art DT


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Our Gang



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Killing Kit

killing kit.png

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Our Gang


Robert Tasher

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The Future is…

The Future Is...

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Full Power Shiva


I walked down stone steps that led directly into a torrent of brown swirling water; the stairway was ancient, the steps cupped by eons of footfalls. The river looked to be half a mile across, burst and muddied, towing broken vegetation along with it. At its mid-point a treacherous channel foamed and boiled where the currents collided and enormous, prehistoric catfish with blind milky eyes rose to gorge on blackened bones and charred coils of flesh.

The swell had engulfed the crumbling sinks and gats that line the promenade. With the front impassable the only way across town was through a series of twisting and traversing passageways and tunnels, too narrow even for a rickshaw. Overloaded with pedestrian traffic this ancient barrio had become a midden. Deputations of the old and dying were sprawled in every available space. There they waited:beggars and proctors of beggars, disease-ridden, leprous, some partially knackered with stumps for arms and legs. Among them milled hoards of filthy children touting drugs of all sorts at westerners. Females of domestic reputation lounged upon balconies with faces gotten up in indigo and almagre peering from behind their fans with a kind of lurid coyness like transvestites in a madhouse.

As well as the increased load of people, a stinking menagerie of animals had been pushed upward by the flood. Cows blocked these paths entirely chewing on refuge, sacred and beyond reproach; rabid-looking monkeys with pudendae swollen and livid red, hung screaming and baring long yellow teeth; packs of stray dogs barked and barked; demonic-looking goats grazed on the excrement of other animals. A vicious snarl of flies fought constantly over the filth and the foul air was rarified by clouds of sickly sweet incense swung from censers inside temples of every denomination.

Tourists were being led among giant woodpiles assembled on the bank. Wood, split using metal pegs and sledgehammers, was weighed in huge sets of scales. The path was cleared for a group of men baring shoulder-high a stretcher fashioned from green lengths of bamboo strung together with twills of silvery tinsel. Resting on top was a body wrapped in white sheets. There was the tinkle of little deathbells amid the clamour as the funeral procession followed. A caravan of trundlecarts had gathered selling refreshments. The shroud and its carriage were laid upon a pile of wood and the men set about lighting it.

Flames feigned and licked about the body and its wrappings began to burn away. The face of the dead man appeared, eyes cooked, pearlescent like a baked fish. Tears spat forth from the sockets and bubbled away. Suddenly the enflamed body pitched forward as if alive and from a caesura in the head molten brains and blood exploded tearing the face apart. The crowed rocked. “Oh my God,” whispered an American. Gradually the lips burned away and it looked as if the dead face were grinning. Someone lifted the protruding legs and pushed them into the centre of the fire. This signaled the end of the ceremony; the crowd turned and dwindled. Below the bank the sacred river ran on in torrents, polluted by the living and the dead.

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Room 19


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Prelude to Zion


Prelude to Zion

‘We shall migrate to Palestine in order to constitute a majority here.
If there be need – we shall take by force;
if the country be too small – we shall expand the boundaries.’
David Ben-Gurion (1942)

How magnanimous of the British Government to broadcast to the world their suggestion, by way of the Balfour Declaration, that the Jews had a right to a homeland in Palestine. It certainly looked a thoroughly altruistic idea with more than a hint of humanitarianism; but then, political window-dressing usually does.

It should be remembered that Arthur Balfour was the British Foreign Secretary and was therefore well aware of the wider implications. Britain had seized Egypt and absorbed it into its Empire thus gaining control of the Suez Canal and the vital route to India, while enabling it to protect the West bank of the waterway.

The East bank however, was vulnerable to rising Arab nationalism and perhaps even to the French who occupied the Syrian territories and were manoeuvring to extend this rule to include Palestine.

Then just in the nick of time Chaim Weismann rode to the rescue like a biblical prophet, bearing Theodore Herzl’s Zionistic vision of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. There were no flies on Arthur who saw immediately the advantage of a pro-British territory to act as buffer and serve to protect the East bank of the canal, while simultaneously denying Palestine to the French.

Since WWI was at this time in process and the allies were desperate to bring America into the war it was also surmised that were the Zionists encouraged by this public announcement, the American Jewish lobby would put pressure on President Wilson’s government to abandon its neutral stance. Thus would the war come to a speedier end and the Zionist dreams soon fulfilled.

Weismann also had another perhaps less biblical card up his sleeve. Being a chemist he had, through his many scientific connections, managed to acquire the formula for the manufacture of Acetone; a substance used in the production of powerful high-explosives. Since America owned the patent for this formula and refused to release it to the British, Weismann’s knowledge gave him further clout and the deed was done.

And so now trucks belonging to the companies of rich Israeli businessmen transport goods (oil, food, medical supplies etc.) to the needy population of blockaded Gaza, where, at the border they are transferred to trucks belonging to the companies of rich Gaza businessmen, both of whom no doubt make a nice profit on the transaction.

And so business as usual. As Blair broadcast after 9/11: ‘Stay calm and keep shopping’.

The accusing finger points here; and there; and eventually everywhere. The Israelis and the Palestinians; the Protestants and the Catholics; the Shias and the Sunnis; the settlers and the Amerindians; the Australians and the Aborigines; the Belgians and the Congolese; the British and the ‘fuzzy-wuzzies’ and on and on.

The common denominator of all these is of course that they are also, without exception, what are known as ‘Human Beings’. But as Lord Byron said: ‘Mankind is full of hatred for each other, to expect or hope for anything better is the mark of the visionary’.


It’s a can of worms, and even the worms have worms!



Dave Tomlin
Pic Nick Victor




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Quo Vadis? The Bible’s Real Message About Animals

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• “Behold, I set before you the way of life and the way of death.”~ Jeremiah 21:8

• “There are two ways: the way of life and the way of death, and the difference is great between the two.”~ Didache (or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles) 1:1

• “See, I have set before you this day Life and good, Death and evil.”~ Deuteronomy 30:15

• “I call heaven and earth to witness (to) you this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life.” ~ Deuteronomy 30:19

• “There are those who rebel against the light, who are not acquainted with its ways, and do not stay in its paths.” ~ Job 24:13

• “You shall not kill.” ~ Exodus 20:13 & Deuteronomy 5:17

• “And God said, “Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food. And to every animal of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food.” And it was so. And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.” ~ Genesis 1:29-31

• “And this shall be the sign for you: …eat what grows of itself, and…what springs of the same…sow and reap, and plant vineyards, and eat their fruit.” ~ Isaiah 37:30

• “There is severe discipline for him who forsakes the Way.” ~ Proverbs 15:10

• “Did not Moses give you the law? Yet none of you keeps the law.”~ John 7:19

• “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfil them.” ~ Matthew 5:17


The Bible is a hugely influential book. Every year over a 100 million new Bibles are either bought or given away. The whole of Western Civilization has been built on its precepts. The world’s most powerful religions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam all share its so-called ‘Old’ testament in common. Even secular humanists are unconsciously influenced by its thinking.

But we have been woefully misled. The words which we now take to be God’s own, which we now treat as ‘gospel,’ are largely those of the Bible’s false, man-made path: the Death path.

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Underneath an appalling, heavy layer of self-serving violence and corruption, one which was first written in by the Hebrew priests and their scribes, who, after a long exile in pagan Egypt, and later in pagan Babylon, had become addicted to flesh-eating and thus to animal killing and blood sacrifice (the poor excuse of ‘offering’ to God His own creatures, and atoning for human sins with innocent animal blood) – there is a very different message indeed.

The Way of Life is the Way of God, the Way of the prophets, and the Way of Jesus. It is the Way of love, of kindness, of compassion, of nonviolence, of the sacredness of all life – and, crucially, the Way of vegetarianism. It is the Way of “manna,” of “bread” and of “milk and honey” – as opposed to the false way of blood and flesh, of exploitation, death and suffering.

The Bible, as we have inherited it, is, in fact, a battle ground in which the voices of Death have tried – very successfully and for over 2000 years – to drown out and bury the voices of Life.

The Death path has had – and still exerts – a powerful hold over us, and it has caused – and continues to ‘license’ – the most immense suffering for animals. 60 billion conscious, sentient beings lose their lives to the meat-industry alone – every year. Another 100 million are ‘sacrificed’ in our laboratories, dying in often agonizing ‘experiments’ and deprived of everything but their most basic needs. This is just the tip of the bloody ice-berg. In the fur trade, in circuses, through hunting and other blood ‘sports,’ and in our everyday treatment even of our animal companions, the animals continue to suffer.

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It is not my intention to give the Death path any more of an opportunity to influence us, but we need to see its violence and understand the roots of our animal abuse and exploitation, of false, man-made ‘dominion,’ of our subjugation and denigration of our fellow, sentient kin – if we are ever to choose differently.

It was certainly not God who decided:

“Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth…fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” (Genesis 1:26, 28)

The priests, in fact, cast God in their image! The Great Creator, the compassionate Father, does not violently “subdue.” In Hebrew this word kavash actually means to stamp on the neck of your conquered enemy – hardly an act of the God of Love, and hardly something God wanted us to do to His beloved creatures!

It was certainly not God who demanded:

“All that opens the womb is mine, all your male cattle, the firstlings of cow and sheep. The firstling of an ass you shall redeem with a lamb, or if you will not redeem it you shall break its neck.” (Exodus 34:19-20)

“…he shall bring his offering of turtledoves or of young pigeons. And the priest shall bring it to the altar and wring off its head, and burn it on the altar; and its blood shall be drained out on the side of the altar; and he shall take away its crop with the feathers, and cast it beside the altar on the east side, in the place for ashes; he shall tear it by its wings…And the priest shall burn it on the altar, upon the wood that is on the fire; it is a burnt offering, an offering by fire, a pleasing odor to the LORD.” (Leviticus 1:14-17)

“When a bull or sheep or goat is born, it shall remain seven days with its mother; and from the eighth day on it shall be acceptable as an offering by fire to the LORD.” (Leviticus 22:26-27)

Or who inspired such terrible words as these:

“Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.” (Proverbs 20:30)

It was not God’s will that Solomon should ‘dedicate’ the Jerusalem temple with a blood-bath massacre of His beloved creatures:

“And King Solomon and all the congregation of Israel, who had assembled before him, were with him before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered.” (1 Kings 8:5)

“Then the king, and all Israel with him, offered sacrifice before the LORD. Solomon offered as peace offerings to the LORD twenty-two thousand oxen and a hundred and twenty thousand sheep. So the king and all the people of Israel dedicated the house of the LORD.” (1 Kings 8:62-63)

Or that David should hamstring horses:

“And David took from him a thousand and seven hundred horsemen, and twenty thousand foot soldiers; and David hamstrung all the chariot horses.” (2 Samuel 8:4)

Or that Samuel should take the life of a nursing baby, in an abominable move against the miracle of newborn life itself:

“So Samuel took a sucking lamb and offered it as a whole burnt offering to the LORD.” (1 Samuel 7:9)

It was not Moses, the Man of God either, who had given the people the Ten Commandments (a reminder of God’s simple, nonviolent Law from Genesis) – and who had tried so hard to bring the people back to God’s Way of manna, of bread and vegetarianism in the wilderness – who advocated:

“When the LORD your God enlarges your territory, as he has promised you, and you say, ‘I will eat flesh,’ because you crave flesh, you may eat as much flesh as you desire.” (Deuteronomy 12:20)

Moses’ authority was appropriated, and his good name was used to command an extra 603 sacrificial “ordinances.” But Moses’ own message couldn’t have been more different:

“…You shall not eat…blood…Be sure that you do not eat…blood; for…blood is…life, and you shall not eat…life with…flesh. You shall not eat it…You shall not eat it; that all may go well with you and with your children after you, when you do what is right in the sight of the LORD.” (Deuteronomy 12:16, 23-25)

“And you shall remember all the way which the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments, or not. And he humbled you…and fed you with manna.” (Deuteronomy 8:2-3)

“For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing forth in valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey, a land in which you will eat bread without scarcity, in which you will lack nothing.” (Deuteronomy 8:7-9)

“Keep all this commandment…by loving the LORD your God and by walking ever in his ways…lest innocent blood be shed in your land…and…the guilt of bloodshed be upon you.” (Deuteronomy 19:9-10)

“The LORD said to Moses, “Say to the people of Israel, You shall eat no fat, of ox, or sheep, or goat…on no account shall you eat it. For every person who eats of the fat of an animal…shall be cut off from his people. Moreover you shall eat no blood whatever, whether of fowl or of animal, in any of your dwellings. Whoever eats any blood, that person shall be cut off from his people.”…This is the law…which the LORD commanded Moses on Mount Sinai, on the day that he commanded the people of Israel… in the wilderness of Sinai.” (Leviticus 7:22-27, 37)

“You shall not eat any flesh with…blood in it!” (Leviticus 19:26)

“But I have said to you, ‘You shall inherit…a land flowing with milk and honey.’” (Leviticus 20:24)

It was not Isaiah who wrote the words:

“The LORD has a sword; it is sated with blood, it is gorged with fat, with the blood of lambs and goats, with the fat of the kidneys of rams…Wild oxen shall fall with them, and young steers with the mighty bulls. Their land shall be soaked with blood, and their soil made rich with fat.” (Isaiah 34:6-7)

It was not Noah, “a righteous man, blameless in his generation” who “walked with God” (Genesis 6:9) who sacrificed God’s creatures straight after the Flood; the very creatures whom God had been at pains to save two by two in order to regenerate the world:

“And of every living thing of all flesh, you shall bring two of every sort into the ark, to keep them alive with you; they shall be male and female. Of the birds according to their kinds, and of the animals according to their kinds, of every creeping thing of the ground according to its kind, two of every sort shall come in to you, to keep them alive.” (Genesis 6:19-20)

It was the priests and their scribes who re-wrote Genesis (and the whole of sacred scripture, during and after the Babylonian exile: Ezra playing the lead role,) who suddenly manifested seven pairs of ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ animals in Genesis 7, when God had never spoken of any of His creatures as ‘unclean’ – to make way for their sacrificial cult. Just two of each would have meant the mass extinction of all ‘sacrificial’ animals: doves, pigeons, sheep, goats and cattle! It was the priests and their scribes who wove into these beautiful verses, the following terrible words:

“Then God said to Noah, “Go forth from the ark, you and your wife, and your sons and your sons’ wives with you. Bring forth with you every living thing that is with you of all flesh -birds and animals and every creeping thing that creeps on the earth – that they may breed abundantly on the earth, and be fruitful and multiply upon the earth.” So Noah went forth, and his sons and his wife and his sons’ wives with him. And every beast, every creeping thing, and every bird, everything that moves upon the earth, went forth by families out of the ark. Then Noah built an altar to the LORD, and took of every clean animal and of every clean bird, and offered burnt offerings on the altar. And when the LORD smelled the pleasing odor, the LORD said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of man.” (Genesis 8:15-20)

“The fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every bird of the air, upon everything that creeps on the ground and all the fish of the sea; into your hand they are delivered. Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you; and as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything. Only you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood. For your lifeblood I will surely require a reckoning; of every beast I will require it and of man.“ (Genesis 8:2-5)

God goes on to make His Rainbow Covenant with all His creatures – human and non-human and He repeats no less than 7 times: “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between me and all flesh that is upon the earth.” (Genesis 8:17)

Humanity’s Original Sin, which had brought such a terrible dualism to God’s earth, the knowledge not just of Good, but also of Evil, had nothing whatsoever to do with an apple! Adam and Eve ate from the ‘tree’ of life, from the fruit of the womb! Adam, it seems, killed a fellow being and Adam and Eve were thus banished from God’s peaceful Garden:

“He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way to the tree of life.” (Genesis 3:24)

The priestly scribes went to great lengths to remove this fact from the original story. They placed the blame squarely on Eve (for which women have been punished ever since) and they wove in, for example, the false story about Abel’s pleasing blood sacrifice: “the firstlings of his flock and of their fat portions” (Genesis 4:4) and God’s rejection of Cain’s vegan, arable offering, to bury the important words (which they also moved to their current position in Genesis 4):

“And the LORD said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground. And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand.” (Genesis 4:10-11)

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As St Francis of Assisi knew well, the animals are our brothers and sisters.

God’s Commandments – and especially “You shall not kill,” which was always a cross-species edict – were turned on their head:

“And the LORD said to Moses, “Say to Aaron and his sons, and to all the people of Israel, This is the thing which the LORD has commanded. If any man of the house of Israel kills an ox or a lamb or a goat in the camp, or kills it outside the camp and does not bring it to the door of the tent of meeting, to offer it as a gift to the LORD before the tabernacle of the LORD, bloodguilt shall be imputed to that man; he has shed blood; and that man shall be cut off from among his people…If any man of the house of Israel or of the strangers that sojourn among them eats any blood, I will set my face against that person who eats blood, and will cut him off from among his people(!) For the life of the flesh (of living beings) is in the blood; and I have given it for you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that makes atonement, by reason of the life.” (Leviticus 17: 1-4, 10-11)

The corruptions were used to make way for a path that not only endorsed mass animal-killing and flesh-eating, but war and murder, the violent conquest of other peoples, slavery, rape, misogyny, racism, homophobia – and capital punishment for anyone who dared challenge the power of the priests!

Beautiful pacifist visions, like Isaiah’s of God’s restoration of peace on earth, for example:

“He shall judge between the nations, and shall decide for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” (Isaiah 2:4)

– were turned into the very opposite; the words falsely woven into the message of the prophets:

“Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruning hooks into spears; let the weak say, “I am a warrior.”” (Joel 3:10)

“The LORD is a man of war.” (Exodus 15:3)

God’s true prophets dedicated their lives to turning this terrible, blood tide:

“With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” He has showed you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6: 6-8)

“I hate, I despise your feasts, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and cereal offerings, I will not accept them, and the peace offerings of your fattened animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; the melody of your harps I will not listen. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. Did you bring to me sacrifices and offerings the forty years in the wilderness, O house of Israel?” (Amos 5: 21-25)

“What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? Says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed animals; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of he-goats.” (Isaiah 1:11)

“He who slaughters an ox is like him who kills a man; he who sacrifices a lamb, like him who breaks a dog’s neck…These have chosen their own ways, and their soul delights in their abominations.” (Isaiah 66:3)

“The earth lies polluted under its inhabitants; for they have transgressed the laws, violated the statutes, broken the everlasting covenant.” (Isaiah 24:5)

“He will gather the lambs in his arms, he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young…Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?” (Isaiah 40:11, 21)

“They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, says the LORD.” (Isaiah 65:25)

“There is no faithfulness or kindness, and no knowledge of God in the land; there is… lying, killing, stealing…and murder follows murder. Therefore the land mourns, and all who dwell in it languish…the beasts of the field, and the birds of the air; and even the fish of the sea are taken away…with you is my contention, O priest. You shall stumble…My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I reject you from being a priest to me. And since you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children…They feed on the sin of my people; they are greedy for their iniquity.” (Hosea 4:1-8)

“The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron; with a point of diamond it is engraved on the tablet of their heart, and on the horns of their altars.” (Jeremiah 17:1)

“The word of the LORD came to Jeremiah: “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh.” (Jeremiah 32:26-27)

In the Psalms and the Proverbs (which were not the sacrificial David’s or his temple-building son, Solomon’s at all – though they were later assigned to them and re-written by the scribes to support the blood cult), they tried desperately to teach God’s powerful pro-Life message again, in a simple, memorable form:

“The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.” (Psalm 145:9)

“Open your mouth for the dumb, for the rights of all who are left desolate.” (Proverbs 31:8)

“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a fatted ox – and hatred with it.” (Proverbs 15:17)

“Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter. If you say, “Behold, we did not know this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who keeps watch over your soul know it, and will he not requite man according to his work? My son, eat honey, for it is good.” (Proverbs 24:11-13)

“The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the LORD.” (Proverbs 15:8)

But most of the prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, Micah, Zechariah, Joel, Habakkuk and Ezekiel, for example,) were murdered – a fact of which Jesus was all too acutely aware:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!” (Matthew 23:37)

Tragically, Paul completed what the priests and their scribes had started. Paul worked for the sacrificial temple. It was on the high priest’s orders that he went to Damascus to hunt down the nonviolent Nazarene Jews who had maintained God’s true Way (and in the face of extreme danger, given the power of the temple: a key reason why Jesus spoke in parables.) Paul was their biggest persecutor. And, having never heard Jesus teach, having never personally met him, and as a determined meat-eater and animal killer, he and the Bible’s later Pauline-inspired writers and redactors, would go out of their way to destroy Jesus’ vegetarian, pro-animal message.

Paul’s letters – which make up the bulk of the so-called ‘new’ testament (Jesus came to fulfil the law, not to abolish it – and his teachings in relation to Paul’s are comparatively marginalized) – are full of anti-animal sentiment and contempt for ethical, Nazarene vegetarianism. Here are some classic examples:

“Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience.” ~ 1 Corinthians 10:25
“All things are lawful for me…Food is meant for the stomach and the stomach for food.” ~ 1 Corinthians 6:12-13
“Is it for oxen that God is concerned? Does he not speak entirely for our sake?” ~1 Corinthians 9:9-10
“The weak man eats only vegetables.” ~ Romans 14:2

Paul, his followers, and the Pauline Church’s “correctores,” were so successful in this that we are now convinced that Jesus ate fish, that he participated in sacrificial Passovers, that he sent demons into the poor Gadarene swine, and that he generally showed very little concern for animals at all. But this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Jesus came, as a true son of God, as a true prophet, as God’s Messiah, to restore right relationship between all of God’s creatures on earth – human and non-human. He came to bring earth back to its original state of unity and peace, of shalom: as it had been in the Beginning, when there was no killing and all beings lived in harmony. He came to restore God’s Kingdom: “on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). He came to end the false rule of the priests, so that God’s will, and not man’s will, would finally be done once more: “Thy will be done.” (Matthew 6:10) He came to destroy the bloody, sacrificial cult once and for all.

In his 4th century Panarion, the Pauline bishop Epiphanius of Salamis rages against the Nazarene ‘heretics’ (later known as “Ebionites” after their flight to Pella when the Jerusalem temple was destroyed; something for which the Nazarenes were blamed) – for preserving Jesus’ crucial words: “I am come to do away with sacrifices, and if you cease not sacrificing, the wrath of God will not cease from you.” (Panarion 30.16, 4-5)


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All four gospels record an important incident, the most important of Jesus’ mission, in fact – though all of them go out of their way to marginalize it too. Luke, Paul’s disciple, reduces it to two brief verses and cuts out all mention of the animals; John places it at the very beginning of Jesus’ mission, when it was, in fact, the culminating event that cost him his life; in Matthew and Mark, the accounts are turned into just another teaching. We have come to know it euphemistically as ‘The Cleansing of the Temple.’ We have been taught that Jesus was only concerned about the temple becoming a house of trade – and that he was angry with the money-makers.

But those traders were selling animals for sacrifice! They were trading in blood money. Jesus’ act was the first act of animal liberation.

Notably, it was the only time during his ministry where he became so incensed with rage at the sheer injustice and wickedness of what he was witnessing, that he became physically violent – over-throwing the tables where men were selling caged and bound animals and driving them – and importantly the animals – out of the temple, with “whips and cords.” His compassionate and courageous act of resistance cost him his life – as he knew it would do.

“And Jesus entered the temple of God and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you make it a den of robbers.” (Matthew 21:12-13)

The “robbers” were those who were stealing the animals’ God-given lives – the priests.

“But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the (little ones) crying out in the temple…they were indignant…And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, ‘Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast brought perfect praise’?” (Matthew 21:15-16)

Those who were “crying out” were not human children (despite what the corrupters tried to suggest with their additions), they were the terrified, young animals: many of them as young as eight days old, and still “sucklings.” Jesus describes the voices of God’s beloved creatures as “perfect praise.”

“And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons; and he would not allow any one to carry anything through the temple.” (Mark 11: 15-16)

Jesus won’t allow anyone to carry anything through the temple – no animals, and no sacrificial vessels, because he is taking direct action – and stopping the sacrificial cult in its tracks!

“The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers at their business. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all, with the sheep and oxen, out of the temple; and he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; you shall not make my Father’s house a house of trade.” (John 2:13-16)

“And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and sought a way to destroy him.” (Mark 11:18)

Jesus, the Nazarene, paid the ultimate price for his compassion and his goodness, as he knew he would have to. He was not from the sacrificial house of David at all, and he was not from “Nazareth” either: a place which didn’t even exist in his time.

