Northern Aggression

 I've been disconcerted by the recent uptick in violence in Northern Ireland.  I have ancestors from Roscommon, in the Republic of Ireland, and the subject of 'The Troubles' has fascinated me since I was a wee laddie.  My upstairs neighbor is an immigrant from Armagh, and her parents, both lovely people, still abide there.  

Thankfully, nobody has died during the current unrest, though youths are hurling bricks and Molotov cocktails, and a bus was hijacked and torched in Belfast.  The cause of the unrest seems to be complications of Brexit over customs and borders, and a failure to enforce masking and social distancing mandates during a funeral for a deceased Sinn Fein leader.  Politicians on both sides of the Republic of Ireland/Northern Ireland border have called for calm.

Me?  I have one thing to say... you don't want to live in a Stiff Little Fingers song.  The members of Stiff Little Fingers were the last people who wanted to live in a Stiff Little Fingers song:

The rioters are too young to remember the 1998 Omagh bombing, an indiscriminate terrorist attack that killed 29 persons and injured more than 300.   The horror of that massacre, committed by an IRA splinter group, was a major catalyst for the peace talks... even the main body of the IRA was appalled at the violence.  The kids trying to ramp up the violence need to be forced to meet with survivors of the bombing to get 'scared straight'.  Nobody needs a return to the bad old days.

Saved By Punk

My great and good friend J-Co, knowing that I am a huge Stiff Little Fingers fan, sent me an article about the Belfast punk band's lasting impact. I first heard the band's music on college radio when I was in junior high school and was instantly hooked. To get an inkling of my devotion to the band and its music, one merely has to see the number of my posts that have mentioned them- yeah, still no post tags...

When I first heard the band's music, I was too young to really understand The Troubles, though the band's music inspired me to learn more about that particular history. Reading Stuart Bailie's article in the Irish Post is enough to give me goosebumps:


There were power cuts and no-go areas and murder gangs at large after midnight. Getting home from school was like a daily re-run of Warriors. On the local news, politicians carried themselves like street fighters, launching accusations across the studio, bawling and berating.

And so we endured the ring of steel and cement around Belfast, the body searches and the terrible sense of vacancy every evening. But then punk rock arrived, with a whole other vision.

It was a sound that related to the teenage rage, and there was no more appropriate place to make this heard. We were living in a hyper-real Clash song, the cheap holiday full of misery that nobody in England ever wanted to consider.

When I hear Suspect Device by Stiff Little Fingers, the mood is intensely revived. I grieve for the lyric at the start when Jake Burns sings about the 2,000 dead, because a further 1,000 would die before the situation improved.

I feel excited when I hear the rasping voice and the fierce guitar because it was the sound of a novel attitude — the idea that you might rewire the mentality of the Belfast youth and direct it against the warlords.


As Mr Bailie notes, the song, named after suspected improvised explosive devices, begins with an enumeration of the victims of the violence, commonly portrayed as sectarian, but also rooted in economic rivalries and an occupation by a foreign army (this is a timely subject, even though the names and places have changed since the 1990s). Singer Jake Burns then compares the hatred sown by the "powers that be" to the bomb of the title:

Inflammable material's planted in my head
It's a suspect device that's left 2000 dead

Their solutions are our problems
They put up the wall
On each side time and prime us
Make sure we get fuck all.

As the song progresses, Mr Burns implores his youthful audience to eschew the violence and conduct what could be termed the, please forgive me, Irish Spring:

Just take a look around you
At the bitterness and spite
Why can't we take over
And try to put it right?

The final verse is a defiant growl- a determination to subvert the rhetoric, to undermine the occupation:

We're a suspect device if we do what we are told
But a suspect device can score an own goal
I'm a suspect device the Army can't defuse
You're a suspect device they know they can't refuse

We're gonna blow up in their face.

It's a glorious example of sustained rage, a klaxon call for the youth on both sides of the sectarian divide (the band has had both Protestant and Catholic members) to forge an identity independent of the flawed adult authorities:





Another song mentioned in the article, Wasted Life, defies the sectarian organizations of both sides, as Mr Bailie put it:

It was a thrill to hear this song on the John Peel show and to reflect on the flip side, Wasted Life which mocked the act of joining a paramilitary gang.


