The special alliance of Israel and the United States have attacked Iran, again. How severe and protracted this war shall become, we do not know. The lapdogs of empire likely will support their masters, the usual coalition such as America’s Ghurkas, or Australia, what remains of the arthritic UK and the Gulf States built on slavery and bribery. The Coalition of the Killing. Iran has it’s friend as well, China, Russia, the Houthi’s and other members of the ascending BRICS. The war is almost a symbolic deathroe of the 20th century order, of Western might and exceptionalism at the expense of the...

I want to stay up late, drinking coffee while the moon stands high. Talking with friends or, strangers, why not both? Discussing philosophy, the stars, literature and art. Hearing and sharing thoughts of of our own. Not talking points framed by others or references to safe culture, pop themed entertainment lollies. I want to sit across from another mind, or minds, see their eyes warm with thought, feeling, passion. To feel their words, to know they mean it. I want to be there when dangerous things are said, when threads of humanity linger between sorrow, regret, to be puled back by joy and...

“(redacted) said that she felt gods presence next to her when she was in bed.. she knows that jesus watches over her. And he helped save her life. Whoops” “You should dress up as him (Jesus) when you see her.” The humour of rapists. Men close to power. Men of power. Government and the wealthy class. Those in academia. The elites of society. Those who are powerful because millions of armed agents of government make them so. Millions of ordinary people, citizens, who believe in the hierarchies of coercion and ensured through gatekeeping, believe in the church of government so long as their...

“Down this road on a summer day in 1944, the soldiers came. Nobody lives here now. They stayed only a few hours. When they had gone, a community, which had lived for a thousand years, was dead. This is Oradour-sur-Glane, in France. The day the soldiers came, the people were gathered together. The men were taken to garages and barns, the women and children were led down this road, and they were driven into this church. Here, they heard the firing as their men were shot. Then they were killed too. A few weeks later, many of those who had done the killing were themselves dead, in battle. They...

Beneath the uniforms, costumes of power or the suits of fashionable exuberance lurks naked flesh. Often flabby and unimpressive. The victims of such know the putrid stench on their breath, the sickly odour of sweat, the repulsive effluent of discharge as it penetrates where it’s unwanted. The predators are human. Nothing more. Government, wealth and ‘the system’ suggest otherwise. To their victims, whose bodies quiver in innocent disdain, blood running from where they have been stabbed, there is seldom justice. Wealth, power ensures such. When an individual man, the unexceptional, pins and...

It’s hard to enjoy the writings of Franz Kafka, though in some of his story telling we find a reflection of the contemporary or perhaps a dirty glass panel into the past. In his book, The Trial, we experience a bureaucracy of inhumanity through the eyes of an unnamed man. He is arrested and prosecuted for an unspecified crime, taken on a journey where he has no rights or agency and is one in many victims of an oppressive system. To live in a world where one does not know or understand the law, and where the layers of administration are so great one is not even considered human, no longer...