated song
You know the one. The song you just play over and over? This is mine, this week.
Nobody seems to know the official lyrics, so the lyrics below are just my best guess/compromise based on other people's varied interpretations.
The lyrics seem sad, written out like that.
I don't take the song as a sad song, though. When I listen to it, I feel excited and hopeful for the future.
I've had my ear to the earth for the past few years, just listening. It was simply my time to be quiet, to stop production and just "go to the mountain" so to speak.
So much of what I heard was frightening. I have sometimes been very sick with that fear. And other times, sicker still.
Then something started to change. I heard something else, underneath all that raucous, selfish tantruming. A different sort of sound entirely.
I feel like--maybe, just maybe-- we're approaching the crescendo of some kind of quiet, worldwide metamorphosis. There is an increasing refusal to be content with shallow explanations for everything. More and more people are catching a glimpse of the strands that intertwine all over the place, forming webs of cause and effect more complex than any of our outdated religious or behavioral systems could account for (and I mean nothing mystical here, not in the slightest). Not everybody is feeling it. But some are... and I believe that this mild, patient, haunted minority is right now shaping the future of humanity into something more beautiful than it otherwise would have been.
The collective mind of our planet's most observant beings has decided to fight. Not with bombs and swords, but with the expression of our new values, through our art, our words, our deeds. Through these avenues, we will lead the way. And we will steer this ship with such a light hand, the partygoers deep within its hull will hardly notice the change of direction. It has already begun.
Or maybe it's just my own private transition I am witnessing, and nothing so big as all that.
Either way, that's ok. I'm ready now.
Nobody seems to know the official lyrics, so the lyrics below are just my best guess/compromise based on other people's varied interpretations.
Use your intuition
It's all you've got
Keys are rare
And there's a dozen locks
Standing in your way
So goes the gold age
Of your tired life
Digging for a way
You cast a spell
Carve a path from all the things they sell
But they don't let go
Just thought you should know
Keys are rare
I know what I know
Would not fill a thimble
So let your mind go (let my mind go)
Straight down the runway
Does one want to
Get more used to
The mall and misery? (the mall and the misery)
The debt mounts
It costs to be alive
Oh she lies half burning
From the biting cold
If only to learn
What you've never been told
There's a real world
And somewhere a good girl
Lives and breathes
Part of her up in the callow mind
Ideas stolen in the morning tide
There's a dark time
This is your dark rhyme
Feel your heart
I know what I know
Would not fill a thimble
So let your mind go (let my mind go)
Straight down the runway
Does one want to
Get more used to
The mall and misery? (the mall and the misery)
The dead mouths
It costs to be alive
-----
I don't take the song as a sad song, though. When I listen to it, I feel excited and hopeful for the future.
I've had my ear to the earth for the past few years, just listening. It was simply my time to be quiet, to stop production and just "go to the mountain" so to speak.
So much of what I heard was frightening. I have sometimes been very sick with that fear. And other times, sicker still.
Then something started to change. I heard something else, underneath all that raucous, selfish tantruming. A different sort of sound entirely.
I feel like--maybe, just maybe-- we're approaching the crescendo of some kind of quiet, worldwide metamorphosis. There is an increasing refusal to be content with shallow explanations for everything. More and more people are catching a glimpse of the strands that intertwine all over the place, forming webs of cause and effect more complex than any of our outdated religious or behavioral systems could account for (and I mean nothing mystical here, not in the slightest). Not everybody is feeling it. But some are... and I believe that this mild, patient, haunted minority is right now shaping the future of humanity into something more beautiful than it otherwise would have been.
The collective mind of our planet's most observant beings has decided to fight. Not with bombs and swords, but with the expression of our new values, through our art, our words, our deeds. Through these avenues, we will lead the way. And we will steer this ship with such a light hand, the partygoers deep within its hull will hardly notice the change of direction. It has already begun.
Or maybe it's just my own private transition I am witnessing, and nothing so big as all that.
Either way, that's ok. I'm ready now.
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