I could be a soldier
Go out there and fight to save this land
Be a people's soldier
Paramilitary gun in hand
I won't be a soldier
I won't take no orders from no-one
Stuff their fucking armies
Killing isn't my idea of fun

They wanna waste my life
They wanna waste my time
They wanna waste my life
And they've stolen it away

I could be a hero
Live and die for their 'important' cause
A united nation
Or an independent state with laws
And rules and regulations
That merely cause disturbances and wars
That is what I've got now
All thanks to the freedom-seeking hordes

I'm not gonna be taken in
They said if I don't join I just can't win
I've heard that story many times before
And every time I threw it out the door

The last verse of the song is explicitly anti-fascist, sparing none of the violent factions:

Still they come up to me
With a different name but same old face
I can see the connection
With another time and a different place
They ain't blonde-haired or blue-eyed
But they think that they're the master race
They're nothing but blind fascists
Brought up to hate and given lives to waste





Mr Bailie also mentions Alternative Ulster, a song which could serve as the band's mission statement. As Mr Bailie put it:

And of course there was Alternative Ulster, a rather melodramatic charter for a new society that still provokes damage to a Belfast dance floor. The song told us that the answer was out there and that we could grab it and take it. In essence, we could be empowered.

The song's title is a play on words, a can admonition to alter the native land to an alternative land:

An Alternative Ulster
Grab it and change it it's yours
Get an Alternative Ulster
Ignore the bores and their laws
Get an Alternative Ulster
Be an anti-security force
Alter your native Ulster
Alter your native land

Jake Burns' growl is a plea here, as well as a challenge:





Just listening to all of those tracks gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I've listened to them. The band will be releasing a new album next week. They'll also be playing in NYC in September, but, sadly, I probably won't be able to take a day off to see them.

I think I'll end this post with the first SLF song that I heard, the song which made me a lifelong fan of the band. Jake Burns notably said, “You’ve probably worked out by now, I don’t do “comedy” songs !!” I'd respectfully beg to differ, though, because Barbed Wire Love is a magnificent bit of black, black humor:





HANX! to J-Co and, of course, the great and good personnel of Stiff Little Fingers.

Stiff Little Fingers

I am dedicating this post to my brother Vincenzo, who is a huge SLF fan, and to Johnny Pez and Zombie Rotten McDonald, who mentioned SLF in the comments two posts ago.

Belfast's Stiff Little Fingers took the name by a song by London punk band The Vibrators,though the political subject matter that characterizes many of their songs brings The Clash to mind more readily. The band was inspired to write about the sociopolitcal situation of the time by Daily Express writer Gordon Ogilvie, who became the band's first manager. The first SLF single was Suspect Device, a vitriolic jeremiad about the "powers that be" that kept the population of Ulster divided and hostile. It is important to note that SLF was an integrated band, composed of both Catholic and Protestant members*, and their ire was directed at the authoritarian figures on both sides of the divide that kept the conflict going. The call to action posed by the band was not a call to violence, but, as articulated in the single Alternative Ulster, a call to transform society, to "ignore the bores and their laws" (this jerk, the kind of guy who'd get along swimmingly with Pat Robertson or James Dobson-but not Pat Buchanan or Bill Donohue- comes to mind).

I'm posting the video for Barbed Wire Love, a blackly comedic string of macabre puns and 50's pop cliches describing the giddy highs and rubble-strewn lows of love in the ruins:





My brother Vincenzo, who's a commissioned officer in the US Army, is partial to the song Tin Soldiers from the band's second album - hell, he knows and commands the kind of kids the song describes.

Here's the website for the band, which is still a going concern

* I just want to note here that the characterization of the conflicts that have torn Ireland apart as "sectarian violence" is a gross oversimplification, and that factors too numerous to enumerate here have been at work throughout the whole tragic history.

The St. Patrick's Season Rolls On...

The first punk single to be released in Ireland was 1977's Television Screen, by a Dublin band named (no doubt inspired by that wonderfully innocent combination of hubris and geekery that would lead another teenager to dub himself "Bono Vox" soon after) The Radiators from Space. The inspiration for this single, and its follow-ups, was explained by frontman Phil Chevron (nee Philip Ryan) in this fashion:

"Our best songs came from our experience of growing up in an Ireland still paralysed by political and religious hypocrisies but which, we believed, was in its heart youthful and forward-thinking. We were the first Irish band to grapple with these contradictions but first and foremost we were a pop group and we could readily identify with the UK's 'No Fun' slogan."