‘Nazareth’ was a Pauline ruse to obscure Jesus’ nonviolent vegetarianism.

The word Nazarene (Nazarēnos and Nazōraios in Koine Greek) comes from the Hebrew word: ne•tser which means “branch.” Jesus was from the true vine, from the world’s beautiful, original religion. He was the living embodiment of God’s shalom.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch…that bears no fruit, he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15:1-2)

“Verily I say unto you that if the truth had not been erased from the book of Moses…God would not have committed the Gospel to me; seeing that the Lord our God is unchangeable, and hath spoken but one message to all men.” (The Gospel of Barnabas: Ch. 124.)

“Philip found Nathan’a-el, and said to him, “We have found him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus the Nazarene, the son of Joseph.” (John 1:45)

The Messiah was from the house of Joseph, (and not the usurping house of Judah,) as both the nonviolent Jacob and the nonviolent Moses had both predicted he would be. Joseph who was “separate from his brothers” (Genesis 49:26, i.e. different from them, nonviolent) – and “prince among his brothers” (Deuteronomy 33:16) was the rightful heir to God’s restored Kingdom.

It is no coincidence that Jesus was born in an animal’s eating trough – a manger.

It is no coincidence that a dove, the bird of the holy Spirit – and the bird most sacrificed by the temple – should have alighted on him when John baptized him in the Jordan (in living water, not blood).

It is no coincidence that Jesus chose to prepare for his mission in the wilderness and that the animals were with him: “And he was in the wilderness forty days; and he was with the wild animals; and the angels ministered to him.” (Mark 1:13)

It is no coincidence that he said to his disciples: “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15) – or that he should have taught that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” (Luke 3:6)

It is no coincidence that Jesus’ parables so often involved animals, and that they were so positive about animals:

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God” (Luke 12:6)

“Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” (Matthew 10:16)

“Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his ass from the manger, and lead it away to water it? … As he said this, all his adversaries were put to shame.” (Luke 13: 15, 17)

“And he said to them, “Which of you, having…an ox that has fallen into a well, will not immediately pull him out on a sabbath day?”” (Luke 14:5)

“He said to them, “What man of you, if he has one sheep and it falls into a pit on the sabbath, will not lay hold of it and lift it out?…it is lawful to do good on the sabbath.” (Matthew 12:11-12)

“There was a rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Laz’arus, full of sores, who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table; the dogs came and licked his sores.” (Luke 16:19-21)

“Another parable he put before them, saying, “The kingdom…is like a grain of mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”” (Matthew 13: 31-32)

We need to see verses like the following in a completely new light:

“It is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.” (Matthew 18:14)

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones.” (Matthew 18:10)

“And whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water, because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he shall not lose his reward.” (Matthew 10:42)

“And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’ Then He will say to those, ‘Depart from me, you cursed.” (Matthew 25:40-41)

“Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

…He who blasphemes against the holy Spirit will not be forgiven.” (Luke 12:6, 10)

“…whoever blasphemes against the holy Spirit will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come.” (Matthew 12:32)

To blaspheme against the holy Spirit, the life-force itself, the breath of life – is to kill. Killing was always the ultimate blasphemy against the Creator. Jesus had come to end the sacrificial cult and to restore God’s true Law and God’s peace on earth again. It is high time we heard his beautiful message and with fresh ears.

To kill our fellow beings, to take their lives so that we can eat their flesh is – and always was – nothing less than an abominable rejection of God, their Creator – of Life itself.

If there are those who are still not convinced, we have only to remember what happened to those who craved forbidden animal flesh in the wilderness:

“And the whole congregation of the people of Israel murmured against Moses…in the wilderness, and said to (him), “Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate…to the full; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” (Exodus 16:2-3)

“Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving; and the people of Israel also wept again, and said, “O that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt for nothing…but now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.” (Numbers 11:4-6)

God taught them a powerful, one-off lesson, one which pained Moses terribly because of the animal deaths which were incurred thereby. He did what every good parent does when their child craves what is unhealthy and forbidden.

“…the LORD will give you meat, and you shall eat. You shall not eat one day, or two days, or five days, or ten days, or twenty days, but a whole month, until it comes out at your nostrils and becomes loathsome to you, because you have rejected the LORD who is among you.” (Numbers 11: 18-20)

“While the meat was yet between their teeth, before it was consumed, the anger of the LORD was kindled against the people, and the LORD smote the people with a very great plague. Therefore the name of that place was called Kib’roth-hatta’avah, because there they buried the people who had the craving. ” (Numbers 11:33-34)

The Way of Life is the Way of Peace. It is the Way of inter-species harmony, as it was in the Beginning. As the ancient book of Job reminds us:

“Hear my words, you wise men, and give ear to me, you who know; for the ear tests words as the palate tastes food. Let us choose what is right; let us determine among ourselves what is good.” (Job 34:2-4)

“You will be delivered through the cleanness of your hands.” (Job 22:30)

“If you set your heart aright, you will stretch out your hands toward him. If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in your tents.” (Job 11:13-14)

“For according to the work of a man he will requite him, and according to his ways he will make it befall him.” (Job 34:11)
“Will you keep to the old way which wicked men have trod?” (Job 22:15)

“Agree with God, and be at peace; thereby good will come to you. Receive instruction from his mouth, and lay up his words in your heart.” (Job 22:21-22)

“…to depart from evil is understanding.’” (Job 28:28)

sue coe 5

Meat-eating, the Bible tells us explicitly, is “evil.” When we return to God’s original arable, plant-based diet, we will come back into Life again. And the result will be a much happier world, one of unity:

“You…shall not fear the beasts of the earth. For you shall be in league with the stones of the field, and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with you.” (Job 5:22-23)

And one in which nothing is lacking:

“He turns a desert into pools of water, a parched land into springs of water. And there he lets the hungry dwell…they sow fields, and plant vineyards, and get a fruitful yield.” (Psalm 107:35-37)

The World to Come is indeed a future world, but it is not a transcendental world. It is planet earth restored. The renewal of God’s Kingdom – where God’s will and not man’s will, will finally be done. We need to be active agents in that restoration. The choice is ours: Life or Death? Quo vadis?


Heidi Stephenson is a writer and animal campaigner. Her forthcoming book is Back To The Garden: The Nonviolent, Vegetarian Bible.

Illustrations: Sue Coe





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Our Gang





Robert Tasher

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Keep It Fluffy – Road Protests


Film and Photography by Adrian Arbib 

solsbury hill

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Maybe I could draw how I feel?

Roddy McDevitt


Roddy McDevitt



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Culture jamming

Culture jamming2

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Sara Rahbar-War Series-all is hidden within me, and i open my mouth, but not a word- 2010 -44x61 inches- textiles
all is hidden within me, and i open my mouth, but not a word

Sara Rahbar-War Series-An Armful of freedom, A fistful of lies-2011- 84x58 inches-mixed media
An armful of freedom, a fistful of lies


Sara Rahbar-War Series-comfortably numb- 2011-38x24 inches-mixed media
Comfortably Numb


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Contentment is happiness-2012- Mixed Media-64x50 Inches-Contentment is happiness



Sara Rahbar-War Series-echos of muffled gunshots-2012-52x17 inches-mixed media
echos of muffled gunshots


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Everything around me has turned to ash-mixed media-45x23 Inches-2012
Everything around me has turned to ash


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Freedom finally arrived, but it arrived in chains- 2010-76x39 inches-mixed media

 Freedom finally arrived, but it arrived in chains


Sara Rahbar-War Series-From a distance you glistened and shown-war series-mixed media-24x15 3-8 inches-2013
From a distance you glistened and shone 


Sara Rahbar-War Series-God Bless america land that i love -2010- 39x22 inches
God bless America land that I love


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Har jaye keh mikhan maro mibaran ( they take us where ever they want us to go)- 41x28 inches-2010-mixed media
Har jaye keh mikhan maro mibaran
(they take us where ever they want us to go)


Sara Rahbar-War Series-I love you so much it breaks my heart- 42x28 inches -2010 -mixed media
I love you so much it breaks my heart


Sara Rahbar-War Series-I want to shelter you-29x18 inches- mixed media- 2013I want to shelter you


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Irreversible violence-2012-mixed media-41x52 Inches
Irreversible Violence

Sara Rahbar-War Series-leyli jan (dear leyli)-54x28 inches-2010-mixed media
leyli jan – dear leyli


love left as easily as it came, darkness fell
and there was no one left to blame

Sara Rahbar-War Series-Over come me sweet oblivion, I am ashamed, Humbled and unstable- 2011- 90x22 inches-mixed mediaOvercome me sweet oblivion, i am ashamed,
Humbled and unstable


Sara Rahbar-War Series-Restless Violence-2011 24x15 1-2 inches
Restless Violence

Sara Rahbar-War Series-Solace-mixed media-25x15 3-8 inches-2013



Sara Rahbar-War Series-Take me home- mixed media-35 ½ x 64 ½ inches- 2013

 Take me home


Sara Rahbar-War Series-The scar of your kiss-2011-70x41.5 inches-mixed media
The scar of your kiss

Sara Rahbar-War Series-Those silent and snowy days, I watched it all melt and melt away-76x64 inches- 2010-mixed mediaThose silent and snowy days, i watched it all melt
and melt away


Sara Rahbar-War Series-We fit together like fingers making a fist- mixed media- 24x151-2x3 inches-2013
We fit together like fingers making a fist


Sara Rahbar-War Series-You take my breath away-2012-Mixed Media-86x86 Inches
You take my breath away




Sara Rahbar   


- Swarming (solo) Carbon 12 in Dubai

A HISTORY (art architecture design, from the 80s to now) 
Musee national d art moderne centre Pompidou, Paris 
July 2, 2014 – March 2016 


-War Imagery in Women’s Textiles:
An International Study of Weaving, Knitting … 

By Deborah A. Deacon, Paula E. Calvin 

-Confronting the Clash: The Suppressed Voices of Iran by Sinan Ziza and Sepa Sama 
is a collection of essays, interviews, articles, poems, photographs, and art works, compiled between 2012-2013, focused on the subject of Iran. The book functions as a cross-section through the geopolitical, cultural, historic, artistic, and intellectual forces operating within Iran, within the Iranian public, and within the global Iranian diaspora today: 

The first book to examine the practice of Sara Rahbar 
Essay by Catherine Grenier, adjunct director of Centre Pompidou, 
and an interview with Elaine W. Ng Editor and Publisher of Art Asia Pacific magazine 

Featuring two new series, War & Confessions of a Sinner 
Interview with Gallerist Kourosh Nouri & Artist Sara Rahbar 
- See more at:













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Stop the War International Demos for Gaza

Gaza Marches 1

marches 2b

March 3

marches 5

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William Blake – Lost Supper


william blake lost supper


Performed by Ian Smith
Costume design: Alex Rigg
Music: The Kate Young Band
A Film by Florencia Garcia Chafuen

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No Today Pls.

2014-08-04 14.30.27I used to work in the Earl Percy, on Ladbroke Grove, back when it was an Irish boozer. The line up at the bar was always the same, always changing. Death Row they called it. A row of toothless old men who nursed golden ales and whiskeys with no mixers. Every now and then, one of them would die. Their seat would be taken by someone from the snug. I would feed them minute steaks and cabbage and potatoes, peppered with mouse poo.

My favourite punters were two London boys. Both in their late 40s, both still living with their mums. They’d be outside the pub at 11am, when I arrived to open up, and would drink until closing. They’d sell shit coke at the end of the bar, mostly to people who didn’t drink there. At midnight, they’d leave, to go to work. Both were foreman on the railroad repairs being done on the line out of London from Paddington. They’d work there until 5am, go home, get 5 hours kip, and start again, bright and early.The same today, everyday. Forever + ever, Amen.

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Our Gang














Robert Tasher



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The Data Double


In the digital realm. It could be said that we are cyborgs , a flesh technology information amalgam, an interface of technology and corporeality comprised of those”surfaces of contact “or interfaces between organic and non-organic orders, between life forms and webs of information.

This is a particular amalgamated “us”.

Surveillance is productive of another , a new type of “us”, one comprised of pure data, The data double, data persona, a constituted additional self.

Walter Benjamin the literary critic and writer, recognised the earliest prototypes of surveillant technologies, drifting through the city, investigating and observing modern life on the streets of Paris. He saw how the development of photography helped undermine his anonymity, which was central to the drift . He saw that when captured by photography , the image gave each face a single name and so a single meaning.

This data double is the constitution of an additional self not a true representation of the person , yet has effects on the daily embodied life of that person. In many circumstances the data double may take precedence over the embodied person.

The idea of the data double can go beyond the bureaucratic system of modern surveillance in significant ways, bodies are abstracted from their territorial settings, to be made visible to others.

Processes are systematic, methodical and automatic. Surveillance relies on machines rather than humans to make and record observations. At first the human body is not approached to be moulded punished or controlled, first the body must be known by being broken down into flows of data.

These discrete data flows are then, striated or guided captured re-assembled in scattered locations.

Drug testing straits flows of chemicals, photography captures flows of light waves and lie detectors align and compare assorted flows of respiration, pulse and electricity the body itself broken down for the purposes of observation.

The body is made more mobile and comparable.

The data is guided to centres of appropriation where flows can be captured, compared and rendered alike.

These data flows exist before surveillance, beyond our normal range of perception, they are fixed temporally and spatially by machines in these scattered centres.

This data is coordinated and compared for access and resources, services and power.

Unknown to the referent, the embodied self.

The data double is frozen in codes.

  A single meaning.

Kieron Livingstone

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Solution for Israel-Palestine Conflict


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Tabloid Centenary

This gallery contains 2 photos.

zforget sml

Nicola Lane



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No Glory – No More War Event

Gaza 4 August







Parliament Square, London Monday August 4th 6.30pm

no glory.png





1) No Glory – No More War Event 4 August

Monday 4 August is the 100th anniversary of Britain’s entry into World War One. The No Glory in War campaign and anti-war groups around the country will be holding commemorative events to counter those like David Cameron and Michael Gove who think the First World War should be either ‘celebrated’ or ‘glorified’.

In London the No Glory in War campaign will stage an event in Parliament Square at 6.30pm, just before the official commemoration, evoking the real horror of World War One, demanding that nothing like it happens again. We will be celebrating resistance to war one hundred years ago and today.

Speakers and performers at the No Glory – No More War event include actors Samuel West and Kika Markham. MP Jeremy Corbyn will read Kier Hardie’s anti-war speech of 1914. Writer AL Kennedy will read Carol Ann Duffy’s Last Post in honour of Harry Patch, the last surviving soldier from the First World War trenches, who insisted until the day he died in 2009 that war was ‘legalised mass murder’.

Also speaking are World War II Normandy veteran Jim Radford, historian Neil Faulkner and Kate Hudson from CND. Music will be performed by Sean Taylor and Gunes Cerit.

The No Glory in War campaign is encouraging everyone who is attending to bring white poppies and other anti -war symbols to make sure this anniversary is marked in the only way appropriate – with a loud call for an end to foreign wars.
No Glory – No More War
Monday 4 August 6.30pm
Parliament Square London
100 years since Britain declared war
Join No Glory on WW1 centenary
Wear white poppies. Use Twitter hashtag #NoMoreWar

2) August 2014 is International WW1 Poetry Month

Poetry has become the centre of a propaganda battle over the meaning of the First World War. David Cameron and Michael Gove want the poetry that espouses the “British values” of honour, loyalty and patriotism dominate, rather than the anti-nationalist poems of Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen and others who focus on the futility and inhumanity of war. Regardless, it is British writers who will dominate the World War One memorial events in the UK.

This ignores the war poetry from France, Germany, Russia and elsewhere that is, says Owen Clayton, of equal quality and sometimes better. No Glory will be publishing a poem a day through the month of August from around the world, with India, Senegal and Russia already featuring. See our Poetry and Spoken Word list to access all the poetry on the site.

3) World War I and the shooting down of flight MH17 over Ukraine

The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand 100 years ago set in motion a chain of events leading to world war. Matt Carr asks if the shooting down of flight MH17 could do the same today? The No Glory website is regularly updated with articles like this which relate the “world to end all wars” 100 years ago with todays era of perpetual war.

4) Upcoming Events

No Glory is planning a number of interesting events in the Autumn, including a debate on the First World War and its causes at the Imperial War Museum, with historians Huw Strachan and Neil Faulkner. We will publish details as soon as we have them on the No Glory website 


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We go to the gallery: New book.



new book 3

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Collagistes Collected 17

rose mat 1

rose mat 3

rose mat 4

rose mat 5


Rose Mat
Collagistes Collective



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World ‘Sports’ results










World ‘Sports’ results

Israel 10…………….Hamas 1.
Russia 10…………..Ukraine nil.
Syria 10………………Isis 8.
Al-Qaeda 3000……U.S.A. nil.
Taliban 5…………….U.S.A. nil.
Bush/Blair 10……..Iraq. nil.

Extra time for injuries.
Admission Free (including the old, sick and babies in arms)
We wish to thank our sponsors  – Heckler & Koch (Germany)
                                               Rafael Advanced Defence Systems (Israel)
                                               B.A.E  Systems (U.K)
                                               Northrop Corp  (U.S.A) And many others.


D. Tomlin
Art Nick Victor



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War Planes

adrian jagura
Collagistes Collective: Adrian Jagura

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Push and Pull


nl 01

nl 02


nl 03 nl 04

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Are They Here?

Sebastian Sebene










Are they here?
Barking voices,
Continuos memorable quantity,
Shredding nightmares
Chased forever.

Shapeless dreams 
They call emotions
Cross off-beat
Each rhythm.

Alienating comrade
Mixed in nights,
Yelling, jerked up 
Far away, 
Thumped out time zoned
Blue eyes.

Unexpected truce, 
Are we there then?

In our immediate glory
Of Impure white,
Grey afternoon

Animalistic fragment
Of the other,
Sober dream, 
Tick-tock-ing free

Compulsive, oblivious
Careless in ambition,
Nurtured guide dog;
Soundless ally to any crisis.

What stares in silence,
What screams
In the soliloquy of the other
While Tick-tocks tick-tack
Surrounding darkness?

Tick-tock, tick-tock 

The inescapable
Nauseating sound,
Lights off.


Sebastian Sebene
Art Nick Victor




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Ubu Roi

Ubu Roi


Director: Jean-Christophe Averty

Jean Bouise … Père Ubu
Rosy Varte … Mère Ubu
Hubert Deschamps … Capitaine Bordure
Henri Virlojeux … Le roi Venceslas
Micha Bayard … La reine Rosemonde
Johnny Monteilhet … Boleslas
David Gafsou … Ladislas
Didier Haudepin … Bougrelas
Armand Meffre … Général Lascy
Bernard Musson … Stanislas Leczinski
Jocelyn Canoen … Jean Sobieski
Denis Palos … Nicole Renski
Gabriel Jabbour … Le tsar Alexis
Michel Muller … Palotin Giron
Abdel Hanmi … Palotin Cotice

The plays of Alfred Jarry are considered by many to be the first dramatic works of the theatre of the absurd. They are credited with a great number of literary innovations and are seen as major influences of the dada and symbolist movements in art. Ubu Roi (translated as King Ubu and King Turd) is Jarry’s most famous work. Ubu Roi eliminates the dramatic action from its Shakespearean antecedents and uses scatological humor and farce to present Jarry’s views on art, literature, politics, the ruling classes, and current events.

Ubu Roi first saw life as schoolboy farce, a parody of Felix Hebert, one of Jarry’s teachers. Co-authored with his friend, Henri Morin, the skit was transformed into a marionette play through several versions. In 1891, Jarry published a story, “Guignol,” reminiscent of the Punch and Judy performances popular throughout Europe, which showcased a vile and murderous Pere Ubu. A two-act version of Ubu Roi with songs for marionettes, Ubu sur la Batte, appeared in print in 1906.

The opening night of December 11,1896, caused quite a stir according to Roger Shattuck in his work The Banquet Years. Actor Firmin Gernier stepped forward to speak the opening line — “Merdre!” (translated as “Shifter!”). The audience erupted in pandemonium. It took nearly fifteen minutes to silence the house and continue the play. Several people walked out without hearing any more. Fist fights broke out in the orchestra. Jarry supporters shouted, “You wouldn’t understand Shakespeare either!” Those who did not appreciate Jarry’s attack on theatrical realism replied with variations of le mot Ubu.

The stage manager startled the audience into silence by turning up the house lights and catching several screaming patrons standing on their seats and shaking their upraised fists. Gernier improvised a dance and the audience settled back down long enough for the action to proceed to the next “merdre,” when the audience exploded once again. The interruptions continued throughout the play until the curtain fell. One audience member, a stunned and saddened William Butler Yeats, remarked “[W]hat more is possible? After us the Savage God.”

In his book Jarry: Ubu Roi, Keith Beaumont detailed three accusations that were made against Ubu Roi by spectators and critics in the aftermath of the outrageous performance. The first focused on the play’s “alleged” vulgarity and obscenity. Secondly, perhaps in view of the political atmosphere of the time, critics condemned the play and its performance as the theatrical equivalent of an “anarchist” bomb attack and as an act of political subversion. The third accusation leveled against the play and its performance was that they in no way constituted a “serious” piece of literature or of theater but rather a gigantic hoax.

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OX Zen

The ten Ox Herding pictures come from China around 1100 AD. They are numbered and believed to be sequential. They are part of the Buddhist/Taoist tradition. Little more is certain.
In the light of Lao Tzu’s condemnation of literary truth it is impossible for them to be set of instructions. In the light of Hui-neng’s denial of the existence of mind it is equaly ill-advised to view them as the record of a psychological journey. All that can be said with certainty is that any attempt at self-improvement is roundly condemned by the most astounding intellects of the Zen tradition. Possibly this is a good moment to give up Zen.
But, if you are determined to persist and have abandoned any notion of spiritual gain or loss then being familiarity with these ten images may provide you with innocent pleasure.

ox pic  01

ox pic 02ox pic 03ox pic 04

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Wrath’s Child



Envy Fury Wrath Jealousy Pride Greed Avarice Rothschild Neocon Rage Devil Envy Lust Rape Fury Wrath Roth…

Rothschild invades Palaestinia, the Holy Land.


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Heathcote Williams Poetry Readings

American Porn

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Middle East Peace Envoy to the rescue

blair middle east

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Celebrating 100 years

world war 1 celebration 5

world war tower

world war tower 2

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Why I Vowed Not to have Children in Gaza

Gaza 31 b

Israel said the ground invasion into Gaza would be limited, which makes you think that the tanks would only advance a few meters in. That was the case for the first two days. Little did we know that Israel planned widespread ethnic cleansing and massacres. Israel’s goal was to wipe out an area, and the people who reside in it, too.

Things started escalating at around 10pm on Saturday. Israeli drones swooped down lower and started buzzing loudly. Tanks advanced. Apache helicopters and F-16 warplanes bombed and also provided cover. And then the eastern Gaza City neighborhood of Shujaiya started getting hit hard.

Non-stop shelling. I heard it all from my house. I couldn’t even keep up with the number of explosions and artillery rounds.

Hundreds and hundreds of families evacuated, leaving their homes and lives behind, seeking refuge in any calmer place, even though nowhere is safe in Gaza.

They walked in the streets, holding nothing but their kids, trying to escape death. Some even climbed into the shovel of a bulldozer. Many were just wandering in the streets with no destination in mind or nowhere to go.

Huge ball of fire

Many ended up gathering at al-Shifa hospital, only to see the bodies of their relatives, neighbors and friends arrive.

I don’t know how to describe that night. I am at loss for words and out of breath. Gaza looked like a huge ball of fire as Shujaiya was being burned.

All of Gaza was under darkness. Power outages have reached twenty hours per day, or even more. We could hear the merciless attacks on Shujaiya, people screaming and fires burning.

All we had was a radio to let us know what we already knew but wanted to deny. We kept holding onto the last thread of hope until we had to face the truth: the people of Shujaiya were being butchered.

Every night we count down the hours, waiting for dawn to start breaking through, lighting up the sky and pumping Gaza with sun. But not that night. We were hoping the sun would take its time so we could delay seeing what the light would reveal.

We expected what had happened, but what the light showed was beyond devastation.

Beyond natural

We couldn’t recognize Shujaiya. It was like a tsunami of bullets had struck the area. Or a blazing earthquake. Something natural but disastrous. But what really happened was beyond nature or even humanity. It was like the 1948 Nakba all over again, with scenes similar to the 1982 Sabra and Shatila massacre. There were flashbacks to the Cast Lead massacre of five-and-a-half years ago, too.

