Saturday, November 14, 2009

How many more must die for a lie?

Where have all the young men...and
women gone? They're dying in Afghanistan,
Iraq, and dozens of countries to maintain the
US empire that will surely collapse as all
others have since the beginning of time.

For me, it is very personal. Tears are often close
to the surface from what I saw and did during my
time in the Marines 1968-1970.

Marine Corps boot camp, and advanced infantry
training and more did not teach me one thing.

I was taught how to react to an ambush, or to set
one up, hand to hand combat etc.. But, what was not
mentioned was something that happened my very first
day in Nam (Da Nang-Christmas Day 1968).

I went into Da Nang city briefly and was warned to watch
out for the children who might steal. But, I will always
remember a lovely young girl of about 12(only because
I much later had a daughter...and could guess her age)...
she had no right eye and stood back of the children asking
for money, or food or anything. She did not have the benefit
of reconstructive and cosmetic surgery...she didn't wear
an American uniform!!!

I felt awful. I saw others who missing arms, legs...
burn marks...napalm (Nape)...begging for food...or
a young boy 12? askingif you wanted to have Boom
Boom No. 1...with their oldersister(s) or mother.

But, it is that young girl and the look she had that is
always with me...(she didn't ask for anything; I think
she felt different...not as young as the others...and marred)
Anybody who knows me knows i'm a good tipper. I
didn't have much that day (I got paid an average of
$0.50 per hour for my time in Vietnam--war is fecking
criminal!!), but I looked at her and made my way through
the crowd to give her more than i would others. (She
ripped at my heart...I could tell she wouldn't ask...i've
always wondered what became of her?

It is those things-what happened to children,
to other Marines blown to bits,(for a fucking medal),
maimed, traumatized that hurts and causes pain most
every day of my life. Those who died or were wounded
among us returned and had to fight their own government
for recognition that their wounds/conditions merited
treatment...the children of Vietnam or any country
America wages war upon...has to fend for themsleves.

Our leaders are killing generations of young whilst the
corporations profit enormously. They are fecking criminals
who deserve to be walked up to the dock with the scaffolding!



This is what a hero of mine (and most Marines) had to say about war:



http://www.fas.org/man/smedley.htm


Smedley Butler on Interventionism



-- Excerpt from a speech delivered in 1933, by Major General

Smedley Butler, USMC. War is just a racket. A racket is best

described, I believe, as something that is not what it seems to

the majority of people. Only a small inside group knows what

it is about. It is conducted for the benefit of the very few at the

expense of the masses.

I wouldn't go to war again as I have done to protect some lousy

investment of the bankers. There are only two things we should

fight for. One is the defense of our homes and the other is the Bill

of Rights. War for any other reason is simply a racket.

There isn't a trick in the racketeering bag that the military gang is

blind to. It has its "finger men" to point out enemies, its "muscle

men" to destroy enemies, its "brain men" to plan war preparations,

and a "Big Boss" Super-Nationalistic-Capitalism.

It may seem odd for me, a military man to adopt such a comparison.

Truthfulness compels me to. I spent thirty- three years and four

months in active military service as a member of this country's most

agile military force, the Marine Corps. I served in all commissioned

ranks from Second Lieutenant to Major-General. And during that period,

I spent most of my time being a high class muscle- man for Big Business,

for Wall Street and for the Bankers.. In short, I was a racketeer, a gangster

for capitalism.

I suspected I was just part of a racket at the time. Now I am sure of it.

Like all the members of the military profession, I never had a thought

of my own until I left the service. My mental faculties remained in

suspended animation while I obeyed the orders of higher-ups. This

is typical with everyone in the military service.

I helped make Mexico , especially Tampico , safe for American oil interests

in 1914. I helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank

boys to collect revenues in. I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American

republics for the benefits of Wall Street. The record of racketeering is long. I helped

purify Nicaragua for the international banking house of Brown Brothers in 1909-1912

(where have I heard that name before?). I brought light to the Dominican Republic for

American sugar interests in 1916. In China I helped to see to it that Standard Oil went

its way unmolested.

During those years, I had, as the boys in the back room would say, a swell racket.

Looking back on it, I feel that I could have given Al Capone a few hints. The best

he could do was to operate his racket in three districts. I operated on three continents.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Moving to Ireland and Some Irish Wisdom

I spent nine years in Cork,Ireland.
That meant taking a strong and distinct
Boston accent and grinding and merging
it with a Cork accent...'what the F?

There were times after I first moved there
that I thought...this sure as hell aint English;-)
But, at least it's not a Glasgow accent

Our family had moved from a lovely
place-Jeffersonville/Cambridge, Vermont...
just trees, dirt roads, deer,moose,bears, cows, sheep
...and even more when you got off the highway;-)

I went to Ireland with my children in June, 1997
and my wife(divorced now) followed in September
after assisting with sending over belongings etc.