Of course, the next Irish (here using the word to describe the island itself, not the republic) punk band to explode onto the scene (check out the notes concerning the release of the first single) was Belfast's Stiff Little Fingers (a future blog post? you betcha!), whose sound was harsher... it's the difference between describing "political and religious hypocrisies" and describing political and religious slaughter.

Anyway, back to the Radiators from Space... their first album 1977's TV Tube Heart is a great artifact of the punk era. Press Gang and Sunday World cover ground similar to that covered in the Jam's News of the World. Blitzin' at the Ritz references changes in trade policies and politics. All-in-all, it's a fantastic, and woefully unappreciated, album.

The band shortened their name to The Radiators (not to be confused with The Radiators from New Orleans who are, in a mind-boggling coincidence, playing B.B. King's in Times Square tonight), and relocated to London for their follow-up album Ghostown, which was released in 1979. This album saw a maturation of the band's sound, and a multiplicity of styles, ranging from the simple rave-up Johnny Jukebox to the brilliant, bizarre Kitty Ricketts. My personal favorite from the album is the incredible (Song of the) Faithful Departed, an epic sprawl through Irish history and literature, incorporating Christian iconography and folk balladry, and referencing the works of such Irish literary greats as Sean O'Casey, William Butler Yeats, and James Joyce:



I would love to know what the deal is with the dude who is seen in the video before the song begins. The performance itself is a lip-synch of the album version of the song, but a stripped-down acoustic version of the song was included as a bonus track on the live retrospective Alive-Alive-O. The guitar intro to the album version of the song, to me, is reminiscent of Television's twin-guitar sound- I so proud of my little observation that I was just a little crestfallen when I found that this writer scooped me, but I am happy to have discovered his blog. Faithful Departed was covered by Moving Hearts, a band fronted by (BE NICE, ZRM!!!) Christy Moore.

After Ghostown, the Radiators split up, but Phil Chevron went on to join the Pogues for their second and subsequent albums. He wrote the incredible emigration song Thousands are Sailing
and the gorgeous, heartrending Lorelei (on which he sang lead vocals).

Apparently, the Radiators recently reunited and released a new album. Just that knowledge alone makes me glad I wrote this post.

Further reading on Phil Chevron

Another Nor'easter

I often joke about how my job is really cushy, except when it's not. Last night was one of those non-cushy nights. I arrived at work at 4PM, after spending the day at the volunteer coaching gig, which runs from October to March (in the spring and summer, the kids should be outside, or involved in school athletic programs), and attending the luncheon/end-of-season program. The rain was torrential, and the wind was gusting to 50mph (80km/h for you unamerican surrender monkeys and socialests -sic). The weather was the sort of weather that leads to little umbrella graveyards popping up in sheltered nooks, into which the gutted remnants of cheap umbrellas are blown by the gale.

When I arrived at work, I noted that many branches were down on the main site, and that water was entering one of the buildings (I did a quick clean-up, and battened down the hatches). Two of the other sites I was monitoring had no power- I even had to travel to one site to make sure everything was okay (the alarm systems were running on battery power, so I was able to get back to my usual base of operations after ascertaining that things were okay). I was able to spend most of the night indoors, although my pea coat (genuine Navy surplus) and knit cap never did quite dry out over the course of the night.

I had hoped to work until midnight (having left the house at 8AM for the volunteer gig), but I received a call from my relief... he had a bad bug, possibly the flu, and would be unable to come to work. One of his children, a brilliant, wonderful boy, has been in the hospital for about three weeks, and there's no place for picking up bugs like a hospital. I always pack an overnight bag (change of clothes, contact lens case/solution, toothbrush) in case of emergency, so it was a rough, but not untenable situation. I've always prided myself on being bloody bold and resolute when it was necessary, and my situation was a picnic compared to that in which my co-worker has been for almost a month.

