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How a Tiny Alaskan Indian Tribe Got Billions in Pentagon Contracts by Jeffrey St. Clair; Dems and Dives by Alexander Cockburn; Spooky Grants: More on the CIA's Recruitment of Campus Professors by David Price. Remember these stories are available exclusively in the print edition of CounterPunch. CounterPunch Online is read by millions of viewers each month! But remember, we are funded solely by the subscribers to the print edition of CounterPunch. Please support this website by buying a subscription to our newsletter, which contains fresh material you won't find anywhere else, or by making a donation for the online edition. Remember contributions are tax-deductible. Click here to make a donation. If you find our site useful please: Subscribe Now! or write CounterPunch, PO BOX 228, Petrolia, CA 95558 |
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Other Lands Have Dreams: From Baghdad to Pekin Prison by KATHY KELLY  Today's Stories April 7, 2005 John Ross April 6, 2005 Peter Camejo Kevin Wehr Matt Vidal Robert Creeley
/ Bruce Jackson Nikolas Kozloff Sea Shepherd Crew Brenda Child Terry Eagleton David Swanson Cindy Ellen
Hill Website of
the Day
April 5, 2005 Jim Connolly Paul Craig
Roberts Gary Leupp Dave Lindorff Ron Jacobs Dan Smith Mark Engler Richard Oxman Greg Moses Website of the Day
April 4, 2005 Kevin Zeese Paul Craig Roberts Larry Birns
/ Sarah Schaffer Karyn Strickler Joshua Frank Michael Dickinson Surendra R.
Devkota Derrick O'Keefe Uri Avnery Website of the Day
April 2 / 3, 2005 Alexander Cockburn Jeffrey St. Clair Stan Goff John Ross Saul Landau Robert Creeley Mike Roselle Joshua Frank Fred Gardner Greg Moses Fran Quigley Kurt Nimmo Nicole Colson Chris Genovali Alan Farago Lawrence Reichard Ben Tripp Avantika Regmi Lee Sustar Ron Jacobs Dave Lindorff Poets' Basement Website of
the Day
April 1, 2005 Tom Barry Rahul Mahajan Charlie Cray
/ Jim Vallette Dave Lindorff Zeynep Toufe Suzan Mazur Michael Dickinson Stan Cox Ra Ravishankar Daniel Wolff
March 31, 2005 Sharon Smith Ron Jacobs Tariq Ali Michael Dickinson Kanak Mani
Dixit Mitchell Zimmerman Xuan-Trang
Ho Dave Zirin Joe Bageant Jeff Halper Website of
the Day
March 30, 2005 Gary Leupp Ralph Nader
/ Kevin Zeese Chase Madar Toni Solo Jackie Corr Ahmad Faruqui Mike Roselle Jude Wanniski Francis A.
Boyle Jeffrey St.
Clair Website of
the Day
March 29, 2005 Ralph Nader Gary Leupp Sonia Cardenas Stew Albert Mark Weisbrot Dave Lindorff Carl G. Estabrook
March 28, 2005 Jeremy Scahill Sonali Kolhatkar Sasha Kramer Kevin Zeese Tom Stephens Dr. Teresa Whitehurst Newton Garver Paul Craig
Roberts Website of the Day
March 26 / 27, 2005 Gary Leupp Peter Linebaugh Marc Robert Laura Carlsen Saul Landau
/ Puja Patel Dave Foreman Fred Gardner Jennifer Matsui Dave Lindorff Dharma Adhikari Joshua Frank Patrick Barr Christopher
Brauchli Ramzy Baroud Jackie Corr Ben Tripp Dr. Susan Block Mickey Z. Justin Taylor Richard Joseph Poets' Basement
March 25, 2005 Scott Richard
Lyons Yoshie Furuhashi Pat Williams Mark Engler Rahul Mahajan Lance Selfa Ralph Nader John R. Llewellyn Jo Guldi