Being a Marine grunt(rifleman, or if you prefer...
'bullet stopper') in the Viet Nam War i knew,
instinctively how to orient myself(no, like most
Marines I was lost with a feckin compass-just instinct).
We first moved to a place at the corner of Rutland
and Douglas Street.

To help give a sense of direction of our location
relative to city centre to our children, Kyle, 15
and Nora, 12 (at the time)...and not get lost... I
told them that if they were confused to just follow the
puke marks on the sidewalk any Friday, Saturday or
Sunday morning;-)

What I didn't/don't like about the city, or any city
after living in the country for 10 years...was that I
always had to find an 'appropriate place' to piss:-)...as
i will when i log off.

In Vermont I just had to walk into the tree line, or behind
a big tree...like in Viet Nam. Sometimes, I want/or try to
cheat on the 'appropriate place thing';-) It's in my nature
to go against the grain...stretch the rules...'if you don't get
caught you didn't do anything' as a Marine buddy once
said:-) But, in the Marines I also knew that even if caught...
deny, deny, deny...it was me...and it was like i didn't get
caught;-)

I almost got caught when studying law at UCC, but I sure
as hell didn't want to explain myself to the Dean...CF(much
less be seen doing it...but believe me I would come up with an
inventive story...like 'I wasn't doing that. Oh no, not me...
I was just adjusting my zipper...hadn't know it was open...
till someone just pointed it out and I was '). No cheating!
Damn...hey dogs can!!!

There was a spot behind the law faculty building with
a dumpster of some sort, and some small brush and a
tree or two. I always wanted to do it there...just because
it was there...and to get away with it....there's an 'imp'
inside me;-) And, i'm good at watching all around me...the
buildings, their windows, passing people, and anyone unexpected.
It's the game.

Most of the people I grew up with in the States were either
Irish, or Italian-American...mostly Irish-American and there
was a similarity to the humour. Also surviving Viet Nam and
being a Marine...the humour gets a little twisted.

And being mostly Irish(3/4)...alcohol was used to celebrate
every event in life. Hey, you didn't even need an event...why
if you felt happy, or sad...that was reason enough:-) I remember
being at the graveyard after my (maternal) grandfather died
(from Spiddal). The priest was droning on about whatever, and
I heard my uncle Bill (a Boston cop-and great guy) whisper to his
son...'Is the beer on ice'?... you're sure...is it cold enough?...etc and
something about did he buy the extra case(s)'?

Serious drinkers like my relatives like to toast each other,
but even as a boy I knew that they watched each other's
consumption...they didn't want their generosity being taken
abused;-) they wanted more for themselves. Blood may be
thicker than water...but it's a terrible mixer for drinks;-))

I always like events(picnics, barbecues etc) because you
could be sure that my uncles would have many beer bottles
and glasses half full on tables...and at some point they would
go to the bathroom, and that's how I got my beer for years:-)
...aged 5-6 to 12 or so.

My father was a Marine Corps veteran of WWII, and saw
things that haunted him till his end...I know what that can be like,
but I was in combat much less...but there was 'night terror'-
Sapper attacks in the A Shau valley (the valley of death) on
LZ (or Fire Support Base [FSB])Cunningham.

As my father's drinking problem grew into alcoholism I
wasn't like other kids. I had to be sharper. My dad used to
smell my breath when I came home on a weekend night.
So, I had to drink during the day if I wanted to...you know,
schooldays.

In the winter I hid my nips(baby bottles-Irish) in the snowbank
behind the local supermarket. It wouldn't freeze, but I was caught
drinking a nip of Chivas Regal by my chemistry teacher. All he
actually said was 'Mr. Meuse, I can't see that'. I understood that,
but that was it. If it wasn't for my dealing the weekly football cards
(illegal gambling)...to some teachers(hey, it sure helps when you don't
have a fecking clue about math or chemistry!!)...he might have
sent me to the principal:-)

I will to the end of days owe a certain Dave O'C an apology.
We were studying for an Administrative law exam as part of
our L.L.B. Dave studied.

I didn't really know how to study. I studied at the Cork city
library because I could look out the window at the women...or
anything that would distract me from studying...god it's
boring...and probably having PTSD affects concentration.

So when really bored I think of things. And, I do remember
my drill instructor (DI) at Parris Island, Marine Corps Recruit
Depot saying that it was dangerous for us to think, and we had
to have permission to do so(combat, an exception)... so I text
Dave to ask if he got the message yet from our teacher DGM...
that due to family or other circummstances the exams had
to be rescheduled-set back two weeks.