The night was a rough one (and not in a good way), and my foul-weather gear never did quite dry out, but I got through it all (the fact of the time change helped), and greeted the dawn inexplicably filled with energy, and marveling at the changes wrought on the scenery by the elemental onslaught of the night before. For instance, the stream (the Dutch settlers in this area would have called it a "kill") in the following picture is usually more placid than it is today:



I held off a new post until now because I wanted anyone who cares to read this blog to watch the videos linked in the previous thread. I am glad I did so, because a couple of my commentors mentioned the band Stiff Little Fingers, so I have my next post subject mapped out for me.

It's Time to Relax, You've Worked Your Arse Off

If you don't read Aunt Snow's blog, you are doing yourself a disservice. Aunt Snow has been waging a one-woman campaign against Beauty Deficit Disorder for the past five years. Anyway, her post yesterday had me pondering how terrible conditions are for Joe and Jane Schmo, who really just want to earn a decent living and have a little left over so they can enjoy themselves and provide for the education of their children. Instead, we have yet another factory in Asia collapsing and killing workers, we have a war on overtime pay here in the States, and we have a Congress which is doing everything but working on a jobs bill.

On the homefront, I had a long conversation with one of the IT guys (incidentally, the guy who trained me on my first day on the job before he transferred to the Main Office), and he was lamenting the fact that he'd have to take comp. time instead of overtime pay for working a big event this weekend. Myself, I'm doing okay, but a lot of my job satisfaction has to do with the fact that I work in a setting of incredible beauty, no matter which site I am assigned to. Reading Aunt Snow's post reminded me of one of my favorite uptempo sad songs, the Jam's Smithers-Jones, a melancholy bit of workaday social realism penned by the band's bassist Bruce Foxton (this video seems to be a post-Jam Foxton vehicle):





It's time to relax, now you've worked your arse off,
But the only one smiling is the suntanned boss.
Work, and work, and work 'til you die
There's plenty more fish in the sea to fry.


Here's an acoustic take on the number by Mr Foxton and some friends from other punk and new wave bands (including the inimitable Jake Burns from Stiff Little Fingers, a band which performed the song while Mr Foxton did his turn as their bass player.

Nostalgic for Nostalgia

This post is in response to a recent post by ZRM in which he wrote: Uh-oh. Looks like it’s gonna be an Alarm night before posting the video for one of my personal faves, Spirit of '76. I've referenced The Alarm in a couple of posts, but I'm in a nostalgic mood, so I'll revist my favorite Welsh band.

It's funny that, in his response to the comment that I'm expanding into this post, ZRM wrote:


I have always been much more affectionate toward the Alarm than, say, U2. U2′s social attitudes seem so much more like a posture, their Dublin working class background notwithstanding. Mike Peters and his band seemed more true in their expressions, if less artful.

I almost always go for passion over gormless skill. Shocking, is it not?


Which is eerily reminiscent of my brother Sweetums' characterization of the band: "The Alarm is kinda like U2, but just a little bit better." I've always felt that The Alarm never made it to the heights that U2 did because the Irish-American community in the U.S. is larger and more cohesive than the Welsh community here. Hell, much of my early championing of U2 was due to my perception of a shared heritage. Don't get me wrong, though, I love the Welsh, and have ever since discovering Lloyd Alexander's books. Anyway, The Alarm played a few big stadium shows back in the 80's and skirted superstar status before losing steam Rain in the Summertime still gets occasional airplay and I've heard the instrumental portion used as "bed" music.

Anyway, back in 2003, lead singer Mike Peters, who had successfully waged a struggle against cancer, formed a "reconstituted" Alarm with former members of Stiff Little Fingers and Sisters of Mercy and embarked on a whirlwind tour which saw the band playing three back-to-back-to-back weekly shows in New York and L.A. My high school friend J-Co picked up four tickets for each of the three shows at New York's Knitting Factory. J-Co and I attended all three of the shows, with a revolving cast of family and friends joining us.

Each night's performance was a tour de force, Mike Peters sang his heart out in the intimate Knitting Factory as if he were still doing big stadium tours. He knew he was playing to a friendly audience, and he had enough confidence in his fans to (in very ballsy fashion) surrender the mic to the crowd as they sang a chorus out loud. Luckily, somebody got footage from the 2003 concerts.