Civilians flee from Gaza's eastern Shejaiya districtCivilians flee from Gaza City’s eastern Shujaiya neighborhood where more than seventy people were killed and hundreds injured by Israeli shelling on 20 July. (Ashraf Amra / APA images)

The Red Cross proposed a humanitarian ceasefire in Shujaiya so that medics could pull out the dozens of dead and hundreds of injured. Israel refused the ceasefire at first, then accepted it, and then broke it by bombing the area and opening fire on medics and ambulances.

Medics managed to pull out 72 dead Palestinians, their bodies splayed across the streets. More than four hundred injured people were taken to the hospital. Medics say that the numbers of the dead and injured may increase dramatically.

International and local journalists, medics and doctors were crying in pure disbelief. They reported seeing a massacre that can’t be unseen.

I guess we are all scarred for the rest of our lives.

Pictures of devastation and destruction were circulating from that morning on. But what was very painful, to the extent that I stopped breathing, are the pictures of parents carrying their dead and injured children while they wept in a way that could move mountains.

When will Palestinians be recognized as people? As humans? As civilians?

When will our children have human rights and be safe?


Self defense?

Can you imagine the devastation of a father who is holding his child dead in his hands? Can you imagine his loss? And how ashamed and guilty he feels for not being able to protect his child?

That’s why I vowed to never, ever to have children here. I will not bring them to this world and fail to protect them. I will not watch my children die. It is too painful watching other children die and their parents weep; I can’t handle going through it myself.

How could the world consider wiping out a whole area and its residents as “self defense” and “righteous?” How can children be considered “militants” and “terrorists?”

The mosque nearby started calling for a donation campaign, only to make me feel more powerless. What can you give to those who lost their loved ones, their houses and a life they once knew?

I wished I could give them my heart or ease their pain in any way, but I couldn’t, so I joined a trivial donations campaign. How can money or material things ever make up for the loss of your child?

I spent hours feeling numb, paralyzed, breathless and stunned. I couldn’t shed a tear.

And then, tears started flowing. So abundantly. They were very hot, and burned my cheeks.

On Tuesday, the Gaza-based Ministry of Health said that more than 600 Palestinians have been killed and 3,700 injured since the beginning of Israel’s ongoing offensive against the besieged Gaza Strip, including the 72 killed and 400 injured in the Shujaiya massacre.

People were showered with tank shells while they slept at home in their beds. People either fled or died under the rubble.


Farewell to humanity

As I bid farewell to my humanity and soul today, and mourn them, I bid farewell to the dead Arab nation and Arab leaders, but without mourning. Human rights organizations, as well — I bid them farewell; they have always failed to protect human rights. Reports and documents do not protect innocent children.

I also bid farewell to all aid agencies in Gaza, for using the blood of Palestinians as a propaganda stunt to collect millions in “donations.” I bid farewell to international humanity.


Omar Ghraieb is a journalist and blogger from Gaza. His blog is, and you can follow him on Twitter @Omar_Gaza.



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“We lost contact with the plane.” Really?











July 24, 2014

Today—Air Algerie Flight 5017, from Burkina Faso to Algiers crashed, according to “officials.”

Some of these officials state contact with the plane was lost an hour after takeoff.

You can probably remember similar statements about other doomed flights: lost contact. Wasn’t that the case on 9/11?

“Lost contact” appears to cover all available means of communication. Nothing on radar screens. Radio inoperative. No transponder signals picked up.

In this day and age, with a blizzard of technology available to track and surveil, what is going on?

Commercial jets have only one transponder? Isn’t it possible to embed dozens of GPS-type devices at various points in the craft? And wouldn’t those devices report a plane’s location, no matter how far it strayed off course?

Even underwater? Isn’t the US Navy able to keep tabs on its own submerged submarines?

So either we are looking at an international scandal, in which modern tracking technology is not being fully applied to commercial planes…or officials are lying when they say: lost contact.

Assuming cutting-edge tracking tech is, without public knowledge, being used on modern commercial jets, do hijackers have the ability to jam all signals emanating from the planes? If so, passengers would like to know.

“Attention, passengers. Before boarding this flight, you should realize only one transponder is being deployed. Although the device, plus radar, plus radio will help track your location, there are dozens of other devices we could use to make sure we know where you are. Unfortunately, the manufacturer has not yet installed them. Consult the 800 number on your ticket. Feel free to contact the manufacturer and make inquiries.”

If the NSA can simultaneously tap every phone in America, somehow I think they can track a giant jet, if they want to. Unless perhaps, these planes are still using a primitive communication apparatus from the 1950s.


Jon Rappoport
Graphic: Claire Palmer

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at




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LSD testing on Britsh Marines 1964

lsd testing

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Greetings citizens from around the world, we are anonymous.

Today, we claim victory against the fascist state of Israel.

A strong faction within anonymous has taken down over one thousand Israeli sites.

Attacks are still continuing, and are growing rampant by the day, and the cyber aggression against the Zionist state are stronger than ever before. We are calling upon the entire anonymous collective, and its hidden factions, to keep attacking Israel’s cyberspace, and to always be cautious on the sites you attack, and the tools and equipment you use to leak or disrupt.

We need to show Gazans and Palestinians that they are not alone against this horrific evil.

To Israel: We will keep attacking you, and exposing your lies and crimes against humanity until you propose peace for once. Until then, anonymous and other groups will keep attacking your pathetic wall of a cyber-security. We will be forced to unleash our entire legion against your servers, thus banishing you from the internet.

Yet, we must stress, heavily, that this is not an attack on Jews, or the religion of Judaism, in fact, many Jews from around the world are siding themselves with Palestine, and not, Israel.

This is an all out attack against Zionists, and their corrupt ideology, and the systematic killing apparatus they use to suppress an under-developed location.

Operation Save Gaza, engaged.

We are anonymous.
We are legion.
We will never forgive.
We will never forget.
Expect us.


Greetings world we are anon-ghost.
this is an urgent call for all hackers, human rights organisations, activists all around the world, to unite again, and start campaign against Israel, share what is really going on there, expose their terrorist activity to the world. the act of launching rockets from Gaza sector to Israel is an acceptable and normal reaction against those pigs, that’s call resistance and not terrorism, israhell is never existed its only Palestine, it’s our home. if you are a hacker, activist, a human right organisation, share, hack israel website, and expose to the world their crime, show to the world how much blood in their hands, bloods of innocent children and women.
we will never remain silence against israhell war activity, anonymous collective, all hackers team will join this operation inchallah, and we will be the cyber resistance, the cyber shield, the voice for the forgoten people. the voice of Palestine. fight for the right, do something, where ever you are, what ever you can do, join the cyber intifada. on 11 july 2014, israhell, you better be prepared.
operation save Gaza…engaged.

We are : Mauritania Attacker – Virusa Worm – AnonxoxTn – Tak Dikenal – Younes Lmaghribi – Mauritania K!ll3r – V0RT3X – Dr.SaM!M_008 – BillGate – RudeAt Localhost – Pr3d4T0r – Chahid Injector – X-Wanted – X-ASS4S!N – PhObia_PhOneyz – Mauritania InjeCtor – Donnazmi – Black Cracker – Mster Tito – Extazy007 – M-c0d3r – DarkR00T – haxOr trojAn – Hamzah Uygun – TheXvirus – Hellion – CoderSec – Mrlele – HusseiN98D – Predator – Mr.Ajword – TheGame Attacker – xIdontknow – rummykhan – Hani Xavi – Chahid Injector – Samir inject0r


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Jewish Voice for Peace


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‘The bargepole was an extremely long device used in the days of canals when the bargee encountered obstacles and tight bends which might otherwise snag their narrow-boats. Also applied to ward off other barges which might venture too closely.

The bargepole may also be useful when, failing all else, (Marriage counselling, relationship therapy etc.) the instrument comes for obvious reasons into its own.’

The Mister

Smith, a man of dubious qualities, has acquired a new girl-friend. He is much enamoured of her but already has doubts about the relationship as at times he finds her somewhat difficult.


The scene is the foyer of a large hotel, a scattering of people occupies a row of comfortable chairs against a far wall amongst which sits an attractive young woman. Suddenly the door to the street opens and Smith enters, his overcoat is unbuttoned and he looks a little dishevelled. Casting his eye around the room it falls upon the young woman and he walks over and stands in front of her.

‘Christine,’ he says.
The woman looks blankly up at him and then quickly away.
‘Christine,’ says Smith again, but the girl looks a little upset. ‘I don’t know you,’ she says. ‘Leave me alone.’
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and people sitting around her give the young man hostile looks.
‘Look Christine,’ says Smith. ‘We arranged to meet here.’

‘What?’ The girl is now getting really upset. ‘Go away,’ she says angrily. ‘I don’t know you and if you don’t leave me alone I will call the management.
Smith is getting frustrated.
‘It was only yesterday,’ he says, trying to be reasonable. ‘We were on a bus and we arranged to meet — here.’
‘I never go on buses,’ says the girl. ‘Please leave me alone.’
‘It was the number 31,’ says Smith. ‘Yesterday.’
‘I told you, I never go on buses,’ says the girl, she looks doubtful for a moment and then… ‘Well… maybe I was on a bus yesterday.’
Yes,’ says Smith excitedly. ‘It was the 31.’

The girl begins musing to herself. ‘But where was I going?’ she murmurs. ‘Where was I going?’
‘You were going to Chelsea,’ says Smith. ‘And we arranged to meet — here.’
But the girl shakes her head. ‘Just leave me alone,’ she says.
‘Look,’ says Smith. ‘Why are you here?’
She looks blankly at him. ‘Why are you sitting here?’ Smith asks again.

The girl frowns a little in concentration. ‘I’m here to…’ she says, still struggling with the question. ‘To… to … meet somebody,’ she says at last.
‘Yes,’ says Smith eagerly. ‘Now who are you supposed to meet?’
The girl is really trying hard now. ‘I’m here to meet somebody called… called…Smith?’
‘Yes,’ says Smith. ‘That’s me. I’m Smith.’

She looks at him with a puzzled frown. ‘Smith?… Smith?…’ And then her face lighting up: ‘SMITH!’
‘Yes, yes,’ says Smith rubbing his hands together with delight.

‘Now, what film are we going to see?’


Dave Tomlin
Art Nick Victor


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What Stays?

what stays2











What stays?
If not the sound of past emotion,
Silences in rooms.

A familiar breath,
Unresolved anger,
Our maverick selves,
Less than we did but more than ever.

Melody is wind
Now, today, hereafter,
Temporarily indisputable.

A fading siren
Now more distance,
Not alone,
Is it time yet?

Imposing clouds
Little lights,
Not mine.
Bullied Where I am
beyond myself,
In someone else’s life.

In a moment,
Release Of anguish,
Presence, then mind.

Sacred spectacle of nights,
Who’s there?
I’m seen in dirty windows.
What’s left to entertain?
A staring child looking at the man.


Sebastian Sebene
Collage: Claire Palmer

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Impossible codes

MitchMitch Davis

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Our Gang




Robert Tasher



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Mainstream Press on Gaza

gaza breaking news

gaza breaking 2

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Effects of LSD on Troops 1958



with thanks to Malcolm Mc Neill

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 descendant 3








This is ours now, we own it
The guilt of the world gave it
You are forgotten now, leave
We claim all right

We will beat you into a corner
One with no exit, no space
We will take your root and bough
And eat the fruit thereon

How dare you strike at us with your slingshots
For you’re no David and we’re no Goliath
Once again we will leave your carcasses
To the birds of the air.

Written by Francis de Aguilar©2014
Collage: Claire Palmer

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Holocaust No. 2


by Latuff

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Urgent Call from Gaza Civic Society

Palestinian relatives mourn over the body of Mahmud al-Sewati during his funeral

We Palestinians trapped inside the bloodied and besieged Gaza Strip call on conscientious people all over the world to act, protest and intensify the boycotts, divestments and sanctions against Israel until it ends this murderous attack on our people and is held to account.

With the world turning their backs on us once again, for the last four days we in Gaza have been left to face massacre after massacre. As you read these words, over 120 Palestinians are dead now, including 25 children. Over 1,000 have been injured including countless horrifying injuries that will limit lives forever –- more than two thirds of the injured are women and children.

We know for a fact that many more will not make it through the next day. Which of us will be next, as we lie awake from the sound of the carnage in our beds tonight? Will we be the next photo left in an unrecognizable state from Israel’s state-of-the-art flesh-tearing, limb-stripping machinery of destruction?

We call for a final end to the crimes and oppression against us. We call for:

Arms embargos on Israel, sanctions that would cut off the supply of weapons and military aid from Europe and the United States on which Israel depends to commit such war crimes;
Suspension of all free trade and bilateral agreements with Israel such as the EU-Israel Association agreement;
Boycott, divestment and sanctions, as called for by the overwhelming majority of Palestinian civil society in 2005
Without pressure and isolation, the Israeli regime has proven time and time again that it will continue such massacres as we see around us now, and continue the decades of systematic ethnic cleansing, military occupation and apartheid policies.

We are writing this on Saturday night, again paralyzed in our homes as the bombs fall on us in Gaza. Who knows when the current attacks will end? For anyone over seven years old, permanently etched on our minds are the rivers of blood that ran through the Gaza streets when for over three weeks in 2009 over 1,400 Palestinians were killed, including over 330 children.

White phosphorous and other chemical weapons were used in civilian areas and contaminating our land with a rise in cancers as a result. More recently 180 more were killed in the week-long attacks in late November 2012.

This time what? 200, 500, 5,000? We ask: how many of our lives are dispensable enough until the world takes action? How much of our blood is sufficient? Before the Israeli bombings, a member of the Israeli Knesset Ayelet Shaked of the far-right Jewish Home party called for genocide of the Palestinian people.

“They should go, as should the physical homes in which they raised the snakes,” she said. “Otherwise, more little snakes will be raised there.” Right now nothing is beyond the murderous nature of the Israeli State, for we, a population that is mostly children, are all mere snakes to them.

As said Omar Ghraib in Gaza, “It was heart shattering to see the pictures of little boys and girls viciously killed. Also how an elderly woman was killed while she was having her iftar at Maghreb prayer by bombing her house. She died holding the spoon in her hand, an image that will need a lot of time to leave my head.”

Entire houses are being targeted and entire families are being murdered. Early Thursday morning the entire al-Haj family was wiped out — the father Mahmoud, mother Bassema and five children. No warning, a family targeted and removed from life. Thursday night, the same again, no warning, five more dead including four from the Ghannam family, a woman and a seven year old child amongst them.

On Tuesday morning the Kaware family did get a phone call telling them their three-story house would be bombed. The family began to leave when a water tank was struck, but then returned with members of the community, who all came to the house to stand with them, people from all over the neighborhood.

The Israeli jets bombed the building with a roof full of people, knowing full well it was full of civilians. Seven people died immediately, including five children under 13 years old. Twenty-five more were injured, and eight-year-old Seraj Abd al-Aal succumbed to his injuries later that evening.

Perhaps the family was trying to appeal to the Israeli regime’s humanity, surely they wouldn’t bomb the roof full of people. But as we watch families being torn apart around us, it’s clear that Israel’s actions have nothing to do with humanity.

Other places hit include a clearly-marked media vehicle, killing the independent journalist Hamed Shehab, injuring eight others, a hit on a Red Crescent rescue vehicle and attacks on hospitals which caused evacuations and more injuries.

This latest session of Israeli barbarity is placed firmly in the context of Israel’s inhuman seven-year blockade that has cut off the main life-line of goods and people coming in and out of Gaza, resulting in the severe medical and food shortages being reported by all our hospitals and clinics right now.

Cement to rebuild the thousands of homes destroyed by Israeli attacks had been banned and many injured and ill people are still not being allowed to travel abroad to receive urgent medical treatment which has caused the deaths of over 600 sick patients.

As more news comes in, as Israeli leaders give promises of moving onto a next stage in brutality, we know there are more horrors yet to come. For this we call on you to not turn your backs on us. We call on you to stand up for justice and humanity and demonstrate and support the courageous men, women and children rooted in the Gaza Strip facing the darkest of times ahead. We insist on international action:

Severance of diplomatic ties with Israel
Trials for war crimes
Immediate international protection of the civilians of Gaza
We call on you to join the growing international boycott, divestment and sanction campaign to hold this rogue state to account that is proving once again to be so violent and yet so unchallenged.

Join the growing critical mass around the world with a commitment to the day when Palestinians do not have to grow up amidst this relentless murder and destruction by the Israeli regime.

When we can move freely, when the siege is lifted, the occupation is over and the world’s Palestinian refugees are finally granted justice.

ACT NOW, before it is too late!

Signed by:

Palestinian General Federation of Trade Unions
University Teachers’ Association in Palestine
Palestinian Non-Governmental Organizations Network (Umbrella for 133 orgs)
General Union of Palestinian Women
Medical Democratic Assembly
General Union of Palestine Workers
General Union for Health Services Workers
General Union for Public Services Workers
General Union for Petrochemical and Gas Workers
General Union for Agricultural Workers
Union of Women’s Work Committees
Pal-Cinema (Palestine Cinema Forum)
Youth Herak Movement
Union of Women’s Struggle Committees
Union of Synergies—Women Unit
Union of Palestinian Women Committees
Women’s Studies Society
Working Woman’s Society
Press House
Palestinian Students’ Campaign for the Academic Boycott of Israel
Gaza BDS Working Group
One Democratic State Group

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Secret Love Poem











Everyone likes to have a secret person
Of whom no one else knows a thing
For they only exist in their imagination,
But with them they’re having a fling.

They may not even live in this century,
They may not have ever been born –
An ideal that’s fleshed out from fantasy,
Who’s customized for the love-lorn.

They’re Ishtar; they’re Aphrodite;
They’re a timeless Helen of Troy;
They’re Alexander conquering the world;
They’re an orgasmotronic toy-boy –

An earth angel who’s beyond good and evil
Who doesn’t give a fig for morality,
With an hypnotic beauty hinting at the truth
Of worlds hidden beyond this reality.

Amused to be an unwitting muse,
They dance in and out of vision –
A trick by which you’re happily fooled
Into living life to please a magician.

Everyone has to have a secret someone,
Someone with whom they’re in love:
A crystal someone who can sing as they soar
And turn what’s below into what’s above.

Heathcote Williams
Illustration: Elena Caldera 



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Messages from Gaza










GazaJewsagainstSiegeGaza 2








JVP New Yorkers take our message to the streets in solidarity with Gaza

Dear Angela,

This morning, we had hoped to wake up to news of a ceasefire.  Instead, the unrelenting attack on Gaza continues. Over 187 Palestinians and one Israeli have been killed. 1,300 Palestinians and 15 Israelis injured.

Israel announced this morning that it would accept a unilateral ceasefire, but the terms were actually a continuation of Israel’s ongoing war on civilians—a continued blockade of Gaza, continued extrajudicial assassinations, continued imprisonment of Palestinians without charge, and continued occupation. And with no guarantee Israel wouldn’t violate the agreement as they have on numerous occasions in the past.

Three times in the last six years, Israel has conducted extraordinarily lopsided operations against the people of Gaza, and each time the civilian population has paid a major price.  Even with some of the most sophisticated protection in the world, the fearful experience of rockets falling on Israel means that Israelis and the world pay attention during these escalations.

But they largely ignore the fact that the people of Gaza, who have no protection whatsoever, have been living under an unacceptable state of siege for the last 7 years. And that the Palestinian people as a whole remain stateless, and have been living under a brutal military occupation for 47 years.

We will continue our efforts to respond to the current situation (please keep up to date here) while keeping in mind that when the bombs stop falling, Israel’s decades-long assault on Palestinian human rights will continue. 

We will redouble our efforts to address the long-term causes and solutions.

While we monitor the situation, below are a few pieces, mostly from the last 24 hours, that we have found useful. We hope you will read them and share them with friends, family, and community.

·       from IMEU: FAQ on Failed Effort to Arrange Ceasefire Between Israel and Hamas.

·       from 972mag: What Does Israeli Acceptance of “Ceasefire” Really Mean?

·       from Leftern Wall: Facing the Massacre With Eyes Shut

·       from Electronic Intifada: Urgent Call from Gaza Civil Society: Act Now

·       and the Occupy Judaism statement on the possible ceasefire


With hope for better days ahead,
Cecilie Surasky
Deputy Director 



Wed, 23 Jul 2014 9:51

I want civil society in Israel if possible to make some actions, demonstrations.  Because at the end of the day they are mothers – mothers and parents on both sides, who are suffering.  Both the Palestinians or the Israelis they’re suffering, and such suffering should be stopped as soon as possible.

John Kerry came last night to Cairo and met with Sisi, and with Ban Ki-Moon, but I’m not too optimistic.  But if the United States wants to put some pressure on all parties, I think a ceasefire could be possible within two or three days, insha’allah.

Now both parties Israel and Palestine have declared a missing soldier – on the Palestinian side they announced his name and number.  Those people in Gaza, they said they couldn’t give any details for free.  The Israelis want to know whether he’s alive or dead.  Palestinians said yes we have him but we won’t give you any information for free.

On my side, at the personal level, why doesn’t Israel make a small initiative:  why not say if you just give us some details, some information about Shaul Oron, we’ll free some women prisoners, for humanitarian and trust-building purposes… then let this soldier talk to his family, if he’s still alive, something like that.  That’s my personal initiative.  Step by step we can try to bridge the gap, until we all sit around a round table for serious discussion.

Israel hasn’t learned from its mistakes, and their leaders should leave the political game because chalas, it’s over.  They didn’t get the message, they didn’t learn from the previous failures and games.  They should just leave political life.

In the ceasefire, there’s a humanitarian face.  The siege should be permanently lifted on the Gaza Strip.  Borders should be opened just like borders are for the rest of the world.  Like any human being, we should have access to leave when we like, and the ability to go back to our homeland whenever we like, with no restrictions.

Let’s put a ceasefire into place: have some witness from large countries like the United States, Japan, the European Union.  Now I’m speaking about normal borders – free access, like the rest of the world, I’m not talking military stuff.  So we can make sure we can have some procedures to prevent any parties from bringing in weapons or military stuff.  What about civilians, what about the traders, the patients, students?

You know – I have three sons and one girl studying abroad.  They’re on summer holiday right now.  They’re stuck in Jordan, the girl is stuck in Istanbul in Turkey, they can’t come back.  So what’s the problem with them?  They’re nothing – no threat.  They spent the whole academic year waiting for the summer to join their families.  Now they’re stuck there, they don’t have any money, they’re very frustrated, they’re following Gaza news on the TV.



Sun, 20 Jul 2014 9:23

The Hamas wants to die rather than to give up.  The civilians – now the Israelis put more pressure – massacre after massacre.  In the eastern buffer zone of Gaza.  And the people there won’t leave – they’d rather die in their homes.  All those text messages, leaflets from the skies, phone calls asking the families to leave.  But they chose to stay.  Because in Gaza now in other places, it’s not much safer, simply.  And there’s almost no difference between life and death here now.  So we don’t care, whether to live or die, because it’s the same.

There’s no electricity, water is only three hours every three days.  Lack of medical supplies – the hospitals do not have the capacity, you know, to deal with the huge numbers of injured people.

How can we sleep?  We don’t of course.  Last night – the tanks were shooting the whole night.  And all the day there’s bombs and drones, and F16s.  And what do you call the ships shooting from the sea?  The naval military ships.  Bombarding the coast.  It’s from the ground, from the sky, from the sea, it’s everywhere.  Imagine how women, how mothers can deal with this situation?  The heaviest was last night.  I haven’t slept properly now for weeks.  Sometimes one hour, sometimes three hours…

Frustrated, depressed, traumatised… you know for me as a father, when I want to try to sleep, my legs shake.  I have never been to this situation before.

We need the Americans to start understanding what’s going on, and stop sending military assistance to Israel.  We send a message to the world to stop the Occupation.  It’s an ugly word, the whole world is fed up with this ugly word, occupation.  It’s chalas, we’re fed up, it’s too much.


