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"Imperial Crusades: a Diary of Three Wars" by Cockburn and St. Clair
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Today's Stories January 1, 2008 Iain A. Boal December 31, 2007 Alexander Cockburn Tariq Ali Liaquat Ali Khan Wajahat Ali Robert Fisk Ajai Sahni Marwan Bishara Uri Avnery Mark T. Harris Brenda Norrell Website of the Day
December 29 / 30, 2007 Alexander Cockburn Tariq Ali Fawzia Afzal-Khan Gary Leupp China Hand Jacob Hornberger John Chuckman Missy Beattie Ralph Nader Fidel Castro Robert Fantina Greg Moses Catherine Lutz Kristin Van
Tassel Kim Nicolini Phyllis Pollack Poets' Basement Website of
the Weekend
December 28, 2007 Farzana Versey Wajahat Ali Binoy Kampmark Ayesha Ijaz
Khan Anthony DiMaggio Ray McGovern Jim Goodman Ron Jacobs Russell Hoffman John Murphy Website of the Day
December 27, 2007 Dilip Hiro Murtaza Shibli Stephen Soldz Bill Quigley Paul Craig Roberts Omer Subhani Marjorie Cohn Allan Nairn Jacob G. Hornberger Norman Solomon Patrick Irelan Ben Tripp Website of the Day
Charles Tripp Paul Armentano Rannie Amiri Stanley Heller John Walsh Martha Rosenberg Norman Madarasz Website of
the Day
December 25, 2007 Patrick Cockburn December 24, 2007 Andrea Peacock Tariq Ali Uri Avnery Jill Jameson Steve Melendez Mike Whitney Chuck Munson John Walsh Farzana Versey Richard Neville Website of the Day
Alexander Cockburn Ralph Nader Andy Worthington Ahmad Faruqui Bill Moyers Rev. William
E. Alberts Timothy J. Freeman Anthony DiMaggio Fred Gardner Paul Krassner Seth Sandronsky William Loren
Katz Michael Dickinson Ron Jacobs David Vest Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend
December 21, 2007 John Ross Jacob Hornberger Dick J. Reavis Jeff Cohen
Peter Morici Jack McCarthy Raúl Zibechi Steve Early David Macaray Patrick Bond Lakota Freedom Delegation Website of
the Day
December 20, 2007 David Rosen Alan Farago Laura Carlsen Ashley Dawson Wayne Smith Website of
the Day
December 19, 2007 Saul Landau Paul W. Lovinger Norman Solomon Dave Zirin Marjorie Cohn Sen. Russell
Feingold Sonja Karkar Anthony Papa Christopher Ketcham Davey D Website of
the Day
December 18, 2007 R. F. Blader George Wuerthner Steven Higgs Vijay Prashad David Macaray Ralph Nader Eva Liddell Martha Rosenberg Dave Lindorff Peter Morici Website of
the Day
December 17, 2007 Mike Whitney Tom Barry Uri Avnery Greg Moses Allan Nairn Patrick Bond Stephen Lendman Charles Jonkel Laray Polk Stephen Fleischman December 15 / 16, 2007 Peter Linebaugh Howard Zinn Standard Schaefer Raymond J.
Lawrence Alan Farago Saul Landau Jenna Orkin Ahmad Samih
Khalidi Robert Fantina Missy Comley
Beattie Ramzy Baroud James L. Secor Elijah Wald Website of
the Weekend
December 14, 2007 JoAnn Wypijewski John Ross Jacob Hornberger Andy Worthington Allan Nairn Dave Zirin Dave Lindorff Misty MacDuffee Ben Terrall Dr. Mustafa
Barghouthi Website of the Day
December 13, 2007 Paul Craig
Roberts Mike Whitney Ron Jacobs Norman Solomon Peter Morici Sandy Mayes Franklin Lamb Jacob Hornberger Nadim Rouhana Dave Zirin Website of the Day
Allan
Nairn Alan
Farago Ray
McGovern Winslow
T. Wheeler Evan
Jones James
Petras Joel
Hirschorn Joshua
Frank Sherry
Wolf Dan
Bacher Website
of the Day
December 11, 2007 Patrick
Cockburn Diana
Johnstone Paul
Craig Roberts David
Macaray Ralph
Nader Andy
Worthington Martha
Rosenberg Steve
Champion / Kim
Nicolini Michael
Dickinson Website
of the Day
Uri
Avnery Debbie
Nathan JoAnn
Wypijewski Steve
Kelly Donna
J. Volatile
December 8 / 9, 2007 Alexander
Cockburn Brenda
Norrell Saul
Landau R.