Here's an English version of Bastard-approved Gwerthoch Fi I Lawr Yr Afon:





Here's the classic Sixty-Eight Guns from the band's first LP (google the term, kids!):





Here's the poignant One Step Closer to Home:





While not footage from the 2003 tour, one of the emotional high points of the concert was when Mike Peters commemorated his friend Stuart Adamson, who had succumbed to chronic depression and took his life in 2001, by performing Stuart's signature song:





Besides his old material, Mike Peters performed new material which was extraordinarily well received:





For the record, I think my all time favorite Alarm song is Howling Wind, from the first album. The first line of the song still gives me goosebumps- "Love on this wasteland holds no dominion." Sheer poetry! Here's a version from the original lineup's farewell tour in 1991:





I composed this post in the pre-dawn hours at the tail end of a double overnight shift-I find myself in reverie... I am nostalgic for a 2003 nostalgia trip.

UPDATE: I can't believe I omitted the fact that, after all three shows, I got to hang out at the bar with Mike Peters, who is a hell of a nice guy. It was really nice to be able to shake his hand, thank him for writing a ton of music which was a large part of my adolescent experience, and have him thank me for my support. Mike Peters- definitely a GOOD GUY.

'Roids and Riots?

Watching the stomach-churning coverage of the violent situation in Ferguson, Missouri (scenes reminiscent of "Troubles" era Belfast- yeah, still on that SLF kick, or "intifada-era Gaza), I have to wonder if much of the overly aggressive police response can be attributed to 'roid rage. Sources as divergent as Police Chief Magazine and the Think Steroids website cite a 1991 article from the FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin concerning the abuse of anabolic steroids by police officers, the takeaway quote being:

“Anabolic steroid abuse by police officers is a serious problem that merits greater awareness by departments across the country.”

A simple Google search of the FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin archives reveals a bunch of items concerning police abuse of anabolic steroids.

I've always been fascinated by the topic of performance enhancement drugs, and I recall a conversation with an athlete who flat-out stated that everybody who reached a certain level of competition is using them. In the case of police use of performance enhancers, one reason oft cited is an escalating competition with "juiced" criminals (weight lifting in prisons is common enough to have passed into popular awareness, and itself is a result of escalating competition with other inmates for security)- prison inmates lift weights in order to intimidate and defend against other inmates, cops lift weights in order to defend against ex-cons. It could be likened to an arms (literally) race, if it were true... prison free weight gyms are largely a thing of the past, though the use of calisthenics and improvised weights still occur.

Another reason for anabolic steroid use is to bulk up to intimidating proportions in a quick, efficient manner (damn the consequences!). It's a lot easier to intimidate another individual when you're built along the lines of Gutboy Barrelhouse.

The links between anabolic steroid use and aggression need further study, and their synergistic effects of other drugs need to be explored as well.

That being said, every police officer involved in an act of aggression against an unarmed individual should immediately be placed on leave and testing for anabolic steroids should be conducted. The cost of random testing for anabolic steroids is prohibitive, but the cost of a post-incident test is warranted. If we can test guys who hit balls with clubs for steroid use, why can't we test guys who hit skulls with clubs?

Since I'm still on a Stiff Little Fingers kick, how about an appropriate song?





Law and order, they don't do what they oughta.

Someone Adapt this for Trump's Theme Song

Roy's latest column name dropped one of my all-time favorite bands, Belfast's Stiff Little Fingers. Needless to say, I've been on a big SLF kick for the past couple of days. With Donald Trump's campaign slogan being "Making America Great Again", I figure somebody could adapt SLF's song "Fly the Flag" as Trump's theme song:





Gimme a country that's red white and blue
Gimme the British way honest and true
Gimme the chance to be one of the few
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme

Gimme a kingdom where people are free
Free to do and free to be
Free to screw you before you screw me
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme

'Cause I'm alright
I'm alright, Union Jack
Fly the flag

Gimme a Britain that's got back the Great
A race of winners not cramped by the State
And only the helpless get left at the gate
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme


Substitute "U.S." for "Britain" and "Stars and Stripes" for "Union Jack", and you've got the perfect distillation of the GOP frontrunner's platform... the third verse is pretty much the GOP ethos in a nutshell.

