We have repeatedly seen the specter of terrorism used as a justification 
for the dehumanization, abandonment and betrayal of immigrants and refugees. 
But with our eyes wide open, we should also realize that we are witnessing an even greater broadening of the enemy combatant construct -- much of which is happening on US soil. The vilification of Black activists, some of whom have now been deemed "Black Identity Extremists" (another official category), sets the stage for the FBI, and other agents of law enforcement, to treat Black activists as terrorists, and act accordingly. The abuse of Native people in Standing Rock, and elsewhere, reveals how quickly the trappings of military occupation can be turned upon Native protesters in the United States -- just as the first military mobilizations in US history sought to remove Native people, by any means necessary, for the sake of acquiring land and resource. A desire for Indigenous resources, was in fact, the only moral justification that the first formations of the US military required, and the hoarding of that land, those resources, and any opportunities attached to them have likewise been the product of glorified racism and avarice. That origin of military purpose and intent has never been confronted, socially or historically, in the United States, and thus, there has never been a significant departure from our country's original, immoral compass.

 from truthout,
disappeared by the state
feb. 28  


i always felt the war on terror would come here, would be the government with unlimited power and imperial dementia, terrorizing us. the way we treated people in their countries,  the way we treat immigrants, the way we treat the ecosystem, the way we deal in life and death, is the way we will be treated. even the tyrants, even the tyrant families, they live in tyranny. terrorizing the rest of the world will not make us immune from terror. 

i saw someone from the past today. i saw her before down here but i was ashamed to say because i was so messed up then and once climbed her fire escape coked up and she let me in and i disintegrated in her loft on her wooden swing seat and melted in a druggy sweat and gas and addled infatuation. so i acted like a stranger and she did too, until today when we met without embarrassment. i don't know why. thinking about that last time i always got a shiver of shame, but today it was as if we were meeting in a way for the first time though having tangentially known each other before. it was another life for me almost, though it's still often ghosting this present one. i'm so glad this one is sober, and though i'm much older, my disintegration now is more organic, un-drugged.

she asked what i was doing and i said well my life is pretty circumscribed, if that's the right word, just the dogs, and i think i said the blog, though i didn't elaborate or give her this address. i think of how little i've done, really, i've been so inward, walking around taking the same pictures on different days, saying the same things on different days, mostly to the dog, the same dog, or talking to myself, talking to r., singing to the dog, i mean that's it, that's what i've been doing, it's kind of embarrassing, people like her were always doing things, painting giant tromp l'oeil on buildings, painting, i don't know what else. anyway, i don't compare myself, i just feel embarrassed at how little i've accomplished. 
hey what is all this saying anyway. i don't know, earlier today riley asked what's new? and i felt the same, like oh god, i don't even know what's new, what's wrong with me, nothing's new, but admitting that lets me just sigh a minute, and just be. 
all i can say is i'm glad i'm not doing what i used to do. and frankly i'm happy and proud in my doing, even if it sounds like nothing much. compared with what i used to do, it's a wonderful lot. i want to thank me for living long enough to be thankful for this simple life.

kids, did you know obama deported more immigrants than all the other presidents combined?

i wrote deja jamais meaning jamais vu. always never. there was an exchange, it was neither deja or jamais. it had happened before. it wasn't the feeling of happening before, or the feeling that it had never happened when it had. it was after talking about obama's land grab. some things happened but not directly. we may remember them too. the land grabs go way back. this one is new. the land remembers. it's been grabbed and altered before, still there's a spirit of place. like the island, that was swamp before. you feel you've been there before, though it is a made place. something doesn't come from nothing but something. something is. so we feel something for nature, that predates the draining of swamps, the growing of trees, the cutting of trees, that predates us, that is memory inchoate. my head is muddled. pressure drop. i was hit by a front on the point that went right through me. but the feeling persists and it's the spirit of place conflated with dramatic change to come. it remembers, it remembers loss again. it remembers it coming.
instantly, you ever have the feeling, i'm over my head.

