FREE HUMANITY loves WIKILEAKS: transboundary movement of hazardous waste
FREE HUMANITY loves WIKILEAKS
los angeles graphic arts
contra police brutality
or wars
i read: camaroon made punishable by death, the import of hazardous waste.
as hazardous waste disposal in Africa, europe's garbage can, was both cheap for Europe, and Lucrative for de-monetized Africa.
now how this ties into the world bank and the IMF, don't you wonder.
i read this from my beautiful international law and environmental policy book, gagging at every word.
and what was proclaimed via wikileaks, and the spokesmanship of Julian Assange, regarding the Guardian's gagging, regarding the toxics dumped in Ivory Coast, at least was a commonplace nightmare.
and then, it was this story, that so firmly gripped me, and prejudiced me against the Superinjunction Wonderland, that is Great Britain, United Kingdom, where all sorts of fictitious stories pass for news, and actual events of corporate ecological atrocity, are kept from the wilting public and their pints.
the myth of
limitless growth and de beers diamonds, and fur, and travel, remind me, how i loathe i am to view the new york times, with its lies about libya, its purple prose, about bourgeois living, and its fictitious Weapons of Mass Destruction.
as now NYT seems to love Assange and the pigs, it is only under State department guidance, they are allowed to so do.
so heavy in the dungeon of CIA scribbles, i write.
i will take the large FOIA release to be digitized tomorrow, so Anonymous, and all the decentralized bureaucracy of future empires, might see what FONTS drive authority.
when silently, Zeke Hawkins, looked into my face, with such pain, it rendered my heart aimless, then i looked for his story.
the pain in his face, was like the pain, in the face of Assange, and by that more recent memory of suffering, i am compelled to write again.
in 2008, i discovered the story in the brutal Boston Globe, called "the boy who cried rape."
Zeke, a truth sayer, spoke against the rapist hazing process ignored and protected by the rich new england school.
and then as he fought this violation in the media, his name was pushed into this lazy boston box.
it was with so much horror, the night i found this, that clearly, the pain on his face was to me, speaking volumes in its silence.
and so then, i wondered, how money might buy a Good Name.
but in honor, i perceived, the ethical core, of the seventeen year old, speaking against the corruption of his elders.
and so, again and again, throughout the days, i relive, this tiny moment in time, meeting julian assange, where so eerily, so little was said, and so much.
and unified in conscience, i might feel, we move, forward, with words, renewed in mind, justice, reform, or truth.
and then, my last day in stockholm in may, on bambuser i recorded interview, with refugees directly affected by the trafigura toxic dumping.
they were so aware.
we spoke of the african union, as a ruse, and through the swift swedification of mindset, and then, within, the racism perceived.
osama's death was boldly proclaimed, and i wondered at the humans there, believing as they were told.
i arrived the day of the stockholm bombing, thinking of my friend shay raviv, and how, this is not israel, this is so safe here, now.
and leaving sweden, i landed in NYC, the day Obama arrived, to explain the shadowy story of Osama's burial at sea.
i arrived in california, mexico, los angeles, cinco de mayo, to get to work.
bastille day, was the day i scanned the document for assange, i spent the forth of july in london, and went to norway the next day to see the Munch paintings, and the oslo bomber hit oslo 17 days after i was there. i escaped the london riots by one week.
so now
as for independence,
inside the portrait of assange i left in england, i left notice of my love tony hauth.
who died september eleventh 2010, by his own hand, and heroin.
he was dying when i threw him back into the ocean of los angeles, or his mother's wealth.
who wants to keep the narcotrafficking cables off the internet, just wants to kill my friends, so far as i'm concerned.
as for H&M, i think of the police baton on the heads of the workers
or the foxconn suicide nets
and 30 cents an hour HAITI minimum wage promoted by Obama, and i think of the women in chinese sweatshops getting their pants inspected to make sure they menstruate and are not pregnant, or the forced abortions of SCIENTOLOGY, and how not enough people are talking about organ trafficking.
the red market . . .
carney
and MKULTRA.
or the nazis imported to work with CIA,
i was drugged senseless, preserved, toxified.
and wikileaks, i'm lovin' it.
and all hail peter van buren, NATIONAL STRIKE, invitation to State Department, you are cordially invited to protest your corporate government's Complicitous Criminal Secrecy and Lousy Embarassing Security, which demanded Wikileaks Divine Necessity.
jesus loves wikileaks.
hail mary.
allah.
yahweh.
god
wants to
free humanity.
not tomorrow, but today.
the nobel prize is not good enough.
no sign made by man
bears witness
to divine right of kings.
wherein we were peasants all, or foolish.
confucian orders score us on
as lucky we are to make 100
fixing
crimes against humanity.
free humanity.
for lawrence lessig, for going public, with his story of childhood sexual abuse
as wikileaks
gives truth
to the secret suffering of the IRISH national orphans forced into sex work
who will stand by?