Here's another great live version, from a performance in Germany... the spoken intro is great, and the band cleverly substitutes the "Deutschlandlied" for "Rule, Britannia!" in the bridge:





Somebody please adapt this song for Trump, that dumbass wouldn't even realize that it's a mockery of his campaign.

Hoping for Armistice

This being Veterans' Day, I could write another post about the need for a more compassionate policy for veterans who have returned from our recent (and not so recent) wars. This year, though, I wish to call attention to the fact that Veterans' Day was originally Armistice Day, a celebration of the end of the First World War. I'm hoping that NATO can move the withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan prior to the projected 2014 departure. It sure would be good to have a genuine armistice, an end to the long, pointless war. I'm not holding my breath, though.

As is typical, I'll post the video to Tin Soldier by Belfast's Stiff Little Fingers, an angry but not unsympathetic view of the young men who composed an occupation force from a member of the occupied populace.





All too often, young people join the military to escape from dim economic prospects, only to be used as pawns by policy makers who will never have to bear the burden of suffering that inevitably results from war. Here's hoping to an early armistice, and a rejection of the impulses that have led us, again and again and again and again, to war.

Meanwhile, Back in Yonkers

Today was a weird day. I woke up to a text message from my upstairs neighbor, informing me that a local jewelry shop and mom-and-pop pharmacist were broken into. She also sent me a cell-phone video, which I won't be posting because it could help pinpoint the location of the recorder, who took the video from a nearby apartment. The local coverage is pretty good, obviously the thefts were committed by professionals who knew what they wanted to grab (cash, jewelry, opiates). It did not occur, as ABC's headline indicated, 'in overnight Yonkers protests'. Thankfully, the actual coverage is much better, and our local city council member handled the situation well:


"This was not done by protesters, this was done by criminals, unfortunately. They came in, they looted a jewelry store, they went into the pharmacy. These people, who are business owners, people who, they've been closed for moths just to come back and have something like this done. So it's very, very sad."


The whole crime spree took under five minutes, with about a dozen men in a small convoy of cars hitting the area, smashing the glass pharmacy door and using a stolen SUV to ram through the jewelry store facade.

I combined errands with a bit of 'scouting', and spoke to some of the local merchants. Everybody stressed the idea that this was a crime of opportunity that had nothing (besides being timed to coincide with the police being stretched thin) to do with the local protests, which were peaceful. Sure, the guys who run the liquor store (I needed to replenish my Tullamore Dew supply) were boarding up, but nobody was freaking out. On a happy note, the local Chinese takeout place had reopened, so I bought some lunch and left a tip that they told me was too big ("No, you've been closed so long, I'm so happy to see you open.").

Again, everybody was cool about the protests, but then again, this is a heavily immigrant community, and a lot of the older folks remember The Troubles, so they're not the sort of people who are cool with the gas and 'rubber bullets' flying. As much as I love Stiff Little Fingers, I sure as hell don't like see my fellow US residents living through one of their songs:





This wouldn't have happened on a normal night, pre-civil unrest and COVID-19. Usually, with all of the bars on the street, there are a fair number of people out and about at 4:15AM.

Plans, Not Platitudes

Today being Veterans' Day, I imagine that politicians of all stripes will bend over backwards to participate in photo ops with current members of the military, and will spew meaningless platitudes about "honor" and "duty" and "service". The sad reality is that veterans are currently facing high unemployment and potential cuts in benefits. Additionally, the rate of suicide attempts among veterans is nothing short of alarming.

One of the most offensive developments of an offensive decade was the development of the "If you are against the war, you are against the troops" meme. Meanwhile, the horrible persons who flogged this meme were massive profits while placing soldiers in danger by cutting corners.

On a more personal level, two young veterans have been injured in incidents of police brutality while protesting the unjust economic conditions which are disproportionately affecting veterans.

I don't have a television, so I will be spared the spectacle of military personnel and veterans being used as props, while their genuine needs are being unmet, and the "props" will be abandoned on the 12th. That being said, I still find this sort of hypocrisy appalling.