Let’s put the Obama Presidential Center somewhere that makes sense

i read this with such gratitude after reading the shameful propaganda of the preceeding letters from the opc and the golf association. i could cry when a true voice penetrates the fog of invective and propaganda from the land grabbers. it is simply an act of power over people, community, affordable housing, and nature. it's theft, plain and simple, it's a corporate land grab and a feeding frenzy of capitalists wishing only to take over the park for private enterprise. we have to wake up while there is still hope and time for a change that will be irrevocable. we have to at least try to stop the real estate predators and save our park.


February 28, 2018

Let’s put the Obama Presidential Center somewhere that makes sense

I grew queasy at the prophetic vision of Jackson Park that Jerry Levy expressed in his panegyric to the proposed Obama Presidential Center in the Jan. 24 issue of the Herald. For one thing, he talks about it like it’s a done deal, when in fact it is extremely controversial and, unless Mr. Levy knows something the rest of us don’t, we may still be able to stop it from being built in the park.
I’d like to see it elsewhere nearby, maybe on 63rd Street with a rebuilt Green Line El as part of the package if the neighbors are OK with all that, but I am worried about our having to pay for it with tax dollars that our schools need more.
Apart from his lack of appreciation for the beauty and historic importance of Cornell Drive, which he wants to close off, Mr. Levy defends the destruction of trees and fish on the Wooded Island, claiming this “restoration” has increased foot traffic and therefore safety. Does he have any data to back that up?
Halfway through his letter I felt like telling him to hop on the bus and go to Millennium Park if he’s so averse to functioning roads and to quiet nature sanctuaries.
As for his preachy and fatuous assertion that “the views of the Obama Presidential Center to the west … will be a great inspiration for all South Siders to boast about our being the home of a two-term President,” give me a break. Who is Levy to speak for the political views of the entire South Side, and to tell us what inspires us?
A museum on Stony Island dedicated to Malcolm X and his legacy would inspire Me, but absent that I’ll be hugely inspired if we can just manage to preserve our park by putting the Obama Presidential Center somewhere that makes sense.

-suzanne erfurth.

we thank you.

ruthless is the word i'd use to describe americans. or should i say america. no. it's americans. love it or leave it america is the land of hate thy neighbor and the industry of school shootings and the manifold enterprise of global war. i wonder if america can ever face up to the real enemy inside.

                            lost baby sock. to claim must provide mate.

Concerning Ella, ball thief.

i do complain a lot, do i not? i want to complain now to the forgetful ethereal virtual sky about ella the ball thief who comes marauding my mornings. her maw i thought was clueless and just had zero dog sense or connection i now see as a pervert who likes to steal balls.

it's amazing how you can make a career in america telling only lies. you can combine that with a career in crime quite nicely and make a killing never dirtying your hands with your dirty mind.

if it wasn't gentrification obomba wouldn't have to say it's not gentrification, it's not happening, not here, no, we're building the tower in the people's park for the people who will not be gentrified out, right obomba?

but i tole riley who is overwhelmed and needs vitamin d, if you can get out with a dog and the sun on your face like an upturned flower nodding by the lake, no matter what kind of land grabbing sick shit armed schoolchildren and teachers, whatever sick shit americans get up to, you can handle all the disease of a failed democracy. 

still obomba is a professional career liar and cares not a whit about the people of this or any community.

                    no one can tell me that i'm doing wrong today.

they say blah blah blah obama blah blah. i say blah blah blah land grab blah blah. they say we blah blah blah will not dignify blah blah his legacy blah blah blah blah.

it's hard to tell 
who is insane
and who is just actinsane.

we walk along 
in different worlds
cagey geeky
fatiguey
military girl 


i could have did a haiku.
i could have at least have tried.
harder. 
she doesn't seem hard, she seems
soft, humiliated,
afraid.

meanwhile it takes it out of me 
anyway
so many words awayste
not like j.k. 
he takes the cake.