17 July 2014 23:54

Dearest Angela,
Thank you for asking about us. Quickly, last night, it was the most fearful one, the house of our neighbour has been destroyed, I was just coming from the shop and 70 meters before reaching home, a BIG bombing/explosion took place. I could not able to see any thing close to me, glasses, pieces of demolishing, steel pieces thrown every where. Any how, around 20 women and children came to our house seeking a safe place to hide. Ive start using my experience managing the crises during emergencies with the women and children. Ive asked my son Abed to get us some food from the shop as part of Palestinian hospitality to the families came to our house but the shop was closed and the man told my son are you crazy coming to the shop on the 12:00PM after mid night. So, my wife just cooked what little stuff we had and served the families and stayed a wake until 8:00 AM in the morning. I tried to see what has happened last night and saw the awful and horrible pictures of the destruction.
The problem in Gaza that we don’t know who is who and whether this man is targeted or not this is the problem which means that you could die any time!!!

Sorry Angela for my English just before the electricity cut.

Warmest regards,

Updates from ‘M’ in Gaza to Angela Godfrey-Goldstein in Jerusalem 


Date: July 13, 2014 at 5:20:02 AM EDT
Subject: Hello from Gaza

Dear Nancy Dear Bill and Dear Don,
How are you all , we hope that you’re doing fine Inshallah.
We’re writing now and on the 7th day of horror , collective punishment and humanistic catastrophe , more than one thousand were injured, about 170 were killed the majority are children , women and seniors , lots of homes were demolished and destroyed , you can hear the kids’ screaming everywhere because of the airstrikes, and as usual the civilians pay the price, they don’t have shelters , and now they’re heading schools that are already un safe and were being hit before in the previous wars , considering that Israeli forces are now hitting even hospitals , ambulances , associations including handicapped ones on their habitants.
Entire families were killed and wiped, families remained without parents , homes demolished over its habitants .
Egypt is preventing the entry of injured to be treated and on the other hand preventing external medical delegation to enter Gaza
Therefore we’re calling on the sympathy, solidarity and support of our sincere friends

All the best
Your friends in Gaza


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Cup of tea


Nick victor.

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Israel War Crimes Debate on Gaza

parliament gaza

Click pic to watch

Highlights from a UK parliamentary debate in which MPs variously accused Israel of war crimes, disproportionate violence, ruining peace negotiations by building illegal settlements, running the worlds largest outdoor prison, collective punishment, and attacking water supplies, hospitals, supply centres and all manner of other civilian targets. I have edited out the contributions of Foreign Secretary, William Hague, because nearly all of them displayed a shameful lack of compassion for the sufferings of the Palestinian people (Hague is a prominent member of an organisation called the “Conservative Friends of Israel” and is well aware of the funding that involvement brings to his party and his own political campaigns)
The debate took place on the 14th of July 2014

From YouTube


The cowardice at the heart of our relationship with Israel
Peter Oborne
The Telegraph, 12 December 2012


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High Hopes – film trailer


Coming Soon

In 1997-’98, many Bedouin refugees living under Israeli Occupation were forcibly displaced by Israel to a garbage dump. During this entire period, the Oslo Peace Process was ongoing, with “high hopes” for peace. During recent peace talks, military plans to forcibly displace some 30,000 Bedouin refugees for settlement expansion continued to be developed, and in the aftermath of those talks, the plan is progressing and extremely urgent as to the initial 2,800 facing imminent forced displacement.

A film by Oscar Award nominee and International Emmy Award Winner Guy Davidi
Produced by Angela Godfrey-Goldstein
Music Pink Floyd
Courtesy of David Gilmour & Polly Samson


bedouin girl

bedouin boy

bedouin man

bedouin 1

bedouin 2

bedouin 3


Guy Davidi

Academy Award Nominated and Emmy Award Winner Guy Davidi has been directing, shooting, and editing since the age of sixteen. In 2006 his film “In Working Progress” was released and participated in film festivals around the world. Three more shorts followed: “A Gift from Heaven” in 2008, “Women Defying Barriers” in 2009 (Best Documentary in Montecatini Festival), and “Keywords” which premiered at Haifa Film Festival in 2010. In 2010 Davidi screened his first full-length film “Interrupted Streams” in the official competition of the Cinema-South Festival and competed in the Jerusalem Film Festival, winning the David Silver Camera at the Warsaw Jewish Film Festival. His second feature “Five Broken Cameras” was a huge international success: it was nominated for the Oscar 2013 (Best Documentary), winning a 2013 International Emmy Award. Davidi won the prize for Best Director at the Sundance Film Festival and the Audience and Jury awards at IDFA in Amsterdam and Best Documentary in Cinema Eye Honors. In addition, the film won awards in over 30 film festivals (e.g. Sheffield, Cinema du Reel, Planete + Docs, and Jerusalem Film Festival). Five Broken Cameras has been soldto numerous TV stationsand been commercially distributed in theaters across Europe, Asia and North America.


Five Broken Cameras (2012) Israel – Palestine – France.
• Oscar 2013 Nomination – Best Documentary.
• International Emmy Award Winner – Best Documentary 2013.
• Jury Prize and Audience award winners, IDFA Film Festival 2012.
• Best Director Award Winner, Sundance Film Festival 2012.
• Won more than 30 awards in festivals and commercially distributed in cinemas around the world.

Interrupted Streams (2010) Israel- Switzerland.
• David’s Silver Camera Award – Warsaw Jewish Film Festival.
• Premiered at the Jerusalem Film Festival
• Participated in Cinemambiente Film Festival (Italy) and festivals around the world.

Keywords (2010) Israel (short)
• Premiered at the Haifa Film Festival, 2010
• Participated in the Sole Luna Festival (Italy) and film festivals around the world.

Women Defying Borders (2009) Israel – Palestine – Italy (short)
• Best Documentary – Montecatini Film Festival (Italy)
• Participated in the Mecal Film Festival (Spain) and film festivals around the world.

A Gift from Heaven (2008) Israel (short)
• Premiered at the Workers’ Film Festival in Haifa 
Participated in Curtocircuito Film Festival (Spain) and film festivals around the world.

In Working Progress (2006) Israel – Switzerland (mid-length)
• Premiered at the Lussas Film Festival (France).
• Participated in GZDocs (China) and dozens of film festivals around the world.


Angela Godfrey-Goldstein is co-founder of The Jahalin Association (Nabi Samwel), with Sulaiman abu Dahouk and others in the Bedouin Jahalin community.

Angela worked for four years (1998-2002) in Sinai, especially with 100 families of Nuweiba Bedouin handicraft producers, supporting them with a “not for profit” hotel bazaar in Sharm el Sheikh, their only outlet, and then for six years selling their products to the diplomatic community in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. She was an environmental/peace activist in Sinai, during which time for 6 months she organised local and international diving instructors to save Ras Mohammed Marine Park (a $300 million diving industry) from a Crown of Thorns plague. This success was the catalyst to take the underwater environment out of the hands of the Egyptian Ministry of Tourism, to the international and Egyptian diving community, thus protecting the No. 2 marine park in the world. At this time, she campaigned for Bedouin land rights, succeeding in fighting demolition of Bedouin camps by a media campaign (Reuters in Cairo et al.): the Egyptian Government was forced, for the first and only time, to grant licences to Bedouin landowners as to 12 kms. of Bedouin beach resorts at a time of major Egyptian development of those lands. She also secured major (multi-million dollar) funding for 10 years from Egyptian Swiss Development Fund for two Bedouin NGOs (in South and North Sinai), involving agricultural development, drilling of wells, school infrastructure/education and handicraft development; they were then the only Sinai Bedouin NGOs to be donor-funded in Cairo (in spite of Egyptian government resistance). She also organised Egyptian Rotary to bring doctors, food, blankets and clothing to Sinai Bedouin in Nuweiba. She has an 18-year ongoing relationship with Sinai Bedouin.

Her advocacy includes: issuing a 2007 publication about the Jahalin: Nowhere Left to Go; funding 45% of the “car tyres” school (donated by Dutch NGO SIVMO and French “CCLF”); fundraising treatment of Jahalin mukhtar, Abu Musa, at an Israeli hospital  ($30,000); writing about Palestine indigenous issues, citing Al Khan el Ahmar, in Indigenous World 2011, 2012, 2013 and 2014 (IWGIA); developing a 2011 film Nowhere Left to Go for CESCR, along with a YouTube video, to advocate Jahalin human rights: the film was screened in March 2013 at the New York Peace Films Festival; a four-minute version is available at Time Magazine’s website; both are also at (the leading portal on Bedouin Jahalin issues); and producing the film HIGH HOPES (which can be seen on YouTube shortly) directed/edited by Guy Davidi of FIVE BROKEN CAMERAS, with soundtrack “High Hopes” donated by Pink Floyd, which highlights forced displacement of Jahalin in 1997-98, using archive AP and BBC material. 

Angela has been an Israeli since 1981, of dual British nationality. Her Israeli peace activism started in 1996 as volunteer editor for Friends of the Earth Middle East/ EcoPeace (Palestinian, Jordanian, Egyptian and Israeli at that time). She was Advocacy Officer and alternative tour guide with ICAHD – The Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions for ten years (2002-2011) and regularly advocates through guided tours and briefings with journalists, diplomats, politicians, church leaders and activists, and has presented in many foreign ministries and parliaments, including twice (2006/2013) at the European Parliament, twice at the British Parliament (Portcullis House), at UN Conferences, the 2006 Presbyterian GA, inaugurated the Malmo Social Forum (with Mustafa Barghouti), conducted many international speaking tours, including with Jahalin Bedouin spokespersons, and written widely for various publications or online sites. She edited the first Palestinian guidebook: PALESTINE & PALESTINIANS (English version), including its recent launch as an IPad and IPhone “app”, managed a Sinai tourism magazine PENINSULA (Sharm el Sheikh/Cairo), and prior to Israeli immigration worked in radio and theatre, including London’s West End; she was BBC-trained and employed as a freelance radio arts interviewer. A member of EAPPI’s Local Reference Group, she has guided incoming groups since 2002 for their political orientation tour.

In 2009 Angela organised a delegation of Palestinians who had been evicted from their homes by settlers in Silwan and Sheikh Jarrah to:- attend UN SC hearings on Israeli practices as to human rights in the OPT, give 20 briefings to UNSC missions and 40 congressional briefings in DC, attend the inaugural J Street Conference, brief New York’s liberal Jewish community, engage in media interviews, and network with activists and the Arab American community. She has organised three such missions to the United Nations in New York, most recently in 2013 with a Bedouin colleague, advocating against impending planned forced displacement.


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Nowhere Left to Go









A film by Angela Godfrey-Goldstein


I kept writing to my friends or colleagues who ask me about the situation and how we are? that we are physically safe so far but it’s really heavy. Waiting and waiting, all the news and sounds of bombing, all pictures of death and bombardments … it’s too frustrating and frightening. Children are getting mad of the continuity of the aggression and they feel more nervous and stressed. It’s an example of hundreds of thousands of children and families, who are still safe! Then what it mean for those who lost their families or children, houses, displaced ones and so on?

Beside all, its Ramadan time, summer, no electricity most of the time, with long and scarring nights. They start to hate night and darkness more than ever as most of bombing happens after midnight… 
Sorry to write this much, but it’s a little summary of what people face here in Gaza …
Today, they announced humanitarian cease fire for 5 hours. It was a chance to go and make some shopping and visit some place to have a look as it’s a break. My daughter Yara, 13 years old insisted to join me. We went by the car and I realized that she put her head out of the window! She never did this, I asked: what are you doing? Why? She said: “I want to breathe as much as possible, to take as much as Oxygen.” She looked happy as if she is traveling for the first time in her life to anew country / place in a vacation. “I miss the street, seeing people and feel a life” she said. I stopped the car and we start speck up:

“To be at home for more than 10 days, to be away from your bed, to sleep after sun rise each day, to loss all your daily habits and activities, not to be able to read, play music or to relax or even to take shower in normal way as its hot, no electricity and its Ramadan, it’s not too much for us? It’s not enough what happened? Until when and what? And after all why? ”

Our dialogue continued and she spoke abet about the moments of fear and anxiety she is living with each bomb day or night specially at night and mainly when its dark, telling about her acting of being strong sometimes avoiding to add to the atmosphere or affect more her brother Adham (18 years old) who refused to go with us as he don’t trust the BREAK as his memory hold an experience of attacking people within this kind of time during last aggression ( one and half year ago) while Adham himself  kept saying last days “I miss the street”

We came back home, at 15:00 o’clock, the break was finished and attacks started (continued), another 3 children were killed and then others. This lead us to open a discussion at IFTAR time (evening) about the 4 children were killed at the beach yesterday: was is a carelessness from them or their families to let them play outside within this situation? Or it was there right to play as they should be out of this violence?


What do you think?



My friend (a professor) who spoke of his neighbour’s house being blown up (60 metres away from his home) talked to me this evening about it on the phone.  He was coming home when he saw the “warning knock on the roof” – a small explosion.  He had some 20 neighbours coming to sleep with him as a result.  And being Palestinian, had to give them food and drink and didn’t have enough in the house.  So he sent his son out to the corner shop.  Knocking on the door, of the closed shop, the owner of the place called out “Abed, are you crazy, go home fast.  It’s too dangerous to be outside now..!!”  Anyhow, my friend is going to email me statements of his daily life, too.  Of course they’re not sleeping.
Angela Godfrey-Goldstein

Dearest Angela,
Thank you for asking about us. Quickly, last night, it was the most fearful one, the house of our neighbour has been destroyed, I was just coming from the shop and 70 meters before reaching home, a BIG bombing/explosion took place. I could not able to see any thing close to me, glasses, pieces of demolishing, steel pieces thrown every where. Any how, around 20 women and children came to our house seeking a safe place to hide. Ive start using my experience managing the crises during emergencies with the women and children. Ive asked my son Abed to get us some food from the shop as part of Palestinian hospitality to the families came to our house but the shop was closed and the man told my son are you crazy coming to the shop on the 12:00PM after mid night. So, my wife just cooked what little stuff we had and served the families and stayed a wake until 8:00 AM in the morning. I tried to see what has happened last night and saw the awful and horrible pictures of the destruction.
The problem in Gaza that we don’t know who is who and whether this man is targeted or not this is the problem which means that you could die any time!!!

Sorry Angela for my English just before the electricity cut.

Warmest regards,


Dear Nancy Dear Bill and Dear Don,
How are you all , we hope that you’re doing fine Inshallah.
We’re writing now and on the 7th day of horror , collective punishment and humanistic catastrophe , more than one thousand were injured, about 170 were killed the majority are children , women and seniors , lots of homes were demolished and destroyed , you can hear the kids’ screaming everywhere because of the airstrikes, and as usual the civilians pay the price, they don’t have shelters , and now they’re heading schools that are already un safe and were being hit before in the previous wars , considering that Israeli forces are now hitting even hospitals , ambulances , associations including handicapped ones on their habitants.
Entire families were killed and wiped, families remained without parents , homes demolished over its habitants .
Egypt is preventing the entry of injured to be treated and on the other hand preventing external medical delegation to enter Gaza
Therefore we’re calling on the sympathy, solidarity and support of our sincere friends

All the best
Your friends in Gaza


Angela Godfrey-Goldstein, 
Advocacy Officer, 
The Jahalin Association




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Collagistes Collected 16

garth 1

garth 2

garth 3

garth 4

garth 5

garth 6

garth 7

garth 8

garth 9

garth 10

garth 11

garth 12

Garth Simmons

Collagistes Collective, begun in December 2013 with 25 artists, now has over 600 artist members, growing daily.
Garth’s sketches represent the under-appreciated doodle, an expression of artistic brilliance and psychological revelations, as they stem from the back of the mind, the subconscious, usually done while having to undertake some extremely tedious boring activity, or maybe a more pleasant moment when the mind just wanders. Or maybe an expression of anger, aggression and hatred best applied to pen and paper than actual violence.

The doodle is anarchy. The doodle is mental rebellion. The doodle is spiritual freedom in a prison world. The doodle is your explosion of inner beauty. 





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candy rock

candy rock

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Dynoline 3

It’s only the beginning. Now he turns to his aide-de-camp, “Poundophilia is an impossible dream.” Planets swarm at the arches. Sing as you go and let the world go. Win a docking manoeuvre through persistent lime parallels at the road margin, asking, “which way to the skyline…?” Align your genius with the unswerving. Here were you Wishing Wishing you were here. The only qualities that ensure certain victory are musical spheres like an ethereal cathedral. Be water, my friend, adjust the object. Be liquid around a solid enemy. Do not be at the mercy of the Judo Kinder, avant de la vive avive le rêve. As seen on TV. House your nuclear bombs in a warm dry place. Enter Now to Win sacred cows and naked emperors. All tax is rape/all rape is tax. Government on Night Scented Stock Exchange, high as the Chariot Peacock. I like public opinion. Advertisements sell you back your own lies. This summer we’ll market exoteric agreement thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. Lip to lip. Sellfie, and the sacraments of bruderschaft. Blood sacrifice sucking on arteries of oil. There’s never been an England. International Timeless is graffiti on embroidery. We don’t beg, we don’t pay, we don’t charge. Heat-seeking writers in Waziristan knitting the sox of martyrdom. The youth need injurious conflagration. There’s five loaves left, no fish. Karma cackles too enfeebled to face the cause. News Flash…Aliens admit they don’t exist. Greensleeves evolution flesh flood. Mood sinks on the global magic roundabout. Life is struggling for time to out-think the boxes. my head is unmade like Tracey’s tarty old bed. Like a reverse universe. Dreaming of Stone Virgins… of the Third Reich ©, and of Barbie-dog kidnapped in the Lost Ark. The world would be closer if everybody made do with a bit less certainty. Think while it’s still quite still.   ¡hasta la victoria! ……un dialogo intenso a favor de la naturaleza en armonía con la sociedad……La lute noir. Zero must be there somewhere or the Salafist Dada Nihilists win. Looking forwards we dare not lose our unflinching parsimony. My trove buried in our Gestaltbunker is your ontology on over-ripe to a dead ending. Win a year’s supply of beginnings. Add your comment here or there. Fill in your coupon to lose.


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Do You Want A Cup of Tea?










Do you want a cup of tea?
All I want is relief from pain.
Would you like a biscuit?
Please take this fear away.
How about a relaxing bath?
The shame I feel shrivels me.
Are you drinking enough water?
I am wracked with guilt.
Think positive thoughts!
I want to die now.
Have you got a hobby?
Yes, sleeping.
I’ll put the kettle on.
Don’t light the gas.
Now stop being silly,
Do you take sugar?
Got any drugs?
What can we do to cheer you up?
Fuck off.
I know you don’t mean that.
How what?
Do you know?
Because you’re not that sort of person,
Here’s your tea.
Now, lets talk about all this.


Written by Francis de Aguilar©
Pic: Claire Palmer



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The Runner


‘Culture is like a heavy overcoat into which a child is firmly buttoned, thereafter to shape and condition the rest of its life and become a shroud at its death.’
The Mister

The Runner

Sacred sites remain hallowed until the arrival of the tourist horde that quickly strips them of all authenticity. Better to set up a deck-chair in Camden High St and spend a relaxing day watching traffic while these enthusiastic sight-seers hunt among the megaliths and dolmens for a McDonalds, or a snack-bar in the Sacristy.

Pioneering days are the best, the first breaking of new earth and the release of a primal energy such as occurred in the mid-sixties but which quickly juddered to an atrophy riddled halt once Carnaby St and the merchants moved in.

Plastic simulacrums of reality lining the route of sold-out minds who can never get their hands on the ‘real thing’, which forever lies just out of sight, inspiring only those who appreciate the finer distillations, while wishing the best of luck to the hindermost.

Following metaphorically these inspiring events come Municipal roads, speculative builders, shopping-centres and all the rest.

But the raw energy has long gone, moved on, ever seeking fresh outlets and new directions wherein to create the kind of buzz worth living for.

Such new directions move of course, always some way ahead of popular culture, which blunders clumsily in its wake, bringing with it the commercial interests that feed upon the desire which they profitably encourage.

However, with the right kind of insight it is easy to outrun this ‘user friendly’ monster.

                          The Runner

At middle distance
Long slope of strawatered corn
Viewed in utter stillness
By golden pupilled blue eyed sky
Then eye is caught
A small light movement
Urgent coursing down the slope
Taking rapid form becomes
The Runner.

Leaping hedges
Trailing spiderwebs of bubbling sparks
Ozone tinged air becomes alive
With half-heard sounds of celestial strung pipes
Then in a blur of colour
He is by and gone.

Once more the hill alone
Then suddenly two figures
Scurry down its face
And as they level with the eye
Three more; then four; five, nine… thirty
A multitude blacken the golden slope
Chimneys belching wheels turning
The air is filled with hooting friction
Screaming metal
Plastic flowers trampled under eyeless feet

Voices of woe, pain and fear
Lifted above a silhouette of disjointed
arms and legs
Then just as eyes and ears can bear no more
A subtle change flows through the air
As sound recedes and centerpoint is passed
The figures isolated by their space
Towards the fast dissolving mass
Hurry in its wake.

Now the stragglers anxious move
Only eleven keeping pace
Across the landscape spread
Now six
And moving faster three
No more to come?
A gap
Then two the horizon break
Down the slope speed on their way
And gone.

Once more the hill
The corn
Sky and time
Then eye is caught
A small light movement
Urgent coursing down the slope
Taking rapid form becomes
The Runner.

Dave Tomlin
Art: Nick Victor


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Conceptual Postcard







Nicola Lane


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Of Bodies Changed
















A synopsis

When Jackie travels to the South Downs in search of her childhood home,
she uncovers a sinister secret lurking in the family closet.  Her estranged brother,
Chris, is her last remaining relative, but he has been transformed into something
unrecognisable by the ghosts of the past. 

In her journey to discover the truth, Jackie enters a strange world of free-loving
heathens, environmental warriors and sadistic priests, where dragons dwell
beneath the streets of northern towns and demons prowl on the edge of Avebury’s stone circle.

A gothic tale of love, revenge and atonement, Of Bodies Changed is an odyssey
through the ancient myths that echo the human experience.


Of Bodies Changed by Cliff James
An Extract

Sometimes nowadays, when the house is quiet and Lionheart is asleep, I sit beside the fire with a glass of whisky and remember the sensations of that night.  Sometimes I thrill at the memory of that bedroom in King’s Cross, the woodchip wallpaper, the dripping sink in the corner, the underground trains rumbling beneath the foundations.  The window that would not close banging softly against the frame; the thin white curtains shuffling in the breeze.  Sirens wailed longingly over the streets, far from the coast, far from the deadly rocks of the North Sea.  The streetlight flickered pulsingly, teasing my imagination with precious glimpses of our bodies writhing over the blankets like six snakes coiling into one skin, like the blink of a pagan heaven.
     Sometimes I close my eyes and feel the melting heat of strange flesh against familiar flesh, reach my hands into space and explore the oceans of skin.  We became water in streams, weaving down the slopes of each other’s parting waves, to dissolve in fountains and condense in tissue and bone.  In my mind, I stretch my fingers across warm hair and fluid muscle, to sweep the tides of body over body, and touch again the fire of the Coven’s last night together.
     Sometimes I close my eyes.

* * *

     When it was over, Jake was the first to speak.
     ‘If we’d thought about it, we could have all shared the one bed this whole week,’ he said. 
     He stood beside the window in unashamed beauty, the first glow of dawn lacing his pink outline.  He walked to the sink in the corner of the room and washed his face in cold water. 
     Anna sat on the end of the bed and stared at the carpet.
     ‘I need the bathroom,’ she said at length, and walked out of the bedroom without looking back.  ‘Conrad, you joining me?’ 
     We heard the water heater click as she stepped into the shower.  Conrad kissed Chris’s forehead twice and followed her out.
     ‘Won’t be any sleep now,’ said Day, pulling a sweater over his head.  ‘Going to get breakfast from the all-night chippy.  Anyone want anything?’
      ‘I’ll come,’ said Jake, buttoning his jeans.  He would not look at anyone.  ‘I need some fresh air.’
     They closed the door quietly behind them.  Chris took my hand and rubbed it between his fingers.  He pulled the duvet over my naked body.
     ‘Covering the shame of post-modern Eve?’ I asked.
     ‘Oh dear, Cat,’ he grinned.  ‘What have we done?’ 

* * *

     We did not speak on the train back to Sunderland.  The night in King’s Cross remained an unspoken deed, a thing of dreams and too much wine.  Instead, we rested our heads on our sleeping partners’ shoulders and reclaimed the bodies that had become common property for one night.   

     February was an anxious month for me.  I waited for the period that never arrived.  My fears were confirmed in March.  I leaned over the kitchen sink with the pregnancy test and stared at the faint purple line that had delicately materialised in the plastic tube.  It refused to go away.