F. Blader Ray
McGovern Allan
Nairn Linn
Washington, Jr Paul
Craig Roberts
December 7, 2007 Sean
Penn Arthur
Versluis M.
G. Piety Pam
Martens Alan
Farago Allan
Nairn Col.
Dan Smith Alice
Slater Robert
Weissman Website
of the Day
December 5, 2007 Mike
Whitney Sharon
Smith James
Petras Ron
Jacobs Dave
Zirin John
V. Whitbeck Peter
Zinn Niranjan
Ramakrishnan Alan
Farago Heather
Gray Website
of the Day
December 4, 2007 Alexander
Cockburn Andy
Worthington Paul
Craig Roberts Ray
McGovern Winslow
T. Wheeler Allan
Nairn Russell
Mokhiber Nikolas
Kozloff John
V. Walsh Ghada
Ageel Stephen
Soldz Website
of the Day
December 3, 2007 Tariq
Ali Bill
Quigley Eric
Walberg Uri
Avnery Marjorie
Cohn Dave
Lindorff Stephen
Fleischman Martha
Rosenberg Website
of the Day
December 1 / 2, 2007 Alexander
Cockburn Jeffrey
St. Clair Mike
Whitney Shemon
Salam Roger
Burbach Benjamin
Dangl Brian
M. Downing Greg
Moses Sonja
Karkar Saul
Landau Margaret
Kimberley John
Ross Reza
Fiyouzat Judith
Scherr Lance
Olsen Christopher
Brauchli Robert
Fantina Dan
Bacher Michael
Donnelly Website
of the Weekend
November 30, 2007 Peter
Stone Brown Wajahat
Ali Allan
Nairn Alan
Farago John
Ross Corporate
Crime Reporter Lucia
Alvarez James
Rothenberg Website
of the Day
November 29, 2007 R.
F. Blader Ismael
Hossein-Zadeh Stephen
Soldz Sheldon
Richman George
Wuerthner Felice
Pace Col.
Dan Smith Harvey
Wasserman Nikolas
Kozloff Paul
Krassner Dave
Lindorff CP
News Service Website
of the Day November 28, 2007 James
Petras Jeff
Halper Pam
Martens Peter
Morici Mohammed
Khatib Helen
Redmond William
S. Lind Ben
Tripp Liaquat
Ali Khan Jeff
Berg Website
of the Day
November 27, 2007 Joe
DeRaymond Paul
Craig Roberts Marjorie
Cohn Mike
Whitney Ron
Jacobs Col.
Dan Smith Ralph
Nader Karim
Makdisi Christopher
Ketcham Ronan
Bennett Website
of the Day
November 26, 2007 Kathleen
and Bill Christison Paul
Craig Roberts David
Macaray Sameer
Dossani Roger
Burbach Mark
Scaramella Brian
McKinlay Rick
Kuhn Binoy
Kampmark Monica
Benderman Brenda
Norrell Website
of the Day
November 24 / 25, 2007 Alexander
Cockburn Robert
Fisk Saul
Landau Jeffrey
St. Clair Rannie
Amiri Christopher
Brauchli Daniel
Gross Mike
Whitney Marjorie
Cohn David
Rosen David
Michael Green Kenneth
Rexroth Muhammad
Iqbal Website
of the Day
Gary
Leupp Laura
Carlsen David
Macaray Andy
Worthington Clifton
Ross Seth
Sandronsky Dan
Bacher William
A. Cook Website
of the Day
November 22, 2007 Alan
Farago Greg
Moses Dave
Lindorff Mike
Ely Omar
Azfar
November 21, 2007 Vijay
Prashad Martha
Rosenberg Manuel
Garcia, Jr. John
Ross Brian
McKenna Stephen
Soldz Monica
Benderman Ben
Terrall Website
of the Day
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New
Year's Day Edition Dispatch from LondonCity of DisappearancesBy IAIN A. BOAL "We've been sold down the river", said one of the draymen, "right down the fucking Wandle." The closing of Young's brewery in Wandsworth in 2006 was a milestone in the march of gentrification across post-Big Bang London. "A humiliating, downright cry-in-your-beer travesty", in the words of one local, whose bulletin from the left bank of the Wandle ended with this indelible lament: "When a particularly juvenile men's magazine article challenged British breweries to organize a piss up, some breweries laid on rock 'n' roll bands...another had fish and chips delivered by limousine. Young's response was to lock us in their small, secret bar in an old stable at the back of the Ram Brewery and give us free Ram and Special until we had to stop. Their point being: this is Wandsworth, we don't do bollocks, we do beer. Not any more." Well, just across the river, they still do any more. At the old Griffin brewery. A bit of a surprise, since Chiswick is sinking under the weight of Chelsea tractors, real estate agents and yellow dumpsters. The Griffin somehow survives on the original site at the west end of Chiswick Mall, near the Hogarth roundabout, where Fuller Ales have been brewed since 1845. I recently returned for a visit. I first lived in London in
the mid-late sixties, at the other end of Chiswick Mall. My lodgings
were a garret at 16 Hammersmith Terrace. It was the home of the
Zvegintzovs, Mischa and Diana. Mischa's father had been an Octobrist
and president of the fourth Duma; he was killed on the Galician
front in 1915. The Zvegintzov family were enemies of the Tzarist