March 24, 2005 Joshua Frank Talli Nauman Martin Espada Dave Lindorff Elaine Cassel Jack McCarthy Jack Random Barbara Ferguson Suzan Mazur Dorreen Yellow Bird Andrew Wimmer
and Mark Chmiel
Patrick Bond Mike Whitney Becky White Michael Donnelly Niranjan Ramakrishnan Ashley Smith David Swanson Derrick O'Keefe Paul A. Moore Dalton Walker Patrick Cockburn
March 22, 2005 William Blum Jim Vallette Greg Moses John Farley Ron Jacobs M. Junaid Alam Rep. Cynthia
McKinney Dave Lindorff James Petras
March 21, 2005 John Walsh Werther Mike Stark David Swanson James T. Phillips Mike Ferner Robert Jensen Paul Craig
Roberts Stew Albert Website of
the Day
March 19, 2005 Alexander Cockburn Tom Reeves Saul Landau Alan Maass Ron Jacobs David Green John Blair Steve Greenfield Ben Tripp Mike Roselle Joshua Frank Mark Weisbrot Dave Lindorff Sarah Schaffer Warren Hastings Poets' Basement
March 18, 2005 Dave Zirin Richard Thieme John Walsh David Swanson Ben Terrall David Boyle Dorreen Yellow Bird Mokhiber /
Weissman Greg Moses Website of
the Day
March 17, 2005 Christopher
Brauchli Bill Quigley Brian Cloughley Gary Bass / Adam Hughes Dave Lindorff Jude Wanniski Alexander Billet John Ross Website of the Day
March 16, 2005 Ralph Nader William Cook Kevin Zeese Jackie Corr Alan Maass David R. Kolker Cindy Ellen
Hill Paul Craig
Roberts
March 15, 2005 Gary Leupp Dave Lindorff Greg Moses Hadas Their
/ Katrina Yeaw Alison Weir Matt Koehler Evelyn Pringle Harry Browne
March 14, 2005 Ralph Nader David Miller Stan Cox Mike Roselle David Swanson Simona Sharoni Dave Lindorff Dorreen Yellow Bird Tom Barry Website of the Day
March 12 / 13, 2005 David H. Price Noam Chomsky Laura Carlsen Stan Goff Valentina Nicoli Michael Leonardi Saul Landau
/ Sarah Anderson Joe Bageant Manuel García,
Jr. Greg Moses James J. Brittain Ben Tripp Joshua Frank Fred Gardner Walter Brasch Ramzy Baroud Christopher
Brauchli Michael Donnelly Ron Jacobs Richard Oxman Poets' Basement
March 11, 2005 Jerry Fresia Ron Jacobs Dave Lindorff William James
Martin Muqtedar Khan Kathryn Ledebur Mike Whitney Dave Zirin Website of the Day
March 10, 2005 Paul Craig
Roberts John Marc Leas, Colleen McLaughlin
and Ashley Smith Larry Birns Michael Donnelly Luis Gomez Jackie Corr Uri Avnery Website of the Day
March 9, 2005 Jeffrey St.
Clair Ward Churchill Robert Fisk Bernice Powell Jackson Mickey Z. Dave Zirin Michael Donnelly James Reiss Vijay Prashad
March 8, 2005 Paul Craig
Roberts Robert Fisk Kurt Nimmo Suzan Mazur Evelyn Pringle Giuliana Sgrena Elaine Cassel
March 7, 2005 Dave Zirin Brian Cloughley John Chuckman Mike Whitney Mark Weisbrot Fred Gardner Richard Neville Uri Avnery
March 5 / 6, 2005 Alexander Cockburn Gary Leupp Ron Jacobs Tom Reeves Jenna Orkin Tom Barry Joshua Frank Moshe Adler Jane Stillwater Omar Barghouti / Jacqueline
Sfeir Christopher
Brauchli John Pilger Raúl
Zibechi David Krieger Three Takes on Nepal Surendra R. Devkota Bhishma Karki Joseph Pietri Ben Tripp Poets' Basement Website of
the Weekend
March 4, 2005 Frederick Hudson
March 3, 2005 Pat Williams Brian Cloughley Dave Lindorff Amira Hass Greg Moses Lynne Landes Nelson P. Valdés John Ross
March 2, 2005 Saul Landau
/ Farrah Hassen Mike Roselle M. Junaid Alam Suzan Mazur Jackson Thoreau Michael Donnelly Jeffrey St.