     ‘It could be a false positive.  It could, though,’ said Chris.
     I winced at the sound of his voice.  In the garden, the dream-tree hung silent and tense.  The seagulls circled the clear blue sky: vultures anticipating my reply.  The details of everything took on greater significance, distracting me from the faint purple line that would not go away.  I stared at the lupins in the window-box.  They had returned from the dark soil for a second spring.  I wondered if they would flower this year too or whether the soil was too shallow.  There was no hope for the night-scented stock which had been left to wither and die in the first frost. 
     ‘It could, but we both know it’s not,’ I said, forcing my attention back to the kitchen.  I gave the plastic tube to Chris and cursed my earlier optimism.  If I am honest, at that time I felt diseased with the thing inside me, infected by an unwelcome alien feeding off my body.  I rinsed a cup under the tap and noticed that my hands were strangely steady.  Even now, I thought, in every second, in every breath, the cells are dividing and multiplying.
     ‘We can take another test,’ said Chris.  I registered his use of “we”.
     I filled the kettle and kept my back towards him.  I could do a better job of it than my parents, I thought.  I could raise him without any guilt or ignorance.  I could raise a hero.  I could do things differently.
     Or I could get rid of it.
     ‘I need to get away,’ I said, stroking the handle of the kettle.  ‘I need to be somewhere else.  To think.  I can’t go to my parents.’
     Chris drummed his fingers on the table.  I could feel him watching me, analysing my reaction.
     ‘Have you ever been to Whitby?’ he asked.  ‘It’s lovely in the spring and I know of a quiet house beside the sea.  You can walk along the shore; it’s quite deserted.  There’s hardly anyone about this time of year.  There’s plenty of space to think.’
     I carried my cup to the table and sat beside him.  The seagulls settled on the garden wall and cried at our faces through the window.
      ‘Would your mother mind?’
     ‘She’s not bad at this sort of thing,’ he said, resting his hand on mine.  I flinched at his words.  This sort of thing – as though that faint purple line happened to Chris all the time.  ‘And I’d know you were safe there.  She can be a clever woman, sometimes.  She knows exactly what to do: how much space to give, when to speak, when to be silent.  If nothing else, she taught me to have faith in my own decisions.’
      The crystals on the dream-tree chimed a soft lullaby, soothing the seagulls into silence.  The birds gave up their squawking and abandoned the garden altogether. 
     ‘Would you speak to my tutor for me?  Tell her I’ll be away for two weeks, at least.  I guess she’ll have to know the reason why.’
     Chris nodded and smiled reassuringly.  ‘I’ll let Calliope know you’ll be with her this evening.’
     ‘How quickly it’s all happened,’ I said.  Circe walked into the kitchen and mewed at her empty bowl.  She glanced up at me, aghast that I had not reached for her biscuits. 
     ‘I’m not sure I can go through with this,’ I added, disturbed by the meow’s resemblance to an infant’s demanding cry.  For a moment, the cat turned into a hairy baby walking on all fours and flicking its impatient tail.
     ‘You know, you don’t have to have it, Cat.  But if you do, we’ll all be here to help.  More than that, we’ll all be parents with you.  What’s that they say about it taking a whole village to raise a child?’
     I stood up and looked down at my belly.  I felt no sign of the stranger inside, no shift in the contours of my body.
     ‘Isn’t it odd, nobody’s mentioned the night in Kings Cross since we came home.  Conrad and Anna avoid us.  The only contact we’ve had are brief, embarrassed nods in college.  Jake doesn’t know what to say to me anymore.  He glares at you every time you mention Conrad’s name.  Day takes it all in his stride, of course.  When I told him we’ve all become estranged, he just shrugged.  I don’t know how they’re all going to react to “this sort of thing” – as you so delicately put it.  What if they don’t want anything to do with it?  What if someone insists on being the father?’
     I went to the sink and washed my hands in cold water.  Still steady as anything, I thought.  The cat mewed and brushed her fur against my bare legs.  I dried my hands and walked towards the door.
     ‘It doesn’t matter who the father is,’ said Chris, reaching a hand to hold my arm.  ‘What matters is we’ll be with you when the time comes.  If that’s what you decide.’
     ‘I have to pack,’ I said and left the room.


Available at: 




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In Memoriam


The Ramones in 1976In Memoriam: Tommy Ramone, drummer of the legendary band The Ramones,
the producer and last remaining member of the band’s original line-up who died this week.




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Our Gang





Robert Tasher


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Dual Personality


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Cameron’s New Data Laws Rushed Through Parliament




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On Tour


Click On. ^^^

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Israel is the Jimmy Savile of nation states abusing Gaza’s children

Alexei Sayle gaza_alexei_sayle_460

In this video (see link below), as Israel is again bombarding the defenceless 1.8 million Gazans imprisoned in the world’s most densely populated place, Author, comedian and actor Alexis Sayle compares Israel to the serial rapist and abuser of children, Jimmy Savile: “It clearly doesn’t care about damaging the lives of children,” he says. “And it’s a state endlessly indulged by the Western powers.”

In 2009, at the time of Israel’s Operation Cast Lead, which killed at least 1400 people as it devastated Gaza, Alexei Sayle said: “I think it’s important that Jewish people who have a public profile speak out to say that this is not being done in our name. All the time we hear from Israeli spokespeople that they are angry with the people they have murdered for making them murder them. It is the psychology of the murderer, it is the psychology of the rapist, it is the psychology of the bully. That’s what Israel is in this situation.”

Stop the Bombing – Stop the Killing
Saturday 19 July • Assemble 5pm
Downing Street • London SW1A 2AA
More details…

Watch the video:






Some pictures of some of the 15,000 people who turned out for the march today.

Gaza rally London

Gaza rally 2

gaza rally 3

From Huffington Post





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Nick Victor.

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I will not send my children to school

peter 5

















I will not send my children to school nor spend a night all my
life in London. Here in this vast station everything echoes and
booms hollowly. The light is like the yellow light under an
awning. Jinny lives here. Jinny takes her dog for walks on these
pavements. People here shoot through the streets silently. They
look at nothing but shop-windows. Their heads bob up and down all
at about the same height. The streets are laced together with
telegraph wires. The houses are all glass, all festoons and
glitter; now all front doors and lace curtains, all pillars and
white steps. But now I pass on, out of London again; the fields
begin again; and the houses, and women hanging washing, and trees
and fields. London is now veiled, now vanished, now crumbled, now
fallen. The carbolic and the pitch-pine begin to lose their
savour. I smell corn and turnips. I undo a paper packet tied with
a piece of white cotton. The egg shells slide into the cleft
between my knees. Now we stop at station after station, rolling
out milk cans. Now women kiss each other and help with baskets.
Now I will let myself lean out of the window. The air rushes down
my nose and throat–the cold air, the salt air with the smell of
turnip fields in it. And there is my father, with his back turned,
talking to a farmer. I tremble, I cry. There is my father in
gaiters. There is my father.’


Words: Virginia Woolf
Collage: Peter Strange Yumi

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The Poetry Army Comes to Brum




















Bromsgrove Artrix July 12th
“This army marches on words, for they are mightier than the sword and without them we may never have made the comparison.”

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Market Forces












Market Forces



Christmas Eve and darkness falls as a healing balm on the Flanders battlefield; an occasional starshell rises into the night illuminating the corpse strewn mud. The Tommies sip on mugs of tea and puff on  Woodbines but Christmas eve or not, keep their heads down and an eye out for the Boch who are tricky customers and liable to make a sneak attack, taking advantage of this special and Holy night.
But far from it, for a lone German voice floats across the holocaustic mud and the voice is singing:

‘Silent Night, Holy night.’

The Tommies are cheered by this and one or two along the trench join in and soon English and German is intermingling in this song of peace.

Now a sentry points: ‘Look,’ he says, and Lo, there twinkling along the German lines are small Christmas trees which move and begin to venture out into no man’s land.
They’re coming out,’ the sentry shouts again, but too late, since now the Tommies too are leaving their trenches in droves.

The two armies, weaponless, slowly move towards each other still singing and there meet and mingle, clapping each other on the back with many gestures of fellow-feeling; cannon-fodder from both sides recognising their common humanity, and tears are apparent on many German and English cheeks as the hated enemy are seen to be decent fellows just like themselves, while overall falls the kind of genuine peace that politicians can only dream of.

‘Have a fag mate’, says one Tommy to a hulking and jovial Prussian Grenadier.
‘Vielen Dank mein freund,’ says the Grenadier while proffering a cigar in return.
‘And haff you more?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, plenty,’ says the Tommy, pulling two or three packets from his pocket.
‘Ach so! Das ist gut,’ says the Grenadier, and takes a handful of cigars from his pocket. They begin to haggle.

All along the line these transactions are taking place – tins of bully beef and biscuits exchanged for bottles of schnapps;  pots of home-made jam from Blighty for sausages from Frankfurt.

But now the first Tommy is running into trouble: he wants 10 cigars for one packet of gaspers but the Grenadier will give no more than five.
‘Come on,’ says the Tommy, ‘Your cigars are not really much of a smoke.
‘Cigars Gut, says the Grenadier firmly, and will not budge over the issue.
The Tommy concedes the point. ‘OK then,’ he says. Give me 8.
‘Nein, nein,’ protests the Grenadier angrily. ‘Funf – FUNF!’
The Tommy is getting irritated by this Teutonic intransigence and loses his temper.

‘You bloody stingy German bastard,’ he shouts which the Grenadier takes badly.
‘Filthy pig-dog Englander,’ he roars, which is too much for the Tommy who now takes a swing at him. However, the Grenadier is light on his feet and steps adroitly to one side before landing his mighty fist on the Englishman’s jaw and down he goes.

His English mates, seeing this come to his aid and several swarm over the Grenadier bringing him down too, where he begins receiving sundry kicks and punches as he lays in the mud. But they also come under attack as a larger contingent of Germans overwhelm the Tommies.

Now the whole mass are throwing punches and kicks as they struggle together in the mud and darkness. Bellows of anger and rage fill the night air and Christmas trees are trampled underfoot, while many a Hun is felled by a well-aimed tin of bully beef. Some run back to their trenches to fetch their rifles and the scene rapidly deteriorates into something one might witness any night anywhere after the pubs close.

Christmas morning dawns on this day of rest, but Tommies spend the whole of it lining the fire-step of their trenches, while diligently sniping away at anything that moves in the German lines.

Now they really have something to fight about.      


Dave Tomlin
Art Nick Victor  




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Westminster Paedo Ring















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Rorschach Audio











Engaging… packed with interest” – The Times Literary Supplement

“The cultural scope of the book is dizzying” – The Quietus

“Amiable… thoughtful… very intriguing” – Art Monthly

“Fascinating work” – Steven Pinker


What are the connections between Leonardo da Vinci and Dick Whittington, between the BBC Monitoring Service and punk band The Clash, between wartime military intelligence work, visual arts theory, battle management systems, Spiritualism, radio and recording technology and criminal witness testimony? What role do JG Ballard, Osama bin Laden, William Burroughs, Jean Cocteau, Richard Dawkins, Jean Genet, William Hogarth, Pope Pius XII, Primo Levi, proto-Surrealist writer Raymond Roussel, teenage criminal Derek Bentley, Sigmund Freud and crystallographer Louis Albert Necker play in the disentangling of mysteries of human perception?


Taking a major cue from art historian EH Gombrich’s seminal text “Art & Illusion”, “Rorschach Audio” is a work of contemporary cultural scholarship and an exploration of the art and science of psychoacoustic ambiguities. Part detective story, part artistic and cultural critique, “Rorschach Audio” lifts the lid on an array of fascinating and under-examined perceptual and political phenomena.


“Rorschach Audio” is essential reading for everyone interested in air-traffic control, anechoic chambers, artificial oxygen carriers, audio art, bell-ringing, cocktail parties, cognitive science, communications interference, compost, the death penalty, Electronic Voice Phenomena, evangelism, evolutionary biology, experimental music, ghosts, the historiography of art, illusions of sound and illusions of language, lip-reading jokes, nuclear blast craters, predictive texting, singing hair, sonic archives, sound design, steam trains, tinnitus, the Turing Test, Victorian blood painting, visual depth and space perception, ultrasonic visual music, ventriloquism, voices and warehouse robberies and fires.


“The earliest form of sound recording technology was not a machine but was written language…” (Rorschach Audio, page 96)


Trade distribution by Turnaround

ISBN 978-1-907222-20-7

Hardback, 191 pages

Art Theory, Cultural Studies

UK £10 Non-Fiction


An early MIT Press version of “Rorschach Audio” (published 2001) can be downloaded here -


Rorschach Audio lecture-demonstrations have been presented at The British Library, The Science Museum Dana Centre, The Royal College of Art, The ICA and City University (London), Liverpool Biennale, The University of Edinburgh, Argos (Brussels) and Arteleku (San Sebastian). “Rorschach Audio” sound artworks have been commissioned by MUU Helsinki and Palais de Tokyo. Project supported by The Arts & Humanities Research Council, Goldsmiths College (University of London) and The Institute for Modern & Contemporary Culture at The University of Westminster.


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anagram 01

These postcards were produced by Tony Allen as a homage to IT editor  Max Handly (Vol. 4). Who died young, flying his own aircraft, and made a good looking corpse. Amongst many other things he generated over a thousand anagrams of “The United States of America.” He also wrote two novels, made an LP, was a machine code programmer and found time to father several children. His loss is still felt.

anagram 02 anagram 03 anagram 04


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Elena Caldera



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Presidential Vacancy

vote for nobody








When George Washington was asked
To take his oath of office as President,
William Maclay, who was present,
Wrote in his Journal,

That Washington  “seemed to have forgot
Half what he was to say,
For he made a dead pause and stood for some time,
 To appearance, in a vacant mood.”

It was 1789. Two hundred years later
President Bush could barely read the oath,
And President Obama fluffed it
So that he had to take the oath again.

It indicates the artificial nature
Of the whole procedure –
That it sits uneasily both with bone-headed idiots
And with megalomaniac narcissists alike.

“It is a well-known fact”, said Douglas Adams, “that those people
Who want to rule people are those least suited to do it…
Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President
Should on no account be allowed to do the job.”

It may be no accident that an amnesiac stuttering kicks in
When people assume a Presidential role.
Could it be a karmic impediment to omnipotence
Perhaps because the office itself is a killing joke?


Heathcote Williams



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The quiet art of finding titles

Pater Strange Yumi 3









Come on to me
am the star that shines
on this dainty face

New people, new habits;
up here girls are in charge
Opel TM*20 BIT. Hollow

Let’s get this over with,
Life without music&poetry
is like declaring war – constantly

Advertise for your death:

Julia Cry smiles over
with one breast out, pause
2 breast out. Point her

Pass by the ceremony,
Feelgood Thursday. Stride
Buy the absolute stillness ticket.

It’s harrowing having to stream
through the double image.
I honey-eyed inside of it.



Bogdan Puslenghea
Collage: Peter Strange Yumi


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The Playgrind

the playgrund














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Collagistes Collected 15



hannah 5hannah vinte 2hannah 7hannah 10hannah 8Hannah Vintehannah vinte 3

















Hannah Vinte E Tres






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Our Gang
















Robert Tasher





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A Terrible Career

Petra Lea - A terrible Career
















Petra Lea







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Bubble Gum

marc ways 9



















Collage: Marc Ways




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I Want My Mind Back

suelena noguer  






I want my mind back.
I’m not sure where it’s gone,
Its rather old, seen better days.
From childhood dreams thru’ purple haze
To dizzy love and deaths cold stare.

I want my mind back
So I can make it up.
I’m sure I’d made a decision
To be kinder to it,
To call a truce, sue for peace.

I want my mind back
Without it life floats about
Unsure and detached,
Like a leaf on the road
At the mercy of random swirls.   

I want my mind back
So I can pick my paths
From damaged choices.
Without it I’m on tow
Pulled by hidden forces.

I want my mind back
It holds important stuff.
Grey merges definition,
Life’s constant crossword
Defeats me without it.
I want my mind back
I wish I could remember what to do,
How to drop anchor,
How to be still,
Till’ it finds its way home.

I want my mind back.

Written by Francis de Aguilar©.
Collage: Suelena Noguer


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Be someone’s hero:

colossal, impossible, lost.


be your own.




Magpie Jane
Art Nick Victor

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Medical Drugs: Too Big to Fail



















July 1, 2014

As my readers know, I’ve reported on a number of scandals concerning the toxicity of medical drugs and vaccines, including shocking death numbers in the US.

These scandals are leaks from inside the National Security State.

If you visit Wikileaks, Cryptome, Public Intelligence, and other similar sites, how many purely medical documents do you find posted?

How many damaging leaks exposing the crimes of the medical cartel do you find?

Very, very few.

Where are the medical insiders who are liberating and passing along incriminating documentary evidence?

Some of the best exposers of political, intelligence-agency, and military crimes are way behind the curve, when it comes to medical matters. They’re living in a fantasy. They see nothing in the medical arena.

The medical sphere, for various reasons, is far better protected than any other segment of society.

For the hundredth time, let me cite Dr. Barbara Starfield’s stunning review, “Is US health really the best in the world?” published on July 26, 2000, in the Journal of the American Medical Association.

Starfield, at the time, was working as a highly respected public health expert, at the Johns Hopkins School of Public Health.

She concluded that the US medical system kills 225,000 Americans a year. That would add up to 2.25 million deaths per decade.

Laid directly at the door of the American medical complex.

Aside from the genocidal death toll, Starfield’s findings also reveal massive fraud in all medical journals that routinely publish the glowing results of clinical trials of drugs.

How could such trials open the door to the marketing of drugs that kill, according to Starfield, 106,000 Americans every year, unless deep, continuing, and abetted research fraud were the order of the day?

Indeed, Dr. Marcia Angell, the editor of New England Journal of Medicine for 20 years, wrote the following:

“It is simply no longer possible to believe much of the clinical research that is published, or to rely on the judgment of trusted physicians or authoritative medical guidelines. I take no pleasure in this conclusion, which I reached slowly and reluctantly over my two decades as an editor of The New England Journal of Medicine.” (NY Review of Books, January 15, 2009)

Finally, here’s a document in plain sight, on the FDA’s own site. From the search engine, type in “FDA Why Learn About Adverse Drug Effects?” (or click here). You’ll see the FDA admits there are 100,000 deaths per year resulting from these “drug effects.”

The FDA, of course, is the single government agency responsible for certifying drugs as safe and effective, before their public release is permitted. Yet the FDA takes absolutely no responsibility for the deaths.

Can you imagine the feeding frenzy, if, say, some leaker in the Pentagon passed along a political/military document to Wikileaks that showed the Dept. of Defense was poisoning to death, like clockwork, a hundred thousand of its own soldiers every year—and was readily admitting it?

Let’s stop this insane nonsense of separating one whole set of government crimes from another, simply because the propagandized priests in the white coats are above reproach.

We’re not living in 1950 anymore, and this isn’t Kansas.


Jon Rappoport
Collage: Marc Ways


The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at


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1914 and all that


dave soldors










‘I take the Military to be a form of clog-dancing,’
The Mister 


The hierarchy of Military power has two arms. On the one hand there are the bureaucrats, and on the other those who order the actual killing.

The bureaucratic arm depends upon managerial, clerical and organisational skills, which at its peak can lead to a General’s stars.

 The killing arm however, relies upon the willingness to condemn perhaps many thousands of their fellow countrymen to an often painful death without raising an eyebrow; and to this end any feelings of guilt for these atrocities must be regarded as shameful.


1914 and all that.


Red-tabbed officers of the General Staff click about in their high polished boots across the equally polished floor of the ancient château. They pass memos from one-to-another nodding their heads over them and exchanging significant looks. At the head of a long table stands the Commander-in-Chief. He stares with gimlet eyes at the map which covers the whole table top and points with his swagger-stick at a particular area.
   ‘This is where we’ll send the Norfolk and Sussex in,’ he says to a Lieutenant-General who stands at his side.
   ‘But that’s where the enemy is at his strongest,’ says the General. ‘They’ve got three divisions just there including a machine-gun battalion; our men will be wiped out immediately.’
   ‘I know that, George,’ says the CIC. ‘It’s just a minor diversion to pull in their reserves. Then we attack with our armour here,’ he points with his stick, ‘and here, with a good chance of taking this piece of high ground.’
   ‘Ah yes, I see,’ says the General. ‘And from there we can enfilade their whole front.’
   ‘You’ve got it, George,’ says the CIC, ‘and we’re going over the top in two days time. Catch them on the hop you know.’
   Now he turns to his aide-de-camp. ‘Right, send in General Wilson first will you.’

 The aide clicks over to the door and exits the room to return a moment or two later with a middle aged General, who walks up to the table and stands waiting for the CIC to speak.
   ‘Good morning, Wilson,’ says the CIC breezily.
   ‘Good morning, sir.’ Although the General carries himself with the expected military bearing, there is a certain deference in his tone.
   ‘Well, General,’ says the CIC. ‘You must have heard by now that we’re going for a big push in a few days, and as it so happens you will be spearheading it!’

 The General looks several degrees more serious as the CIC explains the strategy and points to several locations on the map.
   ‘You’ll have command of the Norfolks and Sussex, with the Wiltshires in reserve,’
The General has gone very white; his eyes flicker across the map and he begins to comprehend the consequences of this action. He swallows and gives a nervous cough.
   ‘With all due respect, sir,’ he says. ‘But I must point out that my intelligence tells me that they have a machine-gun battalion defending that section of their lines.’

    ‘Well?’ says the CIC coldly, giving the man a suspicious look. ‘You will still have your reserves; the Wiltshires will go in straight after the first wave.’
   Now the General looks even whiter.
   ‘But they’ll be wiped out too,’ he says. That’s over a thousand men I’ll be sending to a certain death.’ Now there is panic in his eyes. ‘I can’t just…’ He comes to a halt.
   ‘Can’t what?’ says the CIC, his voice is icy and the steely eyes flicker meaningfully across to his aide-de-camp who moves surreptitiously towards the door, and when he has gone a heavy silence permeates the whole room, even the scurrying of the minor staff-officers ceases and all eyes go the head of the table. A phone rings and an aide picks it up. ‘Right,’ he says, and turns to the CIC. ‘General Wilson urgently required in the Adjutant’s office, sir.’

 ‘Well, General,’ says the CIC. ‘Better see what he wants.’
   ‘Yes, sir,’ says the General weakly. He seems to have lost all his gravitas as he walks away through the silence; an aid opens the door for him and he is gone.
   The CIC looks at his aide-de-camp and raises his eyebrows. The aide risks the hint of a smile.
   ‘Service Corps, sir? Or maybe Catering?’ He smirks.
The CIC turns to the Lieutenant General. ‘I’ll leave you to handle that, George. Probably best to send him home.’ Then… ‘Send in General Hoog.’ he barks.

 General Hoog is a brisk man and there is no nonsense about his moustache. His hawk-eye takes in the room at a glance, and he stands like an alert gun dog before the CIC.
   ‘Ah, Hoog,’ says the CIC. ‘There’s a job for you here. Come and look at this.’ They bend over the map while Hoog is given the gist of it.
   ‘I see, I see,’ says Hoog enthusiastically. ‘Brilliant piece of staff-work I must say. Of course the Norfolk and Sussex won’t come out of it, but I might get some of the Wiltshires back.’ He looks hopeful.

    ‘What do you think, sir?’
He takes one look into the CIC’s eyes then…
   ‘Well, maybe not, maybe not.’

Dave Tomlin
Art: Nick Victor



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Einstein on a Bike

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(Syd Barrett, original Pink Floyd frontman, retired from life,
an acid casualty, March 1968. Died 2006)

under jade sky
planets swarm through the
arches of Stoneferry bridge,
eyes nictating in a frost
of asteroids and tides
of delicious terror

freshly thefted magazines bulge
mustard-pvc jacket-pockets,
‘Nebula’, ‘Authentic SF’,
and ‘Science Fantasy’, their
hallucinations leak through
pvc-weld seams, spill into
late-September ’67 Hull,
storming over cold metal
drabness, and…

“hey !!!”,
Transit van docking manoeuvre’s
through persistent lime parallels
at the road margin, asking
“which way to
the skyline…?”

eyes nictate in tides
of delicious terror while
saucers spin, quasars throb

“through the bridge,
down past the lights,
‘Skyline Ballroom’,
first on the right”

“thanks man”
planets jerk from Transit exhaust
in rippling bursts of iridescence,
acceleration building towards
escape velocity

tie-die spirals ripple on van walls
‘PINK FLOYD’, vibrating day-glo,
head retracts, curls dripping pulsars
into the gutter where they squirm
and devour each other

I shock awake,
but too late

Transit recedes
under jade sky
strobing through
arches towards
the skyline…

and I almost met
Syd Barrett


Andrew Darlington
Pic: Claire Palmer

(This story is true. But it was written from memory, some time after the event. Subsequently I’ve managed to trace the exact date it happened to Thursday, 28th September 1967 when the Pink Floyd played ‘The Skyline Ballroom’ in Hull, and I was in town for college. I used the comprehensive Floyd chronology appendix to ‘Madcap’ by Tim Willis to do this -, my only qualification now is that it might not have been a Transit van, it might have been in the days before Transits were generally available for bands to use, possibly it was a Thames van…?)