the way it started was simple. a girl i always see running, whose dog wants to not run and maybe even stop and talk sometime, who will not meet my eyes, well i saw her today in stylish blue grey military fatigue from head to toe, (creepy can be sexy nonononono) and boots that could crush small lives, and i may have muttered something at least with my eyes but she looked down, at the dog, at space, at her dog in her shadow, militarized space, and yet it must have registered, my surprise and my discovery, so that's it, she's cagey military. oh god i feel queasy. somehow i imagine i radiate peace. she can't look. it's not in the military code book. i always felt embarrassment. hers, and by reflex mine. i thought she was just morbid shy. but that's what a survivor said at parkland high, those rotsy geeks were strange cages. they'd get you in their sights, but they won't meet your eye. then i thought, wait, does that explain anything? does that explain why? i don't think it can be. i don't think it should be. it has to be why.


 
 

listen, just ignore us please. you can say anything here. if it's radical or truth they just ignore you. it should be clear there are some snivelling shills who stand to make a pile off obombaland. don't ignore them. they will take the ground beneath your feet, kids.

to say trump's a sick fuck just doesn't get it. trump's the tumor, and we are the body. somehow from the hollow hungry cells within us, we created this monstrous growth. this is the nature we replaced nature with. this is the sickness we feed, this is the cancer, this, the all-consuming nature of limitless greed.

arming teachers is the sickest expression of the stupidity and evil vacuum of greed and depravity yet in the land of lost freedom. nothing could bespeak a decadent culture more than that. turning education into war. what could possibly curb or purge this rampage? impeachment seems a sad salve for such a suppurating wound.

words

When you said people did you mean punish?
         When you said friend did you mean fraud?
When you said thought did you mean terror?
         When you said connection did you mean con?
When you said God did you mean greed?
         When you said faith did you mean fanatic?
When you said hope did you mean hype?
         When you said unity did you mean enmity?
When you said freedom did you mean forfeit?
         When you said law did you mean lie?
When you said truth did you mean treason?
         When you said feeling did you mean fool?
When you said together did you mean token?
         When you said desire did you mean desert?
When you said sex did you mean savagery?
         When you said need did you mean nought?
When you said blood did you mean bought?
         When you said heart did you you hard?
When you said head did you mean hide?
         When you said health did you mean hurt?
When you said love did you mean loss?
         When you said fate did you mean fight?
When you said destiny did you mean decimate?
         When you said honor did you mean hunger?
When you said bread did you mean broke?
         When you said feast did you mean fast?
When you said first did you mean forgotten?
         When you said last did you mean least?
When you said woman did you mean wither?
         When you said man did you mean master?
When you said mother did you mean smother?
         When you said father did you mean fatal?
When you said sister did you mean surrender?
         When you said brother did you mean brutal?
When you said fellow did you mean follow?
         When you said couple did you mean capital?
When you said family did you mean failure?
         When you said mankind did you mean market?
When you said society did you mean sickness?
         When you said democracy did you mean indignity?
When you said equality did you mean empty?
         When you said politics did you mean power?
When you said left did you mean lost?
         When you said right did you mean might?
When you said republic did you mean rich?
         When you said wealthy did you mean wall?
When you said poor did you mean prison?
         When you said justice did you mean just us?
When you said immigrant did you mean enemy?
         When you said refugee did you mean refusal?
When you said earth did you mean ownership?
         When you said soil did you mean oil?
When you said community did you mean conflict?
         When you said safety did you mean suspicion?
When you said security did you mean sabotage?
         When you said army did you mean Armageddon?
When you said white did you mean welcome?
         When you said black did you mean back?
When you said yellow did you mean yield?
         When you said brown did you mean down?
When you said we did you mean war?
         When you said you did you mean useless?
When you said she did you mean suffer?
         When you said he did you mean horror?
When you said they did you mean threat?
         When you said I did you mean island?
When you said tribe did you mean trouble?
         When you said name did you mean nobody?
When you said news did you mean nonsense?
         When you said media did you mean miasma?
When you said success did you mean sucker?
         When you said fame did you mean game?
When you said ideal did you mean idol?
         When you said yesterday did you mean travesty?
When you said today did you mean doomsday?
         When you said tomorrow did you mean never?
When you said hear did you mean hush?
         When you said listen did you mean limit?
When you said write did you mean wound?
         When you said read did you mean retreat?
When you said literacy did you mean apathy?
         When you said fiction did you mean forget?
When you said poetry did you mean passivity?
            When you say art do you mean act