Clair Website of the Day
March 1, 2005 Scott Richard
Lyons David Lindorff Patrick Cockburn
/ David Enders Ron Jacobs Tanya Garcia Joseph Pietri Kona Lowell Paul Craig
Roberts Website of
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Hot Stories Alexander Cockburn Subcomandante
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April 7, 2005 I'll Keep My Hat OnTwo Weddings and a FuneralBy MICHAEL DICKINSON Istanbul. I remember Charles' first wedding. At that time I'd gone what some people might call a little crazy, and was trying to start a new movement called 'the International Front'. There was a short manifesto with ten demands aimed to make life freer and better for everybody --one of them being the abolition of the monarchy. The idea was simple. To show that you agreed with the demands, you merely had to sport a little badge with the word 'if' on it. When the majority of the population of Britain was wearing them - the government would have to meet the demands. To publicize the movement I handcuffed myself to the altar rail in St. Paul's Cathedral. But although that incident was mentioned in 'Time Out' magazine, and I managed to briefly explain the aims on a popular radio phone-in programme, feeling the idea wasn't catching on fast enough I revved up the campaign by putting myself forward as candidate for President of Britain and announcing that I was the Second Coming, which resulted in a tapped phone and being suspiciously shadowed in the streets. Eventually, to protect my safety and sanity, I abandoned the project and left the country. But I remember Charles' first wedding clearly, because my feverish revolutionary plot was at its peak at that time back then in '81... On the eve of the wedding I'm sitting in my bed-sit wondering what to do. The next day will be the ceremony, with the whole world looking on. Wouldn't this be a perfect time to perform an action that would outshadow the marriage and bring global attention to the existence of the 'International Front'? Stuck on my wardrobe door is the picture of a Negro youth, his face painted in a black and white tribal design. Using watercolors, I paint the pattern onto my own face. Finished, I look in the mirror and compare. My face is broken in black and white fragments, just like my warrior hero. Satisfied, I don a straw hat which seems to fit the image, pin an 'if' badge to my shirt, and go out into the night. I feel conspicuous walking to the underground, but there is dark between the streetlamps and not many people about. In the bright light of the station and the tube it's a different matter; my bizarre makeup draws many a second curious glance, but they're mostly tired commuters on their way home, and I seem well behaved enough, not raving or gesticulating. I get off at Fleet Street. It's a warm night and the pavements are crowded. People have come early to get a place to watch the Royal Party as they pass to and from St. Paul's on the morrow. Many carry little plastic union jacks to wave at the carriage. Metal fences have been erected against the side of the road. This time my face gets more attention, especially from those standing outside pubs with drinks in their hands. But reaction is generally mild: muttered "Look at that!" or "Oh my God!", widening of eyes and nudges, although one man calls out: "He's asking for trouble, that one!" The crowd in front of St. Paul's is denser. Some at the front are even camped on the ground in sleeping bags, determined to be able to tell their grandchildren that they actually witnessed Princess Diana in her wedding gown on that special day. The cathedral front is lit up with floodlights, and policemen and women stand silhouetted in various poses on the steps. A bright red carpet leading up from the street to the main entrance is being secured with heavy blows by a worker with a hammer. The pounding echoes around the square, putting me in mind of the nails being driven into the hands and feet of Christ, and the scene reminds me of a kind of Nazi Rally - the police, the people, the flags, the open space. "Are you a New Romantic?" asks a wide-eyed teenage girl, arm draped round the shoulder of her boyfriend. "In a way, I suppose," I reply. I do nothing. I walk back home, trying to exorcise the horror of it all. As I pass a petrol station a black man filling his tank notices my painted face and calls out: "Mister Magic!" Next morning it's the actual royal wedding. The family where I'm cleaning (I worked as a domestic at that time) have the television on full blast for the event, although no one is watching it. I'm hoovering in the living room when there's a ring at the front door. It's an old woman from across the road, asking them to turn the sound down or close the windows. Her son works nights and is trying to sleep, she says, and "it's impossible with that awful racket the commentator is making!" I'm impressed that here in middle-class Highgate on this joyful royal day at least one anti-monarchist has crawled out of the woodwork to voice their disapproval. In the late afternoon I put on the tribal makeup again and take the tube to Brixton, where I've learned there's a reggae concert to be held in a playground in Railton Road as an alternative to the Royal Wedding. I have badges and leaflets with me. It could be a rich recruitment area. I queue at the wooden gate to pay the two pound admission, but when I hand over a fiver to one of the guys collecting the money, he doesn't give me any change. I try to explain, but he curls his lip and waves me in, avoiding my eyes, saying I'd given the correct amount. There's a crowd waiting behind me; causing a scene doesn't seem to be a good idea, so I enter the playground, uncomfortably aware that I am now completely broke and will have to walk all the way back home. In the compound everybody's black, mostly Rastafarians, just standing around smoking spliffs and listening to the music from a reggae band. Parking myself next to a man in a red, green, and gold beret, I offer him a leaflet and a badge. He declines the leaflet but accepts the badge and hands it to the tiny daughter by his side. Noticing the free gift, other children approach with outstretched hands. I give them all badges. They're fascinated by my black and white makeup and ask what I'm supposed to be. While I'm bending down trying to explain, a little girl reaches out and rubs at my face. Delighted at her daring, several other little friends join in with giggling gusto, leaving my masterpiece smudged and my nose sore. I escape to the top of a playground slide to watch and listen to the music, but I realize that I am a