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Sacred Elephant by Heathcote Williams

sacred elephant
























More info and video:

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Some things have slid by unquestioned for so long that somebody had to bring them up.In this timely collection of short, eloquent stabs at accepted fact, Malcolm Mc Neill finally runs some ID on the wise guy – Homo sapiens – the self proclaimed, ‘smartest’ thing on the planet. With its entourage of sacred cows, naked emperors and woefully inadequate gods, it’s now getting ready to carry its convictions into space. From beef jerky theme parks to one-legged pigs… ticked off cannibals to cast iron drawers… stuttering prophets to born again bugs … Mc Neill reveals that its claims are far from convincing.These wickedly erudite skewerings are an informative and surprisingly original way of seeing the most obvious things differently. “It’s a madhouse down here”… best find a quiet spot to read and at least have a laugh.
The author’s most recent books about his friendship and creative interaction with William Burroughs were published by Fantagraphics in 2012 – Observed While Falling: Bill Burroughs, Ah Pook & Me and The Lost Art of Ah Pook is Here: Images from the Graphic Novel. He lives in New York.
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Seemed to me
The epitomy
Of all that was wrong
With the world
Let alone with western
His violent will to win
His sneering grin
When his cheating ways
Were rewarded
With ugly victory
By the ice-cold powers
That be
Rather than disqualification
And shame
For his annihilation
Of sporting grace
In the name of naked gain

Seemed to me
The personification
Of neo-liberal greed
Almost a caricature
Of its psychotic creed
The Red Baron
Sneering through
Cascades of champagne
After another
Routine victory
Won by money
And power
And the same old
Same old
Simian chain
Of brutal domination
And gleeful pain

Every man
In Asia
Every man
In Africa
Is like every man
In Europe
And America
A man who dreams
Of cars
Bigger faster
More powerful cars
Virile cars
Fantasy fuck cars
Or even just a motor
For a third world voter
Any old heap of shit
For the billions of men
Who can’t afford it

Seemed to me
Like the slickest
Car salesman
Of them all
Fueling dreams
Around the globe
Of a richman’s manhood
A winner’s load
Crazy dreams of victory
Fuck the rest
It’s all about me
Fuck the fumes
Fuck the warming
Jealous losers
Fuck their ‘warnings’
Commie bullshit
Hippy scum
Drippy lectures
Bongo drums

Now lies in a coma
The thought occured
It might be karma
My poster-boy
For evil incarnate
Fighting for his life
As if his trauma
(From a speed addiction)
Was cosmic payback
For his petrol-headed
War on flora and fauna
For his desecration
Of sporting glory
For his happy
Of Dawkins’ story

Michael please
Forgive me
My moment of
Monkey glee
At your expense
I have recently
Become aware
Of mortality
And the fragility
Of absolutely
And the impossibility
Of victory
(Beyond a game)
At the expense
Of anybody else
I wish you
A speedy recovery
A joyful return to your
And a fresh discovery
Of all that is precious
Of all that we treasure
Of all that we measure
In love


Roddy McDevitt
Pic: Claire Palmer


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The Special Relationship

special relationship









When William Hague,
The Foreign Secretary,
Visited Japan

He said to the Mayor
Of Hiroshima,
“Everywhere else

We’ve been in Japan, the streets
Have been higgledy-piggledy.
Yet here in Hiroshima

Your streets are laid out
In a well-organized grid.
How did you achieve that?”

Quietly, the Japanese Mayor
Informed the MP, “We had some help.
From the Americans.”

Imperviously, the Foreign Secretary
Now drools over his Special Relationship
With the United States.

Seven days a week,
The demands of the CIA and the Pentagon
Are met with and serviced.

‘Please do let us bend over
So you can kick us harder
Or fuck us up the arse.

‘House your nuclear bombs
In England’s green and pleasant land?
No probs. Be our guest.

‘Take over our commons
For use as your military bases
With all your own laws?

‘Neo-con us all,
Then kill our teenage soldiers
With your ‘friendly fire’?

‘Happy to oblige
For old times’ sake. After all
We speak the same language.’

But the shared language spoken
In the Foreign Office is still that
Of an Imperialist elite –

A foul, crass language
Whose words are radio-active
And which gets people killed.

Thanks to Iraq and Afghanistan
America’s chickens come home to roost,
And they can come anywhere.

“But Britain must help out,”
Insists the Foreign Secretary,
“In the fight against terror” –

Whilst he snuggles up
To the greatest threat to world peace
The world has ever known.

British soldiers are thus burdened
With the ‘Special Relationship’
Thanks to their government –

Though they nickname those they’re forced
To fight beside, the Yanks, the ‘septic tanks’,
Or ‘seppos’, and with a penetrating contempt

Observe that they have “all the gear and no idea”.
It’s known the ignorant can cause a deal of damage
And, with its thousand bases worldwide

And its destructive mind-set, America isn’t short of space
In which to prove that thesis to be true –
Whilst its ‘exceptionalism’ persuades America

That subordinate powers exist to smooth its passage
Then to wipe America’s butt after they’ve been shat upon…
Those who refuse are ‘anti-American’, and its enemy.


Heathcote Williams
Illustration: Duncan Long


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Secret Space Event







“Space can be mapped and crossed and occupied without definable limit; but it can never be conquered.” Arthur C Clarke
“I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the door, “and others see my dreams. That is all.” David Lindsay, A Voyage to Arcturus
“That night, at the northern end of Italy, perhaps because I was in a foreign town, when I looked up at the black sky and the stars, it occurred to me I might be looking at several universes. They all pretended to be parts of one, but underneath the masquerade, they were quite different, and I only saw the one that was familiar.” Jon Rappoport, The Underground
Space is real. The consensus space we all perceive and operate in is real. The space an individual discovers for himself is real. And the space an artist, or anyone living a creative life, invents is real.
Space does not start from a material place. It doesn’t start from the brain. The brain and the rest of the body follow suit once space is in the process of coming into being.
Space is, in that sense, a spiritual quality. 
Everyone wants more space….this is the urge of the individual soul.
Plato was, on the other hand, a space program. He reasoned that there must be a separate realm where all meanings were final and perfect. Proprietary space. The Vatican has been a space program. Its cosmology is a final description of space. Closed, not open. All of Western metaphysical philosophy is a space program….it shrinks what can be contained in space. The history of priest classes on this planet is a space program: the description of what is in space and what isn’t. Exclusive space, owned by the privileged few.
Key precepts of physics compose a space program: energy cannot be created or destroyed; unused energy falls into a special bullpen—entropy. These are massively insane ideas.
Modern psychiatry is a space program—defining states of mind as disorders without evidence…attempting to tell us what “spatial” states of mind we tend to inhabit. Another priest class.
GMO crops are a space program—protected patents on the insertion of genes into plants, randomly…that is a controlled and owned space.
Transhumanism is a space program. It wants to create a collective territory in which all human brains are linked to a super-computer, where all knowledge is defined and downloaded.
Collectivism, overt and covert, is a space program, in which some vague syrupy notion of togetherness is placed ahead of the individual and his uniqueness, “for the good of all.”
These are all space programs, because they define what is in those spaces and rule out what cannot be there.
The Surveillance State is, of course, a space program, because it seeks to limit what can happen in thoughts and in speech. Less space. Constricted space.
The individual wants more and freer space. This is a basic urge that is, at bottom, a creative impulse.
Painters understand that in their bones, because they are always inventing new spaces.
When I started painting in 1962, my life changed overnight. Every aspect of it changed. I finally decided I would invent space and imbue it with my own thoughts, ideas, feelings, come hell or high water. And no one would have the right to dictate terms—the very idea of that happening was the height of absurdity. I obtained the dose of a tonic that could come in no other way. There was no need to compromise, adjust, or pay special homage.
If every individual shoved in his chips on a creative declaration of independence, we would have a different world. It wouldn’t be a single world. It would proliferate spaces into an open society unprecedented in the history of this planet.
At the root, this is why, historically, various leaders and groups determined they needed a “space program.” They wanted to enclose, limit, and shut down creative force, which is to say, authentic spiritual force. 
Space is a fundamental aspect of the soul….free, open. The history of life on this planet is about limiting space and defining it and claiming it is owned by the few.
These are not trivial factors. They are incursions on the soul’s desire to have space and define it and create it.
So it is no surprise that a shadow government would try to own outer space and populate it with weapons and use it for mind control. I have no doubt that frequencies beamed from space would be used in an attempt to lock down consciousness on this world and eliminate private spaces.
The creative individual brushes this off like a few flies at a picnic, because he is not subscribing to any program. The commercial concentrate of humanity’s obsessions is meaningless to him, because it is reduced down to senseless remorse.
Jon Rappoport

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The Grass

grass 1



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ruben 12

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The Long Poem

long poem








The  long poem is drawn out like graphite rods
raising my centigrade, my chaos of nuclear gasses
for my long lines are melting, the linear bedtime story
in the safe-rooms of Enlightenment – the  long-lost locked room mystery…
… collapsed in gulps and weights of hot metal, regurgitated gold bile
and the flower-bedecked raves are festivals of desperado recycling
the West is a boiled submarine
we tremble before the Unfuckables with kalashnikovs
hooting Allah Akbar from the high ground of digitised  martyrdom


a collective noun behind the mise-en-scene narrated our monetised death jump
(SHOW-TIME! sponsoring oil-drenched camels nibbling the Queen’s Baton)
you and I mean you click-through reincarnation as an addiction
self-flagellantes cruise lobbies of the dead
ready for to carry me home let’s give the Illuminati a go
all I can do is routine about Anthony Blair, the ultimate selfie, and his sacraments of bread’n’blood
…knavish red-eyed demon is a great traitor to these islands and should be quartered at Tyburn, his vitals to be thrown to the hounds. A pox on him!
telly-tubby antics  in the glassy desert…


The Peoples of the Book ripped up/off each other’s First Editions
each page from the finest skin of girls and babies slightly foxed
to fit their agendas of slicing post-human genitalia
Rival monopolies of the Near Death Experience
jostling in Jerusalem for market control as I fondled my smart slab
to flip into uploads:  severed heads/last night’s paella/bomblet celebrations/
poor little cats/the black/ blackening flags of St George,
even your personalised Russian bride in red rubber
but the Pentagon has Jesus on stand-by in a flying saucer,  all is well…


All is the omnivore stalking you and the kids in the TV movie they have made all about you
in which you consume your own toes and work upwards to fall off the ladder
slaving to my inner banker for quantified appropriate beans and re-formed porkers
I have no choice but to re-invent the author and slip into my own body for an ID change
lively up my personics to talk the walk-through (a blizzard of signals and fractured crystals)
experiencing quite an increase in Tulpa activity of late I got Goth Wookie
to centre myself into the exploded moment, it’s right here, in Hastings
in some fattened mums dragging their kids swollen with dog-food around and around
a circus for IDS the Quiet Killers of ATOS and government by egg-faced management


The long poem stretches me in nine dimensions I shall run out of space-time screaming
for refuge in a black notebook where I ate fast food at the base of the World-Tree
my footfall was in Malkuth, the Earth-Sphere, a sun-spotted day in London Town
humans in perpetual motion on the other side of the glass, sixty women a minute, the male glaze
over hijabs, those pert bums, the long march of my ant-people across Pleistocene ice-plains…
Are we, ladies and lads, a story arc directed by a future attractor, morphogenetic field-hands
on the bumpy time-scapes of space… Set the controls for the Black Sun!
eco collapse is a strategy of the world-mind/the cure for depression is jihad
my eye is in your black triangle – watch it…


The long poem is lined up against the wall to be branded before it is shot
No let us give a booby prize to the long poem it is more humane quite humungous
like a dose of ayahuasca  in the House of Commons Bar – George Osborne shitting in a vase
- the Woosterfarians yodelling this is not never the weapons system we commissioned -
meanwhile your long poem must get its marching orders  from Sun Ra via the Saturn hotline
at checkpoints for multi-temporal bifurcation/tectonic plate shifting/smash-up of the paradigms
where history splits its infinitives into moon walking homunculi/the intervention of insects
before the cells turn round and start wandering home to get spiked in the lobbies of Hyde Park
as massed faith school vuvuzelas proclaim end times and special offers on reconstituted flesh


The elongated poem voyages into blackness, all-corrosive nigredo ground-burst
as I’m struggling for my time allotted to out-think the blue sky-boxes, drill down into Being
before it’s even advertised by oligarchs banking their food against a collapse of watch-towers
no time to talk to a fistful of bent dripping coins  it’s red-eye alert in Phat City
sperm warfare those anti-sin ramparts excrete the gold bugs implanted earlier
don’t  filter my mucus my head is unmade like Tracey’s tarty old bed
the long poem must be uncompressed for I am the last of the Analogue Men
I’m spinning on the long-playing poem extruding my spider-map of bowels
from the epicentre of the galaxy according to latest reports I am going plasmatic


This poem is contracting as a consequence of globalisation saith the dead pundits
it will shrink unto itself like a reverse universe a glut of light on the Godscape
for the West has briefly fizzled and phuts into a great brain of dark matter
dreaming of Space Virgins of the Third Reich © and Barbie-dogs rescued on the Lost Ark
or the jingle-jangle Singularity, seven billion bugged copies of it rewiring our queasy wetware
I am in a force-field  of shadow photons, sickly as a puree of dead parrots
artisan cuisine for whitefolks  frolic  – the mystery brain has runaway with its night train
flash back to Children of the Lost Planet/Crash of the Red Moon/blind groping of the Triffids
my trove buried in our Gestaltbunker your ontology on the over-ride to a dead end


The long lost poem went time-worming into the wrong hole
for we are all coded from junk DNA bearing alien assembly instructions
my neurons have already made up my mind  but meanwhile the long poem drones on in Urdu
heat-seeking readers in Waziristan knitting their waistcoats of martyrdom
William Hague still sitting in the lap of George Bush his oaken mouth clacking open and shut
The Bush paints Antony Blair by numbers a brush strapped to his pizzle
and assorted  pre-loved naughty bytes are frantically sorted by the Tarot Readers of Cheltenham
- it must be in there somewhere that sigil of zero, the Salafist Dada Nihilismus…
HOW SAVE OUR CHILDREN FROM THE HEAT DEATH?   I cannot stop the Long Poem -



Paul A Green
Pic Claire Palmer


Paul A. Green  is  a writer based in Hastings.  His work includes poetry:The Gestaltbunker – Selected Poems 1965-2010 (Shearsman Books), as well as fiction: The Qliphoth (Libros Libertad); Beneath the Pleasure Zones (Mandrake of Oxford) and various plays: The Dream Laboratory (CBC); Ritual of the Stifling Air (BBC); Power Play (Capital); The Mouthpiece (Resonance FM); Terminal Poet  (New Theatre Works) ; Babalon (Travesty Theatre) The Voice Collection (RTE)




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Our Gang




















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King of the Jews by Margaret Barker













Book Review

Temple Theology: An Introduction and King of The Jews
Dr Margaret Barker


First, I must admit the charge of partiality.

My knowledge of the true origin of the Church has been guided by the wise, and sometimes humorous, scholarship and observations of Dr Barker. She came highly recommended, by no less an eminence than an Archbishop of Canterbury.  I could hardly ignore the implicit command to read her work. I did. It changed everything. All credit to His Grace, he was spot on.
But it’s easy to wax lyrical over the work of those we admire, more difficult to explain it to those whom it does not interest, but whom you know should be interested. This is life enhancing, life changing stuff for the very reason that our entire outlook on life and the world around us has been shaped by the themes that Dr Barker elaborates on and demystifies.
Of course, what I mean by this last point is that Christianity seems, to many of us, to be a world of riddles: we look at them – some of us have practiced them, some still do – and then occasionally, in a seemingly rational world, we get the entirely reasonable urge to dismiss the whole malarkey as hocus pocus or, as my American friends would say ‘woo woo.’

So forgive my enthusiasm but it might assure you to know that Dr Barker’s work is entirely founded upon the solid rock of surety; surety in the form of a common sense approach that throws aside the veil and allows us, just for one brief moment, to glimpse the entire mystical apparatus of Christian ritual and liturgy in such an obvious, but unexpected, way that you’ll laugh out loud at those whose form of reverence has clouded their ability to see that, when God created the universe, He created rational thought in the process. As Theophrastus once put it: ‘Superstition is cowardice in the Face of God.’
Couldn’t have said it better myself: from Adam and Eve to right here, right now we were supposed to be inquiring, rational and reasonable. The world around us is what it is a result of this amazing ability: ergo, the humble urge to give praise has always been driven by this fact.
Some of us were even created in order to attain wisdom. The idea that God could suspend His own physical laws to prove a miraculous point goes against all the democratic sense of nature as created by God. Thus the miracles are revealed, in Dr Barker’s work, as metaphors or as points of teaching by Jesus, who sought to supersede the religion introduced by Moses who himself had superseded the earlier cult of the feminine Wisdom.
It may come as a shock to realize that the older prophets, Isaiah and Ezekiel and others did not know Moses. The introduction of the Mosaic cult took place very late on when the ancient Solomonic temple became the target of sweeping reform in around 600 BCE.

Just this little point changes immediately our perception of what happened in the Middle East in that period. It was the period when the world became the domain of the masculine. ‘God without Goddess is spiritual insufficiency’ said the Greeks and they should know, for they too were the keepers of the flame of the older temple – a strand that runs throughout their mythology and tradition, at the forefront of which was the figure of Wisdom. It is fascinating to think that Pythagoras may well have encountered the Hebrew prophet, Ezekiel in Babylon – the dates coincide and later tradition suggests that such a meeting occurred.
 The figure of Wisdom was associated with all manner of things Pythagorean: Mathematics, Astronomy, Astrology and Geometry. There was an astronomical observation platform on the roof of the Ancient Temple in Jerusalem. That which Pythagoras accrued from Ezekiel must have been treasure indeed. Even the very gates of the city of Jerusalem were marker points in the observation of the sun at the solstices and equinoxes. These were the great days when religion was not sundered from science and Wisdom reigned.  

How interesting it is that Wisdom, in the ancient Hebrew system, was feminine. Thousands of years later it might still seem to be a man’s world, but such an observation only serves to outline the fundamental tragedy of the lost feminine in Christianity. 
Female scholars in this particular field are, and have been, given a very hard time. One thinks of the recent attacks on the Cambridge classicist Mary Beard or the ferocity of the attacks on Prof Karen King at Harvard for daring to suggest that a Coptic papyrus fragment might, only might, mention a marriage of Jesus and Mary. Wisdom brought civilization taught us to calm our benighted passions and to channel them into all that is good: into intellectual enquiry, into wise assessment and lucid conclusion and affirmation, where possible.

However, to chaps of a certain persuasion who just cannot help themselves this is a red rag to a bull (the bull in the Canaanite mythology was the son of the high god, El and his wife Asherah.) As Abraham Lincoln once said ‘better to be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.’ From the viewpoint of some of these voices you get the idea that the supernatural is not really so super after all: their idea of Jesus is straight out of DC comics, which is fine if you like your films overdone in the FX department, but this is to miss the point. The superhero comes to save, to rescue damsels from burning buildings and etc.
However, what if it is the damsel who is doing the saving? And what if she is doing it in the most magisterial way? By saving you from within. Just think of it, no need to doll yourself up in an expensive costume, no need to overdo the make up and the FX and to go around destroying all and sundry in a way that says ‘Hi, I‘m here to save you’ only to be saved, but to look around and, in seeing the utter devastation, think to yourself: ‘was it really worth it?’
A woman? They question. Bit embarrassing, what? But why should it be?
This is precisely the point Jesus was trying to reveal. And it has taken a woman to point it out. (At this point I would like to add that it is now odds on that some kind of abuse will be forthcoming – just wait and see; it’s as certain as death and taxes.)

These are works of great originality but they are also gently compelling, so much so that they begin to stick to you like glue. With quiet purpose Dr Barker unravels the voices of the past and re-engages them in a conversation with today. Here’s an example:

One thing has become quite clear: the original gospel message was about the temple, not the corrupted temple of Jesus’ own time, but the original temple which had been destroyed some six hundred years earlier. All that remained were memories, and the hope that one day the true temple and all it represented would be restored. Jesus was presented as the high priest from the first temple; Melchizedek returned to his people. The restoration of the first temple was the hope of the first Christians, and to set them, their writings and their presentation of Jesus anywhere else than in the temple setting distorts what they were preaching and misrepresents the original gospel.

This is from the Introduction and it is dynamic in the sense that the message is laid down loud and clear. This is extraordinary and you can see why Temple Studies is taking off in the USA. It gives, for the first time, a clear picture of the past. When you see the story of Jesus in this context suddenly it all begins to take on a clarity that was missing before and made some of what he says in the gospels strange reading. From this angle we can suddenly see why the Dead Sea Scrolls in this same context are documents of immeasurable importance. They too talk about the first temple, they too see the temple of Jesus’ time as impure and they too hark back to the days when the science of observation was not prone to religious literalism.
From this point on it is also easy to see aspects of this visionary sense of the old temple in the architecture of Christianity – who can possibly not be moved by the sight of the great Gothic cathedrals of Europe? The New Testament, particularly the Book of Revelation is nothing if it is not architectural, as Dr Barker says, it is the key to understanding Christian imagery.
When I was working on my first book, a thesis on the sacred space and the nature of resonance I couldn’t help but be struck by the sheer mystical quality of Christian architecture at its best. The element of acoustics is particularly striking – it is what grabs you when, at particular times of the year and at particular times of the day, you enter in and, if you are in the right frame of mind, are struck by it. The reaction is an emotional one, as well as being deeply mystical. Have you heard the choirs singing the old hymns in these places come Christmas time? Dr Barker makes a series of good points in this context. For one thing she points out that the idea of ‘God created…’ is mistaken: it is ‘God creates…’, no past tense, it is an ongoing process. This is the sense of it in Church ritual. This must have been the sense of it in the ancient temple. What an extraordinary place it must have been.
If these aspects are what was present in the first temple then it is easy to see why the memory remains strong; but perhaps her most striking discovery is that John’s Gospel and the Book of Revelation are the key to Christian understanding. That Jesus entered the forbidden place, the Holy of Holies and there had a vision described by John in the last book of the Bible.
She also goes on to demonstrate that beyond all doubt that Jesus was crucified as Jesus the Nazorean – not Jesus of Nazareth. The Nazoreans were the guardians, the keepers of secrets, of the old ways. Jesus, as the last King of Israel was protecting those ways and seeking their restoration.  Nazareth very probably did not exist.
Again another bombshell: Jesus was resurrected at his baptism. The post-resurrection teachings are those that took place after this event. As the later Gospel of Philip states, you have to be resurrect before you die – it makes no logical sense that it can only take place after death, except, that is, if it is spiritual death.
Then there is the fact that Jesus began his ministry at the outset of a Great Jubilee. Every seven years was a Sabbath year. Every 49 years was a Jubilee year, a week of weeks. Every 490 years was the Great Jubilee in which the covenant with creation was renewed – inside the Holy of Holies: the very heart of the Ancient Solomonic Temple: you stepped inside there at your peril: the very Presence of God was said to be there.  The Great Jubilee lasted fifty years. Jesus renewed the covenant by becoming himself the sacrifice. His act of utter obedience to what he believed was there for the common good of all humanity was to leave a gift, the gift of self-awareness, making us aware of all around us, of its intrinsic miraculous nature. The Temple was heaven on earth and therefore, for Jesus as King/high priest death was but an illusion – his act was to become part of the phenomena of science by appealing to the science within us all. For two thousand years we have questioned this act and even gone to war on it, too many times to count, but if you also read the Gnostic texts after reading these works you will wonder anew at the Gnostic sense of the scientific and see that these are not the words of heretics but that they were, as Dr Barker acknowledges, part of the thinking during the time of Jesus. They are nothing less than the science of Wisdom.
What Margaret Barker does is to take away the unreasonable and then, seemingly, with a wave of her hand, apply reason to make distortion clear.  In an age of polarity when one must almost always seem to be at one extreme or another she represents the reasonable middle ground, the same ground that was inhabited by the early Christians.
I cannot recommend these and other of her works more earnestly if you want to really begin to appreciate the truth of the matter. At the end of the journey the sheer beauty of what happened two thousand years ago emerges – it is a tragedy that it remains but one rare naked singularity of human insight soon to be clothed in the distortions that humanity all too frequently insists upon. Perhaps this is why the timing is curious – the year after next coincides with the next Great Jubilee – we need to renew our covenant with our planet, let alone creation.
Now is the time to renew our interest in this matter.