los angeles graphic arts
contra police brutality
or wars
i read: camaroon made punishable by death, the import of hazardous waste.
as hazardous waste disposal in Africa, europe's garbage can, was both cheap for Europe, and Lucrative for de-monetized Africa.
now how this ties into the world bank and the IMF, don't you wonder.
i read this from my beautiful international law and environmental policy book, gagging at every word.
and what was proclaimed via wikileaks, and the spokesmanship of Julian Assange, regarding the Guardian's gagging, regarding the toxics dumped in Ivory Coast, at least was a commonplace nightmare.
and then, it was this story, that so firmly gripped me, and prejudiced me against the Superinjunction Wonderland, that is Great Britain, United Kingdom, where all sorts of fictitious stories pass for news, and actual events of corporate ecological atrocity, are kept from the wilting public and their pints.
the myth of
limitless growth and de beers diamonds, and fur, and travel, remind me, how i loathe i am to view the new york times, with its lies about libya, its purple prose, about bourgeois living, and its fictitious Weapons of Mass Destruction.
as now NYT seems to love Assange and the pigs, it is only under State department guidance, they are allowed to so do.
so heavy in the dungeon of CIA scribbles, i write.
i will take the large FOIA release to be digitized tomorrow, so Anonymous, and all the decentralized bureaucracy of future empires, might see what FONTS drive authority.
when silently, Zeke Hawkins, looked into my face, with such pain, it rendered my heart aimless, then i looked for his story.
the pain in his face, was like the pain, in the face of Assange, and by that more recent memory of suffering, i am compelled to write again.
in 2008, i discovered the story in the brutal Boston Globe, called "the boy who cried rape."
Zeke, a truth sayer, spoke against the rapist hazing process ignored and protected by the rich new england school.
and then as he fought this violation in the media, his name was pushed into this lazy boston box.
it was with so much horror, the night i found this, that clearly, the pain on his face was to me, speaking volumes in its silence.
and so then, i wondered, how money might buy a Good Name.
but in honor, i perceived, the ethical core, of the seventeen year old, speaking against the corruption of his elders.
and so, again and again, throughout the days, i relive, this tiny moment in time, meeting julian assange, where so eerily, so little was said, and so much.
and unified in conscience, i might feel, we move, forward, with words, renewed in mind, justice, reform, or truth.
and then, my last day in stockholm in may, on bambuser i recorded interview, with refugees directly affected by the trafigura toxic dumping.
they were so aware.
we spoke of the african union, as a ruse, and through the swift swedification of mindset, and then, within, the racism perceived.
osama's death was boldly proclaimed, and i wondered at the humans there, believing as they were told.
i arrived the day of the stockholm bombing, thinking of my friend shay raviv, and how, this is not israel, this is so safe here, now.
and leaving sweden, i landed in NYC, the day Obama arrived, to explain the shadowy story of Osama's burial at sea.
i arrived in california, mexico, los angeles, cinco de mayo, to get to work.
bastille day, was the day i scanned the document for assange, i spent the forth of july in london, and went to norway the next day to see the Munch paintings, and the oslo bomber hit oslo 17 days after i was there. i escaped the london riots by one week.
so now
as for independence,
inside the portrait of assange i left in england, i left notice of my love tony hauth.
who died september eleventh 2010, by his own hand, and heroin.
he was dying when i threw him back into the ocean of los angeles, or his mother's wealth.
who wants to keep the narcotrafficking cables off the internet, just wants to kill my friends, so far as i'm concerned.
as for H&M, i think of the police baton on the heads of the workers
or the foxconn suicide nets
and 30 cents an hour HAITI minimum wage promoted by Obama, and i think of the women in chinese sweatshops getting their pants inspected to make sure they menstruate and are not pregnant, or the forced abortions of SCIENTOLOGY, and how not enough people are talking about organ trafficking.
the red market . . .
carney
and MKULTRA.
or the nazis imported to work with CIA,
i was drugged senseless, preserved, toxified.
and wikileaks, i'm lovin' it.
and all hail peter van buren, NATIONAL STRIKE, invitation to State Department, you are cordially invited to protest your corporate government's Complicitous Criminal Secrecy and Lousy Embarassing Security, which demanded Wikileaks Divine Necessity.
jesus loves wikileaks.
hail mary.
allah.
yahweh.
god
wants to
free humanity.
not tomorrow, but today.
the nobel prize is not good enough.
no sign made by man
bears witness
to divine right of kings.
wherein we were peasants all, or foolish.
confucian orders score us on
as lucky we are to make 100
fixing
crimes against humanity.
free humanity.
for lawrence lessig, for going public, with his story of childhood sexual abuse
as wikileaks
gives truth
to the secret suffering of the IRISH national orphans forced into sex work
who will stand by?
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