state but as epitomes of Russian parliamentary liberalism they
had to flee the Bolsheviks. They eventually reached London via
Finland and Sweden. The young Mischa was turned into an English
gent by way of Winchester College and Corpus Christi, Oxford.
There were limits, mind you - his old school chums insisted on
calling him "Zog". He took a job as a research chemist
at the Gas Light and Coke company. In 1940 he joined Political
Intelligence and ended the war as Director-General of the German
Chemical From the high windows of No. 16, one could look east to the ironwork of Joseph Bazaglette's Hammersmith Bridge, a Victorian baroque structure which was seriously underbuilt and hence the target of three separate IRA bomb teams. First in 1939, when Maurice Childs, a local hairdresser walking home late at night across the bridge, noticed smoke and sparks coming from a suitcase. He opened it to find a bomb inside, which he chucked into the river. The explosion sent up a 60ft column of water. Beyond the bridge, on the Barn Elms reach, one could just see the roof of Harrod's massive furniture depository (long before Mohamed Al Fayed flogged it to the property development arm of Bahrain International Bank for stockbroker apartments) and I used to watch flocks of geese on their glide path towards the reservoirs along Castlenau. Through the window, when the wind was from the west, the astringent smell of hops and mashed barley drifted down from the Griffin brewery. Through the wall, no matter what the wind, came the sound of the New Zealand Ladies Massed Choir, accompanied by Mischa and Diana's son, who had a voice like Chaucer's pardoner. He passed his days listening to antipodean sacred music, captured in a collection of vintage 78s which he played on an ancient HMV gramophone. To this day, his thin piping descant mingles in my mind with the other music that filled my nights that year. Not that he had the remotest interest in the new sounds emerging from the Hammersmith Odeon, the World's End, and the Troubador at Redcliffe Gardens, thanks to John Mayall, Alexis Korner, Stevie Winwood, John Renbourn and co. All virtually within earshot, owing to recent developments at the Marshall Amplifier Company. When I reached the river, the tide was on the turn and Chiswick Mall glistened with a film of Thames sludge. The scene at Upper and Lower Mall was remarkably unchanged, though Hammersmith Terrace had sprouted a fresh crop of blue plaques. Under New Labor, the heritage industry has been hard at work commemorating this radical corner of the book world. Edward Johnson the master calligrapher lived for a while at No. 3, the typographer Emery Walker at No.7, May Morris next door at No. 8. Her father William lived a few yards away at 26 Upper Mall, Kelmscott House, from which he sallied forth to harangue the proletarians of the Hammersmith Socialist League. His neighbor and fellow socialist, T. J. Cobden-Sanderson, was a burned-out barrister whom Janey Morris thought capable of something therapeutic with his hands. And so the Doves Bindery and Press came about, first at 15 Upper Mall and later at 1 Hammersmith Terrace. One night in 1915, as blood flowed at the second Battle of Ypres, Cobden-Sanderson, by then a burned-out bookbinder, threw all the Doves type (from which the Kelmscott Chaucer and Bible were composed) off Hammersmith Bridge, to spite his old partner Emery Walker. The business closed down soon after. But not before he had trained an apprentice, the New Town utopian, Douglas "Care of Books" Cockerell, whose own son Sydney Cockerell in turn took on an apprentice, Gillian Cartwright-Allen, who became my life companion. T.J. named the Doves Bindery after the neighboring pub at 19 Upper Mall. The Doves was a coffee house in the eighteenth century, but lately - since 1796 - has been serving Fuller's beer. When I was a frequenter of the Dove (it turned singular sometime in the early 20th century) hot food was an unthinkable accompaniment to a pint of London Pride. You could get a bag of crisps (blue touchpaper twist of salt included) or if you were lucky a "Ploughman's Lunch". It sounded like a primordial birthright, but was actually a high marketing concept invented in 1960 by Richard Trehane, chairman of the English Country