I take this sort of thing personally- my two younger brothers are commissioned officers in the U.S. Army, and my brother Vincenzo is currently in the greater Kandahar metropolitan area (coincidentally, he's "pinning on" a new rank today). My baby brother, Gomez, returned from Afghanistan earlier this year. My brother-in-law is a commissioned officer in the Air Force. My family members aren't background players in some egotist's drama, to be paraded in front of... the largely working class kids who they lead into harrowing conditions are not toys for power-tripping sociopaths to play with. I'll sit out the kitschy displays of faux patriotism- the real test of one's devotion to the men and women who served their country is a continuing dedication to their well-being. Our society needs a plan to assist the veterans, enough with the platitudes.

Of course, this post wouldn't be complete without a scathing social commentary about the situation faced by young military personnel, sung by an empathetic member of an occupied populace... it's never inappropriate to blast Stiff Little Fingers' Tin Soldier:

Flag Day

I didn't see any of the Republican primary debate last night (no T.V., no masochistic tendencies), so I figured I'd put up a pretty generic post on flag day.

It's no secret that I am a proponent of soft power, I believe that American exceptionalism is true, but in a fashion which American right-wingers do not understand, and in a fashion that they constantly denigrate and undermine. American exceptionalism is rooted in democratic and egalitarian traditions that Republicans are trying to destroy. The classic American "rags to riches" story is becoming increasingly less likely. The American flag, once a symbol of freedom and enlightenment, has ceased to be a venerated symbol throughout much of the world.

One problem is that American foreign policy, both governmental and corporate have been pernicious both at home and abroad. Rather than raising the standards of living for people in developing countries, "free trade" policies have negatively impacted both foreign nationals and American citizens. While many of the deleterious effects of American (actually transnational corporate) trade policies are unseen by the average American citizen, certain effects are readily apparent, although the wrong people are the targets of the "man on the street's" hatred and fear. By not imposing our formerly high labor and environmental standards on our trading partners, we allow the poor working stiffs in those countries to be exploited, and we allow our own working stiffs to be pauperized. America has exported indentured servitude, and "Old Glory" has been substituted for a flag more appropriate for this wage-slavery.

Although it's a song about a different flag, sung by angry young provincials in an occupied territory, the song Fly the Flag by Stiff Little Fingers could very well have been sung about the American flag:




Substitute "U.S." for "British" and "Stars and Stripes" for "Union Jack", and you have a song which perfectly encapsulates the Randian/Reaganite policies which have undermined American prosperity at home and American prestige abroad:


Gimme a country that's red white and blue
Gimme the British way honest and true
Gimme the chance to be one of the few
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme

Gimme a kingdom where people are free
Free to do and free to be
Free to screw you before you screw me
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme

Cos I'm alright
I'm alright, Union Jack
Fly the flag

Gimme a Britain that's got back the Great
A race of winners not cramped by the State
And only the helpless get left at the gate
Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme


Of course, these policies could be reversed, if the political class in this country chose to put the needs of human beings over the desires of corporations. Unfortunately, I really don't see too many politicians who truly give a rat's ass about Joe Schmo and Jane Doe. Pity that, because I would rather have "Old Glory" be a symbol of human rights and fair play. As much as I love S.L.F., I'd rather people thought of George M. Cohan when they saw the American flag waving:

In Keeping With My Last Post

Via Raw Story, here's a video of an Irish senator and human rights crusader criticizing Israel's conduct in Gaza:





In the comments, a right-wing troglodyte had this to say:


you can trust those Irish to know whats going on in Israel...especially if theyre left wing and perceive something as right wing, cuz that's okay, hes not pro-this or pro-that, hes decidedly neutral, hell he even has some Israeli friends. His own political bias would never effect his opinion on anything, and well, hes a member of Irish Government, he must know whats going on and be really really smart!hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah

To which some bastard replied:

The Irish know all too well what damage occupation and sectarian violence can do to the societies on both sides of the conflict. If you don't see the parallels, that's your issue, not his.

The Irish people have had more than their share of political and sectarian violence, they are the perfect messengers for an anti-occupation, anti-violence cautionary tale. The Troubles/The Intifada/Israeli Bombing- the similarities are readily apparent to anyone not blinded by ideology or tribalism.

The U.S. government has just approved sending an additional $225 million to Israel to fund their "Iron Dome" defense system. Looks like I'll have to go back to the "Stiff Little Fingers" well... just file off the "serial number" of Each Dollar a Bullet, change the names, and it's as topical as it was when it was released:





I think I'm going to mosh until I cray.