john keene 



i don't know what defines an era other than arbitrary division. but this poem seems to define this time, this bush obama trump time, pretty well. i suppose it could be more succinct, but like this time it seems to go further and further back, and it seems to go on and on and on.

the one thing the erection of a massive tower in the park most starkly does not represent is freedom. it represents utter disdain for freedom, for nature, green space, and community. the thing the massive tower in the people's park most painfully represents is the imminent and irresistible force of the land grab, it represents the anti-democratic philosophy of survival of the wealthiest and the greediest. it represents theft of the commons. it shows us that nothing is of the people by the people for the people. that everything, without exception, is for the taking. the tower is a ghostly ghastly illumination in glass and steel and hubris representing empire over people, it says, you have no sanctuary, you have no nature to call home, you have no place to rest, it represents we take what we want, and we want yours. we want you green space by the lake, we want to play golf in your sanctuary, we want you to find your community elsewhere, for this is our playground now, this is our treaty, our imminent domain.

some snivelling asshole called the cops on my friends for the simple freedom of a run on the path by the lake. nasty nasty nasty, that we are victims of such fear and hate as makes the law and guns control and threaten our most basic freedoms.

i dreamed of mudpuppies last night. alive. i only ever saw them dead. it was here on pebble beach i first saw a mudpuppy and i held it up and pictured it flying in the sky, and riding on mister's head. this beach recalls the afterlife to me. there was one mudpuppy below the sea wall swimming when i looked down and then another and another. it was clearly a dream because i never see more than one and only expired. the salamanders are declining maybe because the water's so clear there's not much to eat, or toxins. the waterdogs are threatened.

the thing about gentrification is it's great to be the gentry. it's better to be the gentry and to gentrify unto others than to be gentrified, specially if you ain't got money.

guns make the powerless feel powerful. guns make bullies into killers. guns destroy schools. guns destroy communities. guns make us afraid of our fellow americans. guns give the make freedom tyranny. 

in the shower i wondered what i'd be doing if i was a genius entrepreneur.

sarah just joined a declutterers group. what a fucking waste of time, she said. actually, i imagine i'm not joining them, talking around it and down rabbit holes, and no organization. 

i said funny i just looked up someone i was referred to for a golden gig and the first was a declutterer or space organizer. but that wasn't her. it might have been a nice trade, but i'd probably die of shame if a space organizer saw my space.

we be wanting a narrative for our life. some of us thought we was born with one. sometimes we want it to be true, or we might want to blame it on someone, but really deep down we want to write it our self. we just don't know how, there's no one to teach it if it's never been written before. you got to write it. it never happened like this before.

the ice is slowly melting on pebble beach. the pebbles pushed up through the breach in the sea wall and they made a lovely beach. i found a piece of melted blue glass from the chicago fire, or some fire in chicago. i give it to r. she so gratified. mister left his goggles behind. he's not a speedo kind of guy and needer am i.

yesterday mister was getting ready for to swim. today he was really into it. this is my true spring.

hersh! i ain't seen you in like 4ever! dude, where you been hidin' at?

 um...well...i think i just see'd you like, um last week.

hilde my little secret ranunculus.

mister shares a bottle of red with hershey.

hershey shares a bottle of red with mister. 
i toss it back in the water and they take turns retrieving for each other.

i once thought comet was just so goofy, but he's real smart and thoughtful. he now poses beautifully, though i still often can't find the right camera setting. i saw videos of him as a 5 week old retrieving, falling over himself in the tall grass and rolling like a little ball with legs. 
 