David Elkington



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Heavy Metal











‘You should be miserly with your energy’.
C. Castaneda


Heavy Metal

Gravity is the most powerful force in the human experience and to oppose this force requires energy.

Fortunately, humans have been endowed with a bony skeletal framework which, with the cooperation of various muscles they may, through complex leverage, haul themselves, (against the pull of the earth’s gravity), into an erect posture.

Without this skeleton of course the operation might be rather more difficult.

The human, now in this erect position, must lift one foot (against the pull of gravity), swing it forwards and then allow gravity to pull it back down again.

Then the other foot likewise, (with a similar expenditure of energy)

This action is commonly known as ‘walking’.

All resistance to this planet’s gravity costs energy, therefore to carry lumps of heavy metal around in one’s pocket or bag might (under these circumstances) seem rather foolish; particularly if that metal is virtually worthless and the energy thus expended – wasted.

One and two ‘P’ pieces, (brown ones), are fashioned from a rather heavy base metal, and to carry such a dead weight around all day uses a measurable amount of energy.

Therefore one might say that since they are virtually worthless they should just be thrown away; or better still, unloaded onto someone who will welcome the extra weight, and so revolutionise the economy at the level where it really matters – the street.

Every beggar presents an opportunity to save some energy by unloading a significant amount of weight. 

Were this to become a common practice beggars would certainly be rather more affluent at minimal expense, and the electorate would literally walk with a lighter step.

So give them your brown ones.
They’re worth fuck-all anyway.
Don’t waste energy.
Get rid of that weight.
Walk lighter and…

 Give them your brown ones!


Dave Tomlin
Art Nick Victor


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Dharma Rain Jazz 2











Sometimes I wake up at midnight
to pour some milk to the cat
and then I go back to sleep
only to dream how I’m buying a new water heater.

Sometimes I cry while preparing lunch
over destiny of nineteen Syrian refugees
caught in a train somewhere in Croatia.
Sometimes I play
Crosby, Stills & Nash’s
„ Lady of the island“
and my tears seem so naive untill I look at my skin
and realize I’m growing fish scales of solitude on it.
Sometimes I aloud Sun to soften me.
And then all of my hesitation disappears.
At least for a minute.

Finally, some truths need to come out of the closet.
Together with monsters.

I keep you under the radar,
right here in my heart atrium.
You and three others
I keep  in my wallet
in my underwear
in my tax return application form.

But only because of you
I cry every time someone mentions lighthouses.

Sometimes I get mummified by smoke
and then I think everything will turn out fine.


I squeeze all of our dreams between my thighs,
 train platforms
and akward insinuations.

There’s nothing in here that you can love
or wipe the tears while someone’s howling at Pluto.
There’s nothing in here that you can love
so let’s just stop pretending.
We’re running out of time
while I’m exploring that dangeorus substance on your lips.
Chemical weapons, some might call it.


Dharma Rain Jazz
Art Nick Victor

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The Anatomy of Cyborg Man












Overcoming the Mechanistic Mind

In ‘The Transhumanist Singularity – The Ultimate Escapism’, I attempted to address the supposedly imminent take-over of humanity by a computer controlled technology designed by people who have usurped their free will to that of a machine.

It became evident in researching the background to the Transhumanist agenda, that not only ‘eugenics’ but also ‘reductivism’ – the reducing of all human life to a gene – is a central component of the techno anti-life blueprint.

I am thankful for William Engdahl in pointing out that after World War Two and the horrors of Auschwitz , the term ‘eugenics’ acquired a bad reputation, so the name was changed to ‘genetics’: which, as in reductivism, is about the reducing of human life to a gene. This enables genetic engineers to manipulate the expression of that gene so that it becomes dominant and takes complete control over other life forms.

Here we find a direct connection with GMO: the altering of a plant or animal’s genetic make-up in order to programme into it a set of reactions designed to fit the requirements of corporatized global agriculture. Requirements in which nature’s way of doing things is deemed inferior to man’s – and genetic reprogramming – via laboratory intervention – superior to discovering and working together with the unfolding pulse of universal creation.

In this we see the cyborg mentality clearly emerging, with its seemingly fixated tunnel vision mentality wedded to an advanced state of delusional hubris. In truth this is an apt enough definition of clinical insanity.

However, the reason why the social services do not rush to the rescue of those suffering this sort of dementia, is that the system in which such services operate is itself deeply influenced by the same underlying sickness. Varying degrees of clinical insanity are prevalent throughout all areas of the status quo, leading to the fact that ‘mad scientist syndrome’ does not stand out sufficiently strongly from what surrounds it to attract undue or special attention.

Given that this is the case, we must conclude that a great part of society is already captive to a creeping robotic sickness which is part and parcel of the general dumbing down programme to which humanity has succumbed over recent decades.

I wish to make reference here to a comment that appeared under my Transhumanist Singularity article in a well-known alternative blog site. You will no doubt see why I decided to re-post it once you have absorbed its contents. The paragraph quoted is part of a longer comment, but is sufficiently succinct to stand alone as an expression of the intent of the author:

“Transhumanism is nothing more than using technology to progressively exceed all the limitation, flaws, mistakes and genetics that amount to poor design which we were born as prisoners into and had no say about. I think the people that want the world of inherited sickness, injury-potential, degeneration of aging (and death itself) and scarcity are the crazy ones. Since there seems to be no god loving enough to correct all these flaws no matter how many billions of prayers are ever uttered it sort of goes without saying that practical transhumanists have no alternative except to resort to technology and their own work and research to try and fix these failings.”

It would be easy to dismiss this statement as just the cynical outpouring of a techno-obsessed nerd. However, upon closer inspection, it reveals a way of thinking which is common to many science and finance trained minds operating behind the scenes today. Particularly one should note the author’s view that we are all born into a world of ‘poor design’ full of ‘limitations, flaws, mistakes and genetic traits’ to which we are ‘prisoners’ and have no say about.

Transhumanists, the author states “have no alternative except to resort to technology and their own work and research to try and fix these failings.”

While this is obviously a case of ‘man playing God’ – one has to remind one’s self that the Transhumanist does not believe in any form of supreme entity. It is technical proficiency, leading to a perfection of emotionless functionality, which is instead held to be the supreme goal of the human race. That state would presumably fit the bill of having ironed-out all the flaws inherent in the original design.

This dream of mechanised flawless robotic perfection links with Newtonian physics. In Newton’s theory, the spheres move mechanically across the heavens providing an absolute order in which everything falls into place with predictable, clockwork precision. If such an arrangement were to be seen as somehow of superior efficiency to a world guided by the variability of human emotions, then one can see why certain schools of science might declare man to be a ‘poor design’ and generally inferior to the surety and safety provided by the Newtonian model.

Computers also offer the safety and predictability of a Newtonian design which ‘obeys’ a mechanistic principle. To those who suffer a deep fear of the unknown and who have never sampled – or have rejected – the warm and loving characteristics inherent in humanity, a computerised overlord offers a kind of safe haven.

Complete predictability, born out of a multiplication of sexless logical algorithms, is the same psychology that much of modern advertising uses to sell its ‘perfect couples’ with their ‘perfect toothpaste tube smiles’ and ‘perfect children’, ‘perfect house’ and of course ‘perfect weed-free garden.’ Not to mention all other perfect packaged consumables which supermarkets have redesigned as an expression of the mind control methodology Edward Bernays first brought into prominence during the 1920’s.

The concept of ‘perfection’ – defined as something in which all ‘traits’ have been removed – is thus the model of cyborgian man.

For that vision to gain widespread traction, its creators have to first define what ‘the problems’ are (that need removing) and then come up with a rarefied model of a ‘problem free’ look-alike. Then, using the devious powers of modern advertising – attract the masses to imitate (or purchase) this model.

Such a trait to a supermarket is for example, a curved banana. Because one cannot fit as many curved bananas onto a standard supermarket shelf as largely straight bananas. Here we see how the logic of profit driven mass production demands the alteration of nature in order to comply with its objectives.

Once such a formula is set in motion, the public must then be made to believe that such foods are ‘superior’ to those that don’t conform to this particular vision of perfection. This is achieved by indoctrination: conveying the impression that trait-free ‘healthy’ bananas grow straight and that all others are inferior. The straighter the banana the more pure it is – and the more easily identifiable with some form of purified genetic stock. A direct continuation of the Nazi eugenics formula for the ascension of the blond haired, blue eyed ‘Ubermensch’.

If you cast your mind over the format for the materialistic modern world, you will recognise the replication of this mass-production standardised formula everywhere you look; and in the case of the globalised food industry – the take-over is almost complete.

In fact monoculture, the agrichemically assisted continuous growing of one or two types of crop on the same land year after year to the exclusion of any other species, is straight out of the ‘man playing God’ manual. Using toxic chemicals to achieve the complete exclusion of nature’s expression in favour of man’s – has been responsible for an unprecedented decline of natural biodiversity on a global scale for the past century or more.

So when genetically modified seeds and plants are introduced into already agrichemical dominated monocultures, to the instigator it is no more than the continuation of an existing pattern of ‘man over nature’ innovations. But follow it through and one sees that the ultimate end game is a complete take-over of the food chain. One in which a man made and controlled intervention ensures that nature’s predications and inclinations are one hundred percent excluded.

Do you see how this exactly parallels the Transhumanist ambitions for Cyborg man?

What I am suggesting is that Cyborg man is already present in the majority of top down hierarchical scientific and quasi scientific ambitions. And within the institutions that make up the kernel of the military industrial complex, global banking, energy and pharmaceutical monoliths, not to mention governments acting as the ‘democratic stewards’ of the whole infernal circus.

We can only affectively counteract this cyborgian mind set by understanding how it ticks – getting under its skin – and then subverting it.

Ultimately, we find that the Illuminati influence – which is pervasive throughout the political status quo – reveals a line of connection to certain Masonic/Luciferian ambitions and practices into which the cyborg mentality neatly fits. This in turn leads back to the extra-terrestrial god-kings whom Illuminati initiates claim an extended blood-line connection with.

Could it be that these Transhumanist and cyborg devotees are responding to an (as yet uninterrupted) line of instruction that emanates from interbreeding Illuminati power worshippers?


If so, it could explain a lot about why they would believe that sentient human existence is full of ‘limitations, flaws and genetic mistakes’ – and why the only way to overcome these ‘failures’ is to bring life under the control of a technologically refined robot programmed to simulate the human – but with all elements that deviate from a Godless algorithmically programmed cyborg – systematically removed.

Here lies a great clue for we who carry the torch of real humanity onward. It is our imperative to free ourselves and those who we seek to make aware, from any influence that this alien underworld may hold. For it is a world whose sinister deviations from the Tao of deeper human destiny are the work of dark side quasi-geniuses. Those whose reversed logic carries within it a very real appeal to the weak minded and spiritually impoverished and whose extraordinary self-sustained arrogance makes it appear impregnable to the true forces of universal love, art and all forms of joyous aspiration.

Under these circumstances we are called upon to fully open up untapped powers in ourselves and in others. Powers which are key to overcoming all attempts to hijack the human race and this Planet Earth, our home. That is the imperative of this time.

We are faced by a challenge which is the ultimate challenge of all challenges: to overcome the temptation to be seduced into failing to rise to the Godly qualities with which we have been endowed from birth. The only qualities that ensure certain victory for that which is allied to Divine.

For we will undoubtedly need to draw upon that extraordinary well-spring if we are to overcome the cyborg mentality which is its chief opposition.

In this deeply perplexing, unfathomable and yet wondrous game called life, these two forces now stand head to head. We have arrived at the final door. A door which determinedly blocks the full emancipation of the human condition. Rise to the challenge of pushing open this door – and we will become an unstoppable force – no matter what further obstructions are thrown in our path.


Julian Rose
Collage: Peter Strange Yumi




More penetrating essays in Julian’s acclaimed book ‘In Defence of Life’ now available at, independent book stores and Julian’s website:


Julian Rose is an early pioneer of UK organic farming, an international activist and writer. He is currently president of The International Coalition to Protect the Polish Countryside.







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Dead Beat Escapism

IB reading Dead Beat Escapism. Original text here as published in issue 9 of the Coelacanth Journal.



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After three days of breathing
Fumes from the Champs-Élysées,
An experimental rat will die.

Human beings die in wars over oil:
They squabble over their rightful portion
Although the oil’s gleaned from armed robberies.

Great puddles of oil are incinerated
In a global blood sacrifice; an injurious conflagration
With engines of destruction sucking on arteries of oil.

The particulates from vehicle exhaust
Enter man’s brain cells and cause mayhem.
Man is suffocating by degrees and going mad.

Both in mice and in men the minute particles
Enter the brain and produce a white glutamate:
An excess of glutamate damages and kills neurons.

This fume-spawned glutamate generates free radicals
In the cells that the fumes excite. Signals are disrupted.
Mental disorder results. Schizophrenia. Autism.

The hellish vapors of pandemonium wreak untold havoc:
Atmospheric pollution or, very simply, dirty air
Is tied in with honeybee collapse, cancer and dementia.

Heartless particulates enter heart tissue to weaken it.
Vascular units in hospitals fill with amputee patients
Gasping for air; their limbs lost to clogged circulation.

Billions are spent trying to find magic pills to shoo off
The foul air’s tumors and its invisible, strangling cobwebs.
Karma cackles as man’s too enfeebled to face the cause.

ratman 3








Man kills his own offspring and destroys their brains
In a offering to Moloch, progress’s unacknowledged god.
Oil is the sacrament of man’s selfish fundamentalism.

Glamorous petrol-heads advertise the latest vehicle;
Ministers preach about the environment, yet all drive away
With man’s ability to walk and even his desire to think.


Heathcote Williams  
Art: Elena Caldera





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a IT a itback             A little bit of haiku for you to sit and peruse on the loo! A fun A-Zee of I want to be’s with original illustrations. Traditional-style haiku with a twist of zany humour, and some poignant poetics. A unique alphabetical list of seventeen syllable rhymes, together with some skillful visual interpretations, make Kevin Short and Nick Victor the perfect double-act.


itback itback

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Gas Masks @ the ready

From the series ‘How to Paint on Skid Row’ 2013, shown courtesy of the Anti-ESA League.


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Collagistes Collected 14























Olga Lupi




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Kosmos Before The Beginning











Photo: Magpie Jane


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Gurney’s Lament







(For Martin Seymour-Smith)

Do not forget me quiet, my screen of histories,
sudden sorted veils of Malvern fog, the Royal Colleges
of grasses, wood and wind, curtained triptych of examiners.
Part-songs crisp old scores, their dusks of flaky lemon blend
into Howells’ discipline, span his arched hand under
tangs of March and sky – fallen bright so they’ll not forget him.
They called me Schubert – (I talked to Ludwig Van . . .
Not here. Nor Marion, nor once sonorities listen . . .
It is these divides on, from a ground I couldn’t learn).
Lights Out, flare bracket settings, slice arcs – sing out of night
as if eclipsing me: their piano-wire shaves the moon’s dark cheese.
My first songs’ craft leaves its cold rind only in my arms.
Even that’s light under the nurse’s door, under the bridge
to those minor elegiac regrets of Stanford. Instruments
I couldn’t harmonise, brass dull buckling. So, here –
Put away your trumpet, stow its mute, shut shires. Play on
stanzas, hushed staves. My trajectory’s one voice only; accompanied
as I am, honest’s out of craft, of perfect conversation. 
Simon Jenner



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The Laws of Power


‘Governments always seek to control the judiciary.
Not because it is interested in justice,
but in order to legalise its own criminal activities.’

The Mister


The Laws of Power


‘Power’ might be considered an imbalance in the tensions arising from human interrelationships. There are two orders of power, and the first of these arises from the conflicts between disparate free will, resolved only by a clear winner who can subvert the other’s will to their own.

The second order of power is institutionalised, and this variation accumulates such great powers that no other power is large enough to subvert it.

Institutionalised power has five major branches:

The Judiciary
The Military
The Church.

These five branches are institutionally self-sufficient, and although their protagonists pass away the conceptual framework survives intact to be inherited by the next incumbent.

Subversion in common human power situations occurs in many ways, from the outright bully subverting by the use of fear; to all the subtleties of emotional blackmail, and can be seen commonly operating in the simplest forms.

Power can never concede defeat to a lesser power, else it become a lesser power itself.

Should a member of a power hierarchy appear threatened, all other members will close ranks to protect him/her lest they too become vulnerable to that threat.

This is demonstrated in Catholicism by the paedophile issues among priests still being protected by Rome.

And in politics by the Blair syndrome.

If a Prime Minister is revealed officially to have been corrupt/deceitful, then all following Prime Ministers might become susceptible to similar charges.

It is now the common consensus that a certain Prime Minister lied to the electorate over an issue  with (as is now plain to see), ghastly repercussions; and although common knowledge, these facts have yet to be officially conceded, and doubtless they never will – thus the closing of ranks, and hence the usual cover-ups and whitewashes.

Dave Tomlin
Art Nick Victor



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Tracing Heaven











High terrain
Of lust white flint soil where the globe was
Whether yours or mine, Picardy, when
Voices breath fester
A place where this happens standing or
To a few bars of ballad
Sigh single or in small groups
Approach to Albert
Our volunteers’ glade
Trees mount a rise
Large like them with packs
Burnt headless ghosts
Over to the left
Lies one felled
Town’s Phantoms
Dream-stirred cling
Sullen ash shadows shake the auberge
Too near my bed
Mud swirls
Thunder’s broken
To a non-attribution of bones
Roots of relatives
Corpses collected after shallows
After ploughing
It must have happened
As the drunk walk
By a cart with a spade
Mostly as burn onto shovel
Still burn
The slops that are local boys mixed
With lime
Chinese orderly unlucky unlucky
Frowns in a corner-edge grave
Ordinance heath-blasted
More underfoot
Still birth
Write it long
A year on from the end of still burning 
Best mate and lover
If everybody turned
And left
If everyone what
Past every house, new
And the churches, new
Re-gilded Madonna and abbreviated
Shovelled to order
Merge horses!
Creation didn’t follow. 
I will write this on sky
With you
The long avenue 
Chill shiver wind
Thiepval, again,
–Why are you here?


Phil Ruthen  

© Philip Ruthen 2010. Written largely in note form in situ
at Thiepval battlefields’ memorial, the memorial for the
hundreds of thousands of fallen combatants still ‘missing’
and below the earth of the Somme arenas, First World

 Montage: Claire Palmer




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Our Gang














Robert Tasher






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Is this why no-one found WMDs in Iraq?







Yes, prior to Gulf War 2, all sorts of people were lying about WMDs in Iraq. There was the whole business about the yellowcake and Niger, and Colin Powell speaking before the UN.

There was a WMD depot in Iraq that wasn’t a depot.

There were people who said they had secret evidence Saddam shipped weapons out of the country. And maybe they did have evidence.

But this is a different story. It involves the prospect of inspectors finding very serious weapons and then saying, “Wait! The weapons’ containers have American labels on them!”

That didn’t happen, but it could have. And then what a fiasco would have ensued, since the US government was about to wage war to “end Saddam’s threat.” Yet, the US had armed him.

In 1975, the US signed on to an international treaty banning the production, use, and stockpiling of biological weapons. Ditto for chemical weapons, in 1993. Another treaty.

Here’s a quote from the Washington Post (9/4/13, “When the US looked the other way on chemical weapons”): “…The administrations of Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush authorized the sale to Iraq of numerous items…including poisonous chemicals and deadly biological viruses, such as anthrax and bubonic plague…”

Between 1985 and 1989, a US 501C3 firm, American Type Culture Collection, sent Iraq up to 70 shipments of various biowar agents, including 21 strains of anthrax.

Between 1984 and 1989, the CDC (Centers for Disease Control) sent Iraq at least 80 different biowar agents, including botulinum toxoid, dengue virus, and West Nile antigen and antibody.

This information on the American Type Culture Collection and the CDC comes from a report, “Iraq’s Biological Weapons Program,” prepared by the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies (CNS).

Then we have a comprehensive article by William Blum in the April 1998 Progressive called “Anthrax for Export.” Blum cites a 1994 Senate report confirming that, in this 1985-1989 time period, US shipments of anthrax and other biowar agents to Iraq were licensed by…drum roll, cymbal crash…the US Dept. of Commerce.

Blum quotes from the Senate report: “These biological materials were not attenuated or weakened and were capable of reproduction. It was later learned that these microorganisms exported by the United States were identical to those the United Nations inspectors found and removed from the Iraqi biological warfare program.”

This 1994 Senate report also indicates that the US exported to Iraq the precursors for chemwar agents, actual plans for chemical and biowar production facilities, and chemical-warhead filling equipment. The exports continued until at least November 28, 1989.

Blum lists a few other biowar agents the US shipped to Iraq. Histoplasma Capsulatum, Brucella Melitensis, Clostridium Perfringens, Clostridium tetani–as well as E. coli, various genetic materials, human and bacterial DNA.

Blum also points out that a 1994 Pentagon report dismissed any connection between all these biowar agents and Gulf War Illness. But the researcher who headed up that study, Joshua Lederberg, was actually a director of the US firm that had provided the most biowar material to Iraq in the 1980s: the American Type Culture Collection.

Newsday revealed that the CEO of the American Type Culture Collection was a member of the US Dept. of Commerce’s Technical Advisory Committee. See, the Dept. of Commerce had to license and approve all those exports of biowar agents carried out by the American Type Culture Collection. Get the picture?

Now, as to other US companies which dealt biowar or chemwar agents to Iraq—all such sales having been approved by the US government—the names of these companies are contained in records of the 1992 Senate hearings, “United States Export Policy Toward Iraq Prior to Iraq’s Invasion of Kuwait,” Senate Report 102-996, Senate Committee on Banking Housing and Urban Affairs, 102d Congress, Second Session (October 27, 1992):

Mouse Master (Georgia), Sullaire Corp (Charlotte, North Carolina), Pure Aire (Charlotte, North Carolina), Posi Seal (Conn.), Union Carbide (Conn.), Evapco (Maryland), BDM Corp (Virginia), Spectra Physics (Calif.).

There are about a dozen more.

This also from the Blum article: “A larger number of American firms supplied Iraq with the specialized computers, lasers, testing and analyzing equipment, and other instruments and hardware vital to the manufacture of nuclear weapons, missiles, and delivery systems. Computers, in particular, play a key role in nuclear weapons development. Advanced computers make it feasible to avoid carrying out nuclear test explosions, thus preserving the program’s secrecy. The 1992 Senate hearings implicated [Hewlett Packard, Palo Alto, CA -- among others].”

Hewlett Packard said that the recipient of its shipments, Saad 16, was some sort of school in Iraq. But in 1990, the Wall St. Journal stated that Saad 16 was a “heavily fortified, state-of-the-art [Iraqi] complex for aircraft construction, missile design, and, almost certainly, nuclear-weapons research.”

There has been a considerable debate about whether Saddam hid some of his bio/chem weapons in Syria, to evade UN weapons inspectors. If he did, then is it possible the current situation in Syria has a few of its roots in the US? Is it possible some of Syria’s WMDs originally came from America?

If you review and think about all these WMD shipments from the US to Iraq, you understand there were many US officials and corporate employees who knew about them. Knew about them then, in the 1980s, and knew about them later, during 2 US wars in Iraq, when American soldiers were sent to Iraq, and could have been exposed to the bio/chem weapons.

And these officials and employees said nothing.

Officials at the CDC and the Dept. of Commerce said nothing. People at the American Type Culture Collection said nothing. People at the Pentagon and the CIA and the NSA said nothing. Presidents said nothing. Employees of the corporations who supplied germs and chemicals said nothing.