Who wouldn't think that it was great news??? And, it
felt great giving someone good news. Doesn't it??

I try not to lie, so when dave text back to ask if it was
true...i said he may not have gotten the notice yet.
Dave gave himself a two day holiday so to speak(from
the books). It made me feel good to make someone else
feel good:-))

I, however, was still studying, because for me, 8 hours in
the library meant looking at ass(of course, I mean the donkeys
walking by on market day...I hope you didn't think???...God, no,
I'm Catholic;-) for several hours....playing other pranks and coming
out with 2-3 hours total.

Once I saw a local politician put the handicap sign in the window
of his car, and called the Evening Echo. I thought that it was was
great!! Hey it was a distraction, but they did nothing...anything
but study.

Two days later I got a text from Dave that said something
about me being some kind of a 'fecker'?..and 'that sh-t wasn't
funny'. I wasn't sure which thing he meant because he wasn't
the only one:-) well...i did I guess.

I also liked to call people's (Dave's et al) cell phone whilst
in class to watch them scramble. I'm a bad student. I like fun.

For me, growing up in an alcoholic family, school was an escape
and a place to fool around.

In Catholic primary school outside of Boston(I had an 8
year sentence as we used to say) once the nuns had a meeting
with my parents and told them that they didn't know if
I was smart, dumb or what because when I was in class
I just fooled around, looked out the window(daydreaming...
cuz the sh-t was boring), didn't complete many assignments
...but barely passed.

But i believed in further education and did try to obtain
materials beyond the classroom that helped my
understanding of the subject.

When a priest was sent to teach us the 'Facts of Life' in the
8th grade...I sat at the back of the class and had my own
educational materials to explain what he was saying. Then,
the nun (who I think was listening too from the cloak room)
opened the door next to me, pulled my ear,(and me out of
my seat and into the cloak room with her and the priest...Oh Oh)
and took the Playboy magazine from me(Thank God it wasn't
'Hustler'...this had Real articles;-) and scolded me;-) The priest
was more forgiving, and he just said that he would have to take it.
(I always wondered if that magazine was added to a secret collection
for new priests...you know...like one might say to a new one 'This is
vintage 1963).

It wasn't mine, and I wouldn't offer up any names:-) Name, rank
and serial number...that's all. 'I said I just found it in my desk and
didn't know how it got there. Smack. same answer, and an 'honest'
for good measure. Smack, smack. They weren't going to call my father...
they knew he was a drinker...and I had looked all over the house to
no avail. Alcoholism and Catholic school were good preparation for
Marine Corps boot camp.

So as I've shot myself a bit in the foot...I leave the reader with some
nice quotes by Irish writers and wits.

“I saw a notice which said, 'Drink Canada Dry' and I've just started.”
Brendan Behan

Notice on a Cork building site:'The shovels haven't arrived, and until
they do, you'll have to lean on each other'. (I love this one)

''When you wet the bed, first it is warm then it gets cold''. James Joyce
('Portrait of the artist as a Young Man' p.1).

Being Irish, I have an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains me
through temporary periods of joy.W.B. Yeats (brilliant)

My way of joking is to tell the truth. it's the funniest joke in the world."
George Bernard Shaw.

He knows nothing; and he thinks he knows
everything. That points clearly to a political career.
George Bernard Shaw

Bigamy is having one wife too many.
Marriage is the same.Oscar Wilde

That's the Irish people all over - they treat a joke
as a serious thing, and a serious thing as a joke.
Sean O'Casey

And God said, 'Let there be light' and there was light,
but the Electricity Board said He would have to wait
until Thursday to be connected.Spike Milligan

Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior
to all other countries because you were born in it.
George Bernard Shaw.

Again, sorry Dave. seriously:-)

And Owen, I it was me who called your boss from the
Library and told him to check your breathe and eyes cuz
I saw you walking into the park on your break to get stoned:-)
he-Hassan just laughed...uncooperative.

Monday, November 9, 2009

The Ft. Hood shootings: What really happened?

I learned not to trust my government as a young
man.

So, I ask myself how did one or even two men
walk into a center with over 100 combat veterans
and begin shooting and not be stopped by men
who would, in combat jump on a hand grenade
to prevent others from being killed.

Now, we hear that there was another shooter.

It is also not routine that outside security
guards would be inside the building.

This is what SFC Donald Buswell had to say to CLG:

CLG Exclusive: SFC Donald Buswell (R), who spent ten years at Fort Hood, comments: I spent 10 yrs at Ft Hood. There is no way this 'official' story is legitimate. No way would a room full of Combat vets allow this one shooter to get off over 100 rds! And, it is not normal for the outside security guards to be there. They are at the MP station, and at the main gates. This means the room full of soldiers processing must have ... Read Morebeen pinned down; multiple shooters is the only plausible scenario. This story stinks to high heaven, this sounds like MAJ Hassan has been used, and perhaps is a patsy. --SFC Donald Buswell (R)

see at: http://www.legitgov.org/attack_on_fort_hood_051109.html

just thinking....