comet and hilde of the flowers.

hi mary, how ah ya.

comet, hilde and ranunculus.

i ask myself, am i a gentrifier? i say i've always been one step ahead of the developers, but others were one step ahead of me. everyone's involved in gentrification. the top predators, the top of the gentrification food chain, has been planning this phase, obamaland, for years. it's well underway, looming and engulphing property long before the future tower and the swank hotel and the golf course. the top gentrifiers could live anywhere, but they want the prime realty, near the water, near the hotel, near the museum, near the golf course, they want the best real estate, and if that is public land, they will confiscate. 

they talk about each school shooting as a terrible tragedy and then move on to the inevitable next. the military teaches children kill at school. that's where the last shooter learned. the nra and the junior rotc are teaching children to kill. this country is sick beyond belief.

i met a fellow birder on spider bridge running the other way with his wife and introducing me as they passed and the wind took her name. she stopped and hugged mister and reminded me we had met and i said oh yeah, i remember, yesterday right? no? the day before? no, a while ago, we were on the island and you were complaining. she mentioned to my bird friend how i was complaining and he said, oh yeah, that's doug. ha ha, i said, i thought it was just yesterday. she said i think you're always complaining. we smiled, charmed, i'm sure. if you keep on walking and complaining and smiling and people smile when they see you and don't look blank, it becomes almost an art. the best art you carry with you, working and shaping, walking and talking to your shadow and the dog, to anyone who listens, with every breath and smiling complaint.

you bring together. you force apart. force is the opposite of bring. 
the truth is the opposite of the propaganda.
meanwhile the planners push their plans, 
with stealth and force. 
meanwhile they're confiscating the park, 
cutting the trees and raising towers, playing golf 
in the stolen sanctuary, selling the neighborhood. 
while we dither, argue, obfuscate, pay heed, and stew. 
that lolly from hahvad, who wrote that piece in the tribunal, pshew,
after i shook my head the word that stuck was force. 
that revealed the whole agenda of the piece and of the plan. 
she quotes some university professor shill erin c. adams:  
Placing  the  center  near  Washington  Park  would  isolate it    
and  wouldn’t   force   communities   to   come   together,   
she said. what an idiot notion- confiscating the park, privatizing the people's park, building a massive conning tower, will force communities together. it reminds me of the notion of the melting pot, and how that united us all in democratic harmony.
the word reveals the plan. force is the operative word, it's an opposite word, a word for what they are actually doing, while saying they are doing the opposite. what it will do will be to force community apart. it will unite the land grabbers, and force the people out. 
the 23 story tower and the professional golf course will not bring communities together.
it will bring the force of money together, and cause the community seek another place to be, it will cause the have-nots to flee like refugees.
but it may not be so easy, when you use force to create wealth out of community, people don't always just bow their heads and leave quietly. 

 

Song

 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest;
Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander they know not where
Are full of trouble and full of care;
       To stay at home is best.

 

Weary and homesick and distressed,
They wander east, they wander west,
And are baffled and beaten and blown about
By the winds of the wilderness of doubt;
       To stay at home is best.

 

Then stay at home, my heart, and rest;
The bird is safest in its nest;
O’er all that flutter their wings and fly
A hawk is hovering in the sky;
       To stay at home is best.

 

                       ***

 

this came in my box today. 

 

it fits for harry dean stanton. he feared dying.

 

i see it in his eyes on film.

 

he wanted to stay at home.

 

i think about how we carve 

 

space with divisions.

 

we are devised

 

we succumb 

 

to pressure 

 

distant wars 

city blocks

of lost connections

we are were.

 

we were taught 

 

to eat the world

 

and go home. some of us

 

never get home.

 

we get eaten up on the way.

 

the hawk in the sky 

 

has been replaced

 

by a phantom

 

drone in my mind.

 

i know it's out there

 

waiting for me

 

a step away-

 

a step out from home-

 

with so many steps to 

 

go.