Cheese Council. It consisted of a lump of cheddar, a crust of bread and some Branston pickle. Today the Dove is a designated "gastro pub", with a two-page menu and a wide selection of organic vegetables picked at dawn, prepared by virgins. Eat your heart out, Trehane. I crossed over Hammersmith Bridge, and down the steps to the gravel riverside path - pot-holed and ragged and miraculously unimproved. A rus in urbe experience, vouchsafed no doubt only by savage cuts in public works maintenance. The water lapped close to the boathouses at Putney Hard, and over a pint of Dog's Knob Bitter at the Duke's Head I pondered the fragility of this riverscape and the coming deluge. The Thames barrage will soon enough seem like a pathetic finger in the dyke. From outside the Duke's Head I could see the tower of St Mary's Church, at the foot of Putney High Street. St Mary's was my destination, for an evening of 17th century secular music. Last year there was a poll of Guardian readers, who were asked to nominate the neglected event in Britain's radical past that best deserves a proper monument. Unexpectedly they chose the "Putney debates" over other potential candidates, such as Bodmin parish church in Cornwall, scene of the 1549 Prayer Book rebellion; the 1819 Peterloo massacre site in Manchester; Queen's Square, Bristol, site of the reform riots of 1831; Discovery House in east London, centre of the Poplar rate dispute of 1921; the Orgreave coking plant in Yorkshire, symbol of the 1984 miners' strike. The Putney debates took place in the late autumn of 1647 in St Mary's Church, the home base of Oliver Cromwell's chaplain Hugh Peters who preached fiery sermons there on the edge of the Thames. (He was also one of the founders of Harvard University, a role he has come to regret.) The debates culminated in the execution of Charles 1, the abolition of the monarchy and the House of Lords, and the institution of the 11-year English Republic. In the words of Geoffrey Robertson's introduction to a new edition of The Putney Debates (Verso, 2007): "From its first ascendancy here at St Mary's, there may be traced the acceptance - centuries later in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and now in two-thirds of the nations of the world - of the idea that government requires the consent of freely and fairly elected representatives of all adult citizens, irrespective of class or caste or status or wealth." On the eve of the 360th anniversary of the debates, Tristram Hunt, historian and New Labor apparatchik, reminded Guardian readers (G2, October 26, 2007) of the events they had voted to commemorate:
Tuesday's recital of 17th century music was part of a week of events at St Mary's - drama, readings, reenactments, dialogues - challenging establishment amnesia and official history whereby the phrase "English Republic" cannot even be pronounced and the years 1649-60 are rendered in Latin for the sake of decency. Never mind the gap, children, it was only an interregnum, viz., a regrettable hiccup in the glorious pageant of the British monarchy. So this project joins the great works of recovery and levelling - Christopher Hill's pioneering reinterpretation in The World Turned Upside Down, Kevin Brownlow's film Winstanley, Caryl Churchill's play Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, and Peter Linebaugh and Marcus Rediker's The Many Headed Hydra. Further down the Thames, on the other side of London, some major levelling of quite another kind has begun. On Saturday I cycled from Shepherds Bush to Hackney Wick to take a look at the future scene of the London Olympics. In the last two months an 11-kilometer cyanide blue fence has been erected around a vast swathe of the East End. The Wandsworth brewery would be swallowed up unnoticed in the vast new building site being prepared for three weeks of calisthenics in 2012. The inhabitants of the Blue Zone have all been evicted; fifteen families of travellers who settled at Clays Lane in 1971 were the last to go, earlier this month, not because they refused to leave but because the date of departure set for them by the Olympics Delivery Authority (in charge of "land assembly") was postponed eleven times. When the chief executive of the ODA claimed that the purpose of the Wall was "not to separate communities