Friday, November 6, 2009

I Support War Resisters; do you?

For those who have not heard
the Wars of Terror launched by
the rogue elements of the United States
intelligence-military black ops etc in the
deliberate 'False Flag attacks on 9/11 just
claimed 11 more lives.

I am referring to the killing of 11 soldiers and
wounding of 31 more at Fort Hood, Texas. Army
Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan, an army psychiatrist walked
into base Soldier Readiness Center (SRS). This is where
soldiers who are to deploy to war zones or are returning
for medical screening.

Like death in war or any tragic death it is hard to make
sense of, and one can only be a lifetime of grief for those
left behind.

But, above all it is a call for mass resistance.
These wars will end when the soldiers refuse to
engage in combat, and some will start
turning their guns on their officers. That's what
stopped the Viet Nam War.

To me, what our military and civilian leaders are doing to
a generation of men and women is absolutely criminal.
Afraid to initiate a draft for an unpopular war our leaders
keep sending these men and women back for repeated
tours in Afghanistan and Iraq.

When there is a surge...there is also a surge in
the children of military personnel seeking mental
health help. Divorce rates for those in the war shoot
off the charts.

And the mental trauma is always there.

If these wars are so noble then why are no Bush family
members rushing to enlist?

Why do most politicians children escape this too?

It is not just time for resistance but rebellion. Our
leaders are traitors and work for the financial interest
who actually own America.

For me war in Viet Nam means listening to the screams
of men in the daark as they are being knifed to death...
and then being exploded(sappers)...and then having to
clean up their remains the next morning.

Stop this war and hold those criminals accountable.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Right From Jump Street

Right From Jump Street is the
title name that I used for my opinion/
commentary articles as a co-editor of
Lookout newspaper circa 1973-76(or 77)
at Boston State College(BSC). We were a
'Collective' :-)

BSC was a college and primarily for working
class students...no dorms...just commute.

In addition, after National Guard troops opened
fire on Kent State(Ohio) students (killing four and
wounding nine) who were protesting the invasion of
Cambodia BSC had a noble distinction of being one of
only four (4) colleges and universities in America to
vote to expel the Reserve Officers' Training Corps(ROTC)
from the campus.

But, it was only the fall of 1973 that the student newspaper
'Outlook' finally caame out against the Viet Nam war...1973!!!

It was promptly closed and we Mark, Bonnie, Jim, Leslie, Lou, Tom,
Chuck(Charlene), Neil(photographer)Debbie,and a revolving cast of
characters like myself (who called themsleves either revolutionaries
or radicals) joined together with John a former editor of 'Outlook' to
form 'Lookout' a new campus newspaper. We are indebted to Tom's desire
to get a newspaper out, and he was big enough to put that concern above
political differences.

The school immediately threatened us with expulsion for passing out
an 'unsanctioned' newspaper. John and I (I think-definitely John)
went to the ACLU, and the school backed off...and we had a good
run printing an anti-imperialist paper(much to the horror of the
administration that had closed the other paper. We had great
graphics from Liberation News Service (LNS)...
and put our own mark all over that paper.

No computers...type writers and the layout was done by hand.
I wasn't the best at that.

BSC was a good ground for anti-war, anti-Apartheid and other
protests. It made going to school a pleasure for this ex-marine
looking to get involved.

Many have never heard of another massacre of students
'The Jackson State killings' that occurred on the campus of
Jackson State College, Jackson, Mississippi. JSC was primarily
an African American college and the city and state police fired
upon unarmed students protesting the war and racial discrimination
and harassment killing two(2) and wounding twelve(12).
This received less coverage than the Kent State shootings.

At the time of the Kent State shootings I had one week (exactly 7 days)
left in the Marine Corps...and many, many of us were not going to obey
any orders to deploy on the streets of Washington D. C. or anywhere!

Right From Jump Street;-)

Monday, November 2, 2009

Random thought...Dick Cheney and Waterboarding

Since Dick Cheney keeps insisting that 'Waterboarding'
is not torture...and praises it as a '"well done" technique '

(http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/2009/06/01/2009-06-01_dick_cheney_a_strong_believer_in_waterboarding.html)

am I the only one who wonders what information
he would spit out about his role in the 9/11
False Flag attacks if he were subject to the
technique??

just a random thought;-)

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Thought of the Day 1 Nov. 2009

Feck off! Think of your own...haven't you got anything beter to do? ;-)