misfit here. I'm not one of these cool, together, reggae blacks. I'm just a sad white loser. My mind's in a turmoil, no matter how I try to control it. As far as they're concerned I'm Bozo the Clown, only not as funny. I leave the party early, and yes, have to walk all the way home, miles and miles and miles. Dawn is breaking by the time I get there. My feet ache and my legs are tired, but there's the sudden trill of a blackbird, the smell of grass from the Heath, and noticing some glistening sap on still unfurling leaves on a tree illuminated by a street lamp, it suddenly feels good to be alive again. That's my memory of that first wedding day. Now the Prince, otherwise known as Earl of Chester, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Great Steward of Scotland, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, Knight of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, and Great Master and Principal Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, is getting married again, this time to a 58 year old divorcee whom Diana nicknamed 'the Rottweiller'. Once the ring's on her finger she'll be addressed as 'Princess Consort', but people already bow and curtsey to her. Not, this time, a grand state occasion in St. Paul's Cathedral, but at a humble ceremony at the Guildhall in Windsor. 'Mummy', Queen Elizabeth the Second, the richest woman in the world will not be present, but will attend a church blessing and reception at nearby Windsor Castle afterwards. Remember how she ruined her sister Margaret's life by refusing to let her marry Group Captain Peter Townsend because he was divorced? She's changed her tune a bit. So has the Church of England. The official reason for the abdication of Edward V111 in 1936 (putting the Queen's dad's bum on the throne instead) was that the church would not allow him to wed Wallis Simpson because it was forbidden to allow divorcees to remarry. (Actually it's now more generally believed that the real reason that forced Edward to abdicate was his Nazi connections and personal friendship with Adolf Hitler.) But we can't be sure of that until the mysterious documents in the 11 sealed 'Monckton Boxes' are allowed to be read in 2024. Whatever, the Church of England changed their mind in 2002 and officially approved the remarriage of divorcees, so both Charles and Camilla got the go ahead. Can't see why they bothered really, as they'd been live-in partners for several years, but probably as a way of increasing the loot flow from the Civil List, from which Charles is presently paid 4 million a year for 'official duties'. Larger earnings (over 7 million a year) come from his land in the duchy of Cornwall, of which Charles is Duke. Camilla will become Duchess. In a country where over five million live in absolute poverty, and most of the others are counting their pennies, the Prince's personal wealth is estimated at £346 million. And quite right too, many say. For one mustn't forget that in England the concept that "All Men are Created Equal" is treason. The Royal Family rules Great Britain and is head of the Church of England by Divine Right (God says they are born to reign). "The state of monarchy is the supremest thing upon earth; for kings are not only God's lieutenants upon earth, and sit upon God's throne, but even by God himself are called gods", said James I of England (and VI of Scotland). From this, he deduced that any objection to the way he ruled was blasphemy, and who are we to argue? So the date was all set for the nuptials of the happy pair, when what should happen to put the gloomers on it? Another divinely appointed individual (the Pope) goes and dies, and wants his funeral on the same day as the wedding! One was sure to overshadow the other, and Charles worked out which. Forced to postpone the ceremony for 24 hours, he heads to Rome for the Papal interment. For make no doubt about it, when it comes to claims of divine rights nothing can hold a candle to the Vatican. The Roman Church is founded on a political dogma claiming that the Pope is 'supreme ruler of the world'; superior to all kings, prime ministers and presidents, the only mediator in the salvation of God's elect, which insists that all other Churches, including the Church of England, 'are not Churches in the proper sense', and since this claim is believed by millions of voting people around the world, it's worth all these Presidents and Princes and Prime Ministers putting in an appearance with bowed heads, looking sad and soulful in magnificent surroundings around the decomposing body of the head of the richest corporation in the world - an excellent photo opportunity. Were it not for the risk of excommunication for blasphemy I might suggest that God is spinning in his grave right now at this breathtaking display of hubris, hypocrisy and death broadcast live from St Peter's Basilica in Rome. And so, after a few hours wearing the countenance of a sad spaniel in Italy, Charles will jet back to England and take on the role of merry marrying monarch yet again. Were it not for fear of being arrested under the 1848 Treason Felony Act, which makes it a criminal offence, punishable by life imprisonment, to advocate abolition of the monarchy in print, even by peaceful means, I would suggest just that. In fact I will. Is Britain a democracy? Democracy is based on the idea that we are equal, a system that gives power to the individual and the people as a whole. Monarchy is the antithesis of democracy - it has no place in a democratic society. It's time for them to go. In 1923 the BBC considered broadcasting the marriage of Lady Elizabeth Angela Marguerite Bowes-Lyon (later, the Queen Mother) to the Duke of York (the future George VI). Courtiers refused on the grounds that the service might be heard 'by men in public houses' with their caps still on. That would never do. Times have changed. I'm sure the BBC television will be covering the Prince's wedding extensively, just as they did the last one. And the funeral of the Pope, of course. As for me, I can't promise to keep my TV turned off over Friday and Saturday --such a feast of horror and comedy and tragedy can be fascinating. But I'll be keeping my cap on. MICHAEL DICKINSON is a writer and artist who works as
an English teacher in Istanbul, Turkey. He designed the cover
art for two CounterPunch books, Serpents
in the Garden and Dime's Worth of Difference,
as well as Grand
Theft Pentagon, forthcoming from Common Courage Press. He
can be contacted through his website of collage pictures at http://CARNIVAL_OF_CHAOS.TRIPOD.COM
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