but to protect them", one local had this to say: "This is exactly what the East German authorities said when the Berlin Wall was constructed. What could you possibly be building that you need to protect the people on the outside of that wall? You're simply afraid that us we'll sneak in and start half-inching all your equipment." I was only able to grasp the scale of the thing after climbing to the 19th floor of a high-rise block off Carpenter's Road, at the invitation of a Jamaican pensioner I'd met in the moribund Stratford Arms, a pub suddenly cut off from passing trade by the blue barrier. I cycled northwest along the deserted Hackney Navigation canal in the hope of finding a gap in the perimeter. There weren't even any viewing ports. Eventually I came across an active works entrance where a platoon of security guards were on weekend duty. They were friendly enough, but got serious when I attempted to finesse my way past. I hung around and photographed them inspecting a heavy goods vehicles on its way into "Olympic Park". One of the goons threatened to seize my plastic Boots camera. "It's throwaway, right, squire?" Right. I headed further north, beyond the Hackney Cut. Apart from one trip long ago to the old Lea Valley Cycle Circuit, now on the wrong side of the fence and under the jackhammer, this was a landscape I'd only read about. I was entering Iain Sinclair territory, the world of White Chappell, Scarlet Tracings, and Downriver, his playground of weird connections. Sinclair's psychogeographical fictions have recently got up the nose of John Barker. He accuses Sinclair of giving comfort to the colonizers of East London by making the old docklands exciting and safe for the modern bourgeois with a taste for the off-beat. Mind you, Barker seems even more angry at the sterilizing of his favourite Hackney pubs, which used to cater to the goths and mohicans of the anti-capitalist movement and where the craic was fierce and wild. I had no intention of getting between Sinclair and Barker, or romancing the Hackney Marshes and the River Lea. I was just aiming to get a feel for the Blue Zone, so that I could compare London's new enclosures with the social cleansing also under way in Delhi (for the 2010 Commonwealth Games, a kind of Olympics lite) and now more or less complete in Beijing (ready for next year's Olympics). I would like to understand the evolution of these sportscapes, which are microcosms of spatial form and urban dispossession under capitalist modernity. They have a direct connection to Hitler's clearances in Berlin for the 1936 Olympics, and to land grabs under the cover of Expos and World's Fairs. That deeper history of London's transformation got an airing last Friday night at the launch of the paperback edition of London: City of Disappearances, compiled by - who else - Iain Sinclair: " Alongside the London of noise and celebrity is that other city: of the dead, the unvoiced, the erased...and urban myths with more blood and vigour than the contemporary cartoons of manufactured notoriety." A gathering of weird old England, organized by Penned in the Margins, assembled in the great hall of the Bishopsgate Institute behind Liverpool Street Station. We were witness to a rare urban excursion by the Northampton magus of the graphic novel, Alan Moore. He was in conversation with the anarchist pasticheur Michael Moorcock - sometime Hawkwind librettist, lambaster of Heinlein and C.S. Lewis, the anti-Tolkien, and author of barrowloads of fantasy, most recently The Metatemporal Detective. There was also a reading by the performance artist Brian Catling, although poor acoustics and a uvular delivery combined to obscure his drift. On the other hand, Kirsten Norrie of the low-tech poetics group The Wolf in Winter, galvanized the company with her astonishing vocal improvisation. Using a looper meant for guitar, with a 14 second record time, she built up layers of sound in real time...a solo massed choir. A sound, it occurs to me, that might have tempted even Zvegintzov fils down from his garret. Iain Boal is a historian of technics and the commons, a member of the Retort collective, and co-author of Resisting the Virtual Life and Afflicted Powers. He can be reached at: boal@sonic.net
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