It’s clear that the US government shipped those bio/chem weapons to Iraq to aid it in its war against Iran. And yes, Iraq did use chemical weapons against Iran—and also against the Iraqi Kurds. Perhaps you remember that, much later, the US government repeated, over and over, “Saddam used chemical weapons against the Kurds, his own people,” as a reason for attacking Iraq.

So is there any limit beyond which the US government wouldn’t go to foment war, to wage war?

That’s a rhetorical question.

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world.



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Soldier, Soldier

“I would like to see every single soldier on every single side, just take off your helmet, unbuckle your kit, lay down your rifle, and set down at the side of some shady lane, and say nope I ain’t gonna kill nobody. Plenty of rich folks wants to fight. Give them the guns.”
Woody Guthrie

“The entire deaths of Vietnam died in vain. And they’re dying in vain right this very second. And you know what’s worse than a soldier dying in vain? It’s more soldiers dying in vain. That’s what’s worse.”
Mike Gravel

“The more I think about the problem of war, the more convinced I become that this problem can only be solved if people refuse to be soldiers. As long as every man declares himself prepared to kill those people his leader commands him to, there will be war, and it will be even more horrible than it is today.”
Leo Nicolayevich Tolstoy

“The US army is the biggest joke the world has to laugh at. It is the army of liars, backstabbers, fools, and bullies. The few good SGTs [sergeants] are getting out as soon as they can, and they are telling us privates to do the same.”
Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl, quoted by Michael Hastings, ‘America’s Last Prisoner of War’, Rolling Stone, June 12, 2012

“I would say that I’m a nonviolent soldier. In place of weapons of violence, you have to use your mind, your heart, your sense of humor, every faculty available to you…because no one has the right to take the life of another human being.”
Joan Baez

“In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.”
Jose Narosky, speech on Veterans Day 2010.

Anyone who’s been tempted to join the military;
To swear loyalty to Queen and Country;
To put on a uniform that they may never get off;
To believe the promise ‘you’ll never go hungry’ –

Should look at what’s behind the Army’s recruiting ads
And see in further detail what’s on offer –
For when a career can end with a coffin lid closing 
They may wonder if it’s worth the bother.













Throughout history soldiers have laid down their lives
Unappreciated by those whom they’ve died for:
Take the King of England killing pheasants at Sandringham
During the carnage of the First World War.











To the Duke of Wellington his soldiers were frightening scum,
And Napoleon jeered at his when their backs were turned,
“A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon
Then as soon as they were wounded they were spurned.

“If my soldiers were to begin to think”, said Frederick the Great
“Not one of them would remain in the army.”
And the soldiers’ worst enemy is often his own commander:
Power-crazed, or trigger-happy, or barmy.

Armies are hierarchical; they’re pathologically undemocratic
And throughout the centuries it’s been the same story:
To Montgomery and Churchill their troops were disposable –
There to serve the great cause of their leaders’ glory.

After Churchill had massacred his own troops at Gallipoli,
A. P. Herbert condemned him as a callous ignoramus,
“Roman emperors killed slaves to make themselves popular,
He is killing free men to make himself famous.” [1]

Just as one in seven homeless people are forces’ veterans
In the United States,
After the British Army has had its way with them
Nine thousand now share the same fate. [2]







You were persuaded you were in for a great adventure –
Not post traumatic stress disorder –
You believed you joined up for noble companionship
Not for a cold look from a prison warder.

For when you join you’re trained to be violent to serve the state
And yet you’re not trained to know when to stop,
So when you’ve killed once it becomes that much easier to kill again.
There’s guilt. You self-medicate. Quite a lot.

It soon dawns on you, you were part of a psychotic nothing;
You squashed strangers to death like flies;
A million people died in the Iraq war – women and children –
You ended lives thanks to a politician’s lies.

In ‘The Art of War’, Sun Tzu wrote,
“All war is based on deception.”
And the reasons which Britain’s given for its past wars
Have, historically, been no exception.

Take the ‘War of Jenkins’ Ear’ lasting nine years,
Starting when the English claimed the Spanish
Had captured a sea captain and then cut off his ear.
They made his ear appear to have vanished.

As proof Captain Jenkins was produced in Parliament
Displaying a stained bandage around his head.
Patriotic MPs present duly registered a storm of outrage,
Baying for vengeance at the sight of some animal blood.

They then voted through a massive war budget
While the facts were to remain unsuspected.
The war lasted nine years due to a flagrant falsehood
For the Captain’s ear was quite unaffected.

The warmongers of the American Empire
Were to make lying to their own nation
Just as acceptable as the British Empire had –
Cynically sacrificing their own population.

President McKinley informed the US Congress,
“The USS Maine, a ship in Havana Harbor,
Has been sunk by a Spanish mine.”
And this’d serve him as a pretext for murder.

The war had the United States’ whole-hearted support
Although the Captain of the ‘Maine’ later revealed
That his ship was really sunk by a coal-bin explosion
But this discomfiting truth was concealed.

Adolf Hitler lied to justify his invasion of Poland
Telling Germany that Poles had attacked them:
He had Polish corpses dressed up in German uniforms
To substantiate his grisly deception.

President Roosevelt said Pearl Harbor was a surprise attack,
But it wasn’t. It was deliberately provoked
By his Japanese oil blockades as he saw war with Japan as a way
To persuade America to join a war that America opposed.





















Likewise Churchill who saw war as the health of the state
Had lured the ‘Lusitania’ into U-boat infested territory:
The ship was carrying Americans and thanks to its sinking
Churchill tricked America into a global purgatory.













President Johnson had had reports of North Vietnamese
Torpedoing US ships in the Gulf of Tonkin.
Though the signals on US sonars turned out to be flying fish
He’d peddle fake stories of an attack without blinking.










Thus Johnson goaded Congress into passing vast war budgets
And he’d send thousands to Vietnam for millions to die:
Fifty eight thousand US soldiers and four million Asians –
All thanks to a President’s fraudulent battle cry.








A hundred and eighty British soldiers died in Iraq
Thanks to further US fabrications
The National Security Adviser, Condoleezza Rice
(Who was such a friend of the oil corporations

That Chevron named an oil tanker ‘The Condoleezza’),
Hinted that if Iraq wasn’t rendered less harmful,
“Mushroom clouds would rise above American cities”
Such was the scale of Saddam’s nuclear arsenal.















But her claim was untrue; no such weapons existed.
Yet the allegations that oil-rich Iraq
Had weapons of mass destruction was cravenly echoed
By the British Premier, another war-hawk.

The British Prime Minister, Tony Blair,
Would insist, in the cause of blood for oil,
“Saddam can attack London in forty minutes”
A lie to make soldiers’ widows’ blood boil.










Likewise at a United Nations Assembly
A US General waved an ‘Iraqi’ pillbox
Claiming its contents could kill all those present
And half the US as it “contained anthrax”.

But General Powell’s alarmist assertion was misleading:
His homegrown prop was filled with talcum powder,
Yet from then on the United States could bomb Baghdad 
With its lethal lies getting bolder and louder.

Iraq was then turned into a wasteland
Enabling the US to make off with its oil
Driving tanks over its dead and its artifacts –
And with DU shells contaminating its soil.











Pashtuns who are fighting for an independent Pashtunistan
Are invaded by NATO drones killing their children –
Falsely accused by invaders of toppling New York’s twin towers
By invaders keen on their gas, gold, and uranium.

In order to justify imposing regime change on Libya 
US Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, tells the press
(And she was lying, Amnesty revealed), “Gaddafi gives Viagra
To his troops to rape dissidents en masse.” [3]











“Not only,” said Amnesty, “have we not met any victims,
But we’ve not even met any persons who’ve met victims.”
The US motive for lying was Libya’s proposal to ditch the dollar
So black propaganda was essential to protect the US system.













Politicians will trade life itself for political advantage
And thanks to Blair being Bush’s poodle,
And to Cameron being Obama’s simpering gopher,
They sell out their soldiers – kit and caboodle.












Every syllable of every lie that self-serving politicians
Are prone to passing on to the world at large
Can mean the death or the injury of soldier after soldier
Though no politician’s ever put on a charge.












Politicians will justify their endlessly causing disasters
Then proudly insist that they’d do it again
Although some of the soldiers they’ve sent off to take part,
Come back dead, or half-dead with damaged brains –

With neurological damage thanks to IED explosions
And genetic defects thanks to depleted uranium,
So when Johnny comes marching home and tries for a family
The damage is passed down through generations.

In 2012 and 2013 at the height of Afghanistan’s fruitless war
More British soldiers committed suicide than died in battle,
But what you hear from statesmen is of the war’s great success
Not of their Army’s suicides nor of their lonely death-rattle. 


Lance Sergeant Dan Collins survived being shot twice in Helmand Province
And being blown off his feet by a roadside bomb,
But after he’d seen his closest friend, Dane Elson, killed in front of him,
PTSD would replace his habitual calm.

He’d been recruited for the Welsh Guards when he was sixteen
Having wanted to be a soldier since he was three,
But then his mother had to watch him disintegrate, as he confided,
“Mum, this is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Flashbacks trapped him forever in Helmand, “he wasn’t his usual self.” she said,
“You’d be talking to him and he would go completely blank,
“His eyes would stare at nothing and I’d call his name until he came to.
“He had changed, although he tried to put on a brave front.”

She remembers calling the Army for help. “I spoke to someone high up. 
I said, ‘he’s falling, he’s falling.’
“I asked him, ‘What can I do? He needs help.’ And this officer said to me,
‘Well, what do you suggest, Mrs Collins?’”

He’d suffer continual panic attacks but the Army had dropped him.
One evening when his mother was cooking him a hot dish.
“He was fine one moment and the next he threw the plate to the floor.
He cried out, ‘Burning flesh, burning flesh.’

“Then he curled up in a corner of the kitchen, rocking like a baby.
He made no sense at all.  His head was a muddle.
I couldn’t get through to him. The Army had abandoned him.
All I could do was give him a cuddle.”

Dan hanged himself in a disused slate quarry in the Preseli Mountains.
He made his mother a farewell video just before:
 “Ever since I’ve come back from hell, I’ve turned into a horrible person
And I don’t like who I am any more.”

William Blake, the poet, once saw a soldier and shouted,
“Damn the King. The soldiers are all slaves.”
It was judged to be treachery and Blake was tried for sedition
However his verse has outlasted soldiers’ graves, 

If everyone who was trapped in the First World War’s folly
Had said ‘no’ and if they’d boldly refused to fight
There’d have been no punitive treaty which led to the next War –
Hence no so-called ‘good war’ with its heartrending sights.

“I believe that a man is the strongest soldier,” said Gandhi
“For daring to die unarmed.”
Every weapon has to be a failure of the imagination
For the ideal life is lived free from harm.

Einstein believed “The pioneers of a warless world
Are the young men who refuse military service.”
He said a soldier had been “given a large brain by mistake,
Since for him the spinal cord would fully suffice.”

He went on, “He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file
Has already earned my contempt.”
As for militarism he said, “This plague-spot of civilization
Ought to be abolished.” It was passionately meant.

Before leaving his post, Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl told his father,
He’d seen an Afghan child killed and fellow soldiers gloating,
“I have seen their ideas and I am ashamed to even be American. The horror
Of the self-righteous arrogance that they thrive in. It is all revolting.”

“These people need help, yet what they get is the most conceited country
 In the world telling them that they are nothing and that they are stupid…
“The future is too good to waste on lies,” Bergdahl told his father,
And then Bergdahl deserted before his life could be ruined.

Two and a half thousand years ago the playwright Sophocles
Knew all soldiers were play-actors as wars have to end.
His Ajax says, “While I hate my enemy the time will come
When he will be my friend.”

General Smedley Butler was a rare American General
In that he told the truth and he only spoke sense.
“War is a racket. It always has been. It is possibly the oldest,
Easily the most profitable, surely the most vicious.”

Money’s the driving force behind this all-consuming farce –
The monstrous military-industrial complex –
Meaning every soldier is serving, whether they like it or not,
As a guinea pig who is sacrificed to big business.


















At Arms Fairs weapons can be sold much more easily
If they’ve already been field tested in a war zone:
‘Now, here, this little gem might be up your street, sir,
We find soldiers even wanting to take them home.

‘It’s very, very popular with the Ministry of Defense
And we sell hundreds of them to the Saudis.
One spray from this little fella will cut you right in half –
An assault weapon to decimate the Afghanis.

‘No, no, no, we’re not meant sell to anyone dodgy
And as a rule, of course, we don’t
But, in fact, we can get anything to anyone anywhere  –
Through middlemen, obligingly bent.

I mean, whoever stopped us flogging stuff to Saddam
Whilst he was gaily gassing the Kurds…?
And weren’t we selling the latest gear to the Argies
In the run-up to the Falklands? – stupid turds.

But a nod’s as good as a wink, eh? Ah, paperwork speeded up?
Oh yes, all done. You’ll be well pleased with your purchase.

I mean it’s down to us to make the world safe for democracy
And it’s only weapons that give you that sense of purpose.’

In the US the main news channels of CBS and NBC
Are both owned by major arms contractors.
“If it bleeds, it leads,” is the media’s favorite byword,
Turning soldiers into murderous bit-part actors –

Actors who glamourize the global arms bazaar
By pimping the most up-to-date equipment
That arms dealers describe deviously as ‘systems’
To disguise their abject and sordid intent.











The DESI exhibition was held in London in 2013 –
Defense and Security Equipment International –
Where delegates from 121 countries inspected 1,500 companies
And their mechanized homages to mistrust.

Hailed by Secretary of State for Defense, Philip Hammond,
As “a fabulous show” selling “fantastic kit”,
Their slick exhibition-stands and their lavish display panels
Hide flyblown bodies smeared with blood and with shit.

“Never think that war”, said Hemingway, “no matter how necessary,
Nor how justified, is not a crime.” –
A crime that turns soldiers into puppets who die for the interests
Of the arms dealers’ moral vacuum, time after time – 

Puppets who die in resource wars posing as moral conflicts
Or as humanitarian interventions;
Puppets who die so that one nation can dominate another
In childishly territorial competitions –

Puppets given smart uniforms to enhance their self-esteem;
Puppets taking part in ceremonies with mawkish fanfares
To honor the dead whom, if the dead were still conscious,
Might regret their contact with the arms-dealers’ wares. 








As every war is merely mass murder for profit
Every soldier must share in the guilt.
 “Serving my country” and “obeying orders” are excuses;
Masks to cover up the blood that’s been spilt.

The very sight of a uniform made Shelley throw up in disgust
For human beings aren’t meant to be machines,
Nor State-sanctified bullies creating a vile pandemonium
And undermining humanity’s utopian dreams.

Yet Army recruiters visit the poorest schools with their PR,
To make ‘military ethos and skills’ a part of school life. [5] 
‘Catch them young before the army loses them’ is their catch-phrase.
‘Be a celebrity hero, lads, and have a good laugh.’

Children sign their lives away from the age of sixteen,
Press-ganged by poverty and by poor self-esteem;
Seduced by the Army as it glamourizes obedience
And presents its foul killing machines as benign.

The Army organizes four thousand visits to schools each year [6]
And vulnerable young pupils are taken on military trips.
A recruiter confesses, “A seven-year-old sees a parachutist and thinks,
‘That looks great.’ Then the army builds interest by drip, drip, drip.” [7]

The Army’s brochures are full of “defending your country”
Though none will mention “kill or threaten to kill”.
They hold fetes, and parades and appear at sports fixtures;
They use Facebook and YouTube to sweeten the pill.

The seeds of war are sown in a schoolchild’s psyche:
Guns are introduced for target practice.
An Army coach calls out  ‘Bullseye!’ then hands out souvenirs:
Target-cards with holes in, and bullet casings.

A fourteen-year old boy died in the trenches in France. [8]
Who can say they’ve since felt the benefit?
Boy soldiers’ families would have preferred they’d lived
Without their brains being fingered by bullets.


















Whenever man has had the foresight to anticipate conflict
A fair-minded force for good needs no other forces;
A weapon and a uniform are the badges of lost innocence
Carried and worn by the understudies of corpses.


Heathcote Williams


[1] Nicholas Rankin, ‘A Genius for Deception: How Cunning Helped the British Win Two World Wars’, London: Faber, 2008, p 69

[2] Ben Glaze, ‘9,000 ex-service personnel homeless after leaving the military: They account for one in 10 rough sleepers across the UK’, London: Daily Mirror, July 21, 2013

[3] Dan Kovalik, ‘Seven Truths Inconvenient to U.S. Foreign Policy: Undermining Global Democracy’, Counterpunch, January 20-22, 2012

[4] Hayley Dixon, ‘More British soldiers commit suicide than die in battle, figures suggest’,  London: Daily Telegraph, 14 July 2013

[5]  cf. Emma Sangster in ‘Sowing Seeds: The Militarisation of Youth and How to Counter it’, War Resisters International, 2013

[6] Ministry of Defence, MoD (2008b). ‘Supplementary Memorandum from the Ministry of Defence’ [Memorandum to the House of Commons Defence Committee, 2008], in House of Commons Defence Committee. (2008).

[7] The former head of recruitment strategy in the British Army, Col. David Allfrey, cited in Stephen Armstrong, ‘Britain’s Child Army’, New Statesman, 5 February 2007.

[8] Barry Roche, ‘Memorial to youngest Allied soldier to die in First World War unveiled: John Condon (14) from Waterford killed in Flanders gas attack on May 24th, 1915’; Irish Times, May 18, 2014


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Hard Times










The Electric Picture House Artists Co-operative are excited to be hosting a production of Charles Dickens’ Hard Times by Paper Zoo Theatre Company.

The production tells the story of Thomas Gradgrind, pillar of the community and headmaster of The Gradgrind School for Boys and Girls, who teaches the children of Coketown, including his own, nothing but facts. Self-made cotton manufacturer, Josiah Bounderby, represents the wealthy industrialists who came to prominence in the 1850s. He may have money but he has no humility. Rachel Wood and Stephen Blackpool are the salt-of-the-earth mill workers ground down by the harsh realities of life, and Cissy Jupe embodies the wonder of imagination and a creative life as the poor daughter of a circus clown who shows Gradgrind the futility of his system.

HARD TIMES is the sixteenth production staged by Paper Zoo Theatre Company. Previous productions have included Samuel Beckett’s ‘Waiting for Godot’, ‘The Tempest’, ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ and ‘Twelfth Night’ by Shakespeare, and an adaptation of George Orwell’s ‘1984’ produced in conjunction with The National Media Museum, and featuring John Hurt as the onscreen Big Brother.

Tickets £9 available from The Electric Picture House, Cross Street, Congleton, Cheshire, CW12 1HQ 270908 or email









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Collagistes Collected 13

Number 13 in the series from the Collagistes Collective, now numbering 500 artists and counting!


























Dan Caven



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Thornley Woods Sculptures




















Chainsaw artist Tommy Cragg renders animals from dead trees in Thornley Woods, Rowlands Gill nr Newcastle.

Photos by Bez Yahyaei 



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Badger Cull Update










1  Badger Cull Update
The cull can now start at any time between now and the autumn but we have no clear information on a likely start date. Alexa and the coordinators of the  Wounded Badger Patrol  teams are now prepared and able to respond to help look for wounded badgers when the cull starts. We will need as many people as possible to get involved again now to help save as many of our badgers as possible when the cull starts.
The Badger Trust legal challenge is still being considered by the courts and we are likely to know if the courts are prepared to hear the full case sometime next week.
There’s been a lot going on behind the scenes with fantastic work being undertaken by a whole range of people to help our badgers without whose help the work to save Gloucestershire badgers would be lost and we thank you all. Our focus is now on the patrols, recruiting new people, fundraising and raising awareness as well as supporting groups looking to vaccinate badgers. 








2 Night patrol practices Saturday 14 June & Saturday 21 June.
As part of our preparation for this year’s cull we are organising two patrol practice nights as above.  One is in the Eastern zone (from Bredon to Gloucester  east of the River Severn) and the other in the Western zone (from Newent to Tewkesbury west of the River Severn).  They won’t be the normal, long patrols but just a few hours of preparation so that we’re all as ready as we can be.
We hope that as many people as possible (day & night patrollers, sett monitors, car patrollers – everyone!) will come so that we can make the two evenings really effective.  If you’re able to come to both nights that would be perfect as we will have lots of mini patrols running with the night coordinators so we would like as many people as possible.
As well as providing us with an opportunity to practice some of the scenarios we are likely to meet in the cull, including finding a wounded badger, it’s also a great chance to send out the message that the cull is still on and we are still here and ready.
East patrol practice evening Sat 14 June 8.30 pm
Goes from Longford Inn Layby Gloucester GL2 9BE.
We’ve been advised that England are playing at 11pm but you will be able to get home or to a pub for 11 if you want to!
West patrol practice Sat 21 June 8.30 pm
Goes from Newent Llewall Street Car Park   GL18 1AN .
It’s opposite the library, behind the co-op and the car park with public loos (closed at night) and recycling where we met last year.
If you are able to attend please can you let Fee & Ali know on our new patrol email:
If you know either of the zones well and would be interested in arriving at 8pm to role play the part of “those we are likely to meet” please can you tell Ali and Fee on the patrols email.  This would still be on the footpaths or in cars and entirely legal but it would be helpful to have some people representing those we may meet.
All you need to bring is your high viz (we hope to have some to sell on the nights too), torch, walking kit etc as usual for night patrols.  Maps are always handy too if you have them.







3. Fundraising
Following the great success of the Badger Ball we’ve carried on fundraising to help raise funds for equipment for our patrols and support other groups working on vaccination and we think we’ve made good progress  Our GABS shop has extended its range and can be seen via
Lush, the cruelty free animal products company have been supportive for the last 2 years and are currently raising funds from badger groups via their charity pot products so do look into their shops if you’re passing.
Best wishes
Jeanne and Nick
On behalf of the GABS Leads Group. 





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Our Gang














Robert Tasher 



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Lest It Be Forgot





It is 1967 and Smith, a precocious fellow, has been journeying around and now finds himself stranded penniless on the island of Fernando Poo just off the coast of West Africa. He has been told by some seamen to go to the local shipping office for a job as deck-hand saying that he has been discharged from a Nigerian ship for political reasons.


At the office, a corrugated iron shed, he finds a young Scandinavian with a brisk manner who sits behind a desk and listens doubtfully to his story.
‘Vat ship?’ he barks, and Smith is taken momentarily aback; he had not thought of this. He knows however, that there must be no hesitation here, and a name slips smoothly from his tongue; the first to come into his head. It is a name full of significance in his inner cosmology, which over the past year or so has accommodated several dramatic inclusions.

The notion of “Flower Power” and its associated messages arising in the streets around San Francisco’s Height Ashbury and nourished by the balmy air of California, had travelled like wildfire across the Atlantic to evoke a similar response among London’s young crop of bohemians, social radicals and other more quirky dissidents. The ancient shamanistic lore of the North American Indian mingling with the Maharishi glow of eastern metaphysics, while above all the Woody Guthriesque voice of Bob Dylan singing of meanings far beyond the grasp of poor old “Mr Jones”, and setting the arms manufacturers quaking in their boots with his “Masters of War.”

However, although generating a powerful influence, these American dreams arrived to encounter some equally powerful myths of the home-grown variety. Indelibly grounded in the bedrock of the sceptred isle, and triggered by this new infusion of freedom’s ideals, these mythical figures had arisen to inspire a new and somewhat more Celtic philosophy.

Out of the hoary past and mists of fable a round table had emerged, and there sat King Arthur and his court of valiant knights. Great Merlin stood upon a hill with arms outstretched, bestowing the King’s good will upon the green and pleasant land below. And later, Blake, to prophecy the New Jerusalem and send a clarion call for giant Albion to awaken from his centuries long sleep; rise bodily up from that English landscape in which he has lain hidden for so long, and with one mighty arm drive the money-changers from the temple, and with the other smite those dark satanic mills to dust.

The old straight tracks and ley-lines; stone circles primed with energy and star alignments, still generating their mystic fascination to those who measure with the ancient yard and pay a Druid’s homage across the Salisbury plain to Stonehenge. The Chartists too their mark had left upon the island’s psyche, and Tom Paine’s call for common-sense still echoed through old England’s bones.

From this maelstrom of native exotica Smith has cobbled together his own inner cosmology which he is always happy to invoke, and now at the agent’s question, ‘Vat ship?’ he turns to this ghostly pantheon of hippie ideals; speaks the first name that comes to head, and…

“The Albion,” he says.


‘Tales from the Embassy’  Vol II Dave Tomlin
Art Nick Victor




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