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April 3, 2002
Robert Fisk
The Siege of Bethlehem
Alexander
Cockburn
The
Sins of the Church
April 2, 2002
Uri Avnery
Murdering Arafat?
Jeff Chang
Is
Protest Music Dead?
Lev Grinberg
Israel's State Terrorism
Norman
Madarasz
Bullying
Brazil
Robert Fisk
Farce and Terror
in Ramallah
Steve
Perry
Let's
Roll! ®:
The Marketing of Lisa Beamer
April 1, 2002
Stanton / Madsen
America's War Inc.
Rep. Dennis
Kucinich
Peace
and Nuclear Disarmament: a Call to Action
Bahour / Dahan
Bloodshed in Palestine:
A Way Out
Molly
Secours
Tennessee's
Kangaroo Court
Phyllis Pollack
The Making of Exile
on Main Street
Dave Marsh
DeskScan:
This Week's
Top 10 CDs
Francis Boyle
The Big Lie:
Palestine, Palestinians
and International Law
March 31, 2002
Jordan
Flaherty
Last
Night the Israeli
Military Tried to Kill Me
Kristen Schurr
Live from Bethlehem
Maha Sbitani
The
Israeli Army Took Over My House
Robert Fisk
Lies Leaders Tell When
They Want to Go to War
March 24/30, 2002
Alexander Cockburn
The Year
of the Yellow Notepad:
Plagiarism and History
Rep. Ron Paul
Slavery and the Draft
Fidel
Castro
A
Better World is Possible
Edward Said
What Price Oslo?
José
Saramago
Justice
and Democracy Denied
Azmi Bishara
Talking to Tanks
Jeffrey
St. Clair
Clearcutting
Montana
Alexander Cockburn
50 Years of James Bond
Wilhelm
Reich
Gethsemane
Claud Cockburn
The Horror of It All
Dave Marsh
What's
Playing at My Houe
David Vest
Remembering Tammy Wynette
Jeffrey
St. Clair
Waylon
Jennings:
an Honest Outlaw
March 23, 2002
Mokhiber/Weissman
A
Corporate Lawyer
Speaks Out
Saeed Vaseghi
The US and Iran's Quest
for Democracy
Brian
J. Foley
Does
Pedophilia Scandal Spell an Opportunity for Catholics?
Sheperd Bliss
American Soul and Empire
James
Packard Winkler
Occupation
and Terror:
Politics from a Gun Barrel
M. Shahid Alam
A New International Division
of Labor
T.W. Croft
Enron's
Attack on Our
Economic Security
March 22, 2002
Robert Jensen
Corporate Power is a
Threat to Democracy
Tommy
Ates
The
Future of Black Academia
Rep. Ron Paul
Why are We in Ukraine?
March 21, 2002
McQuinn,
Munson, & Wheeler
Stars
and Stripes:
Killing for the Flag?
John Chuckman
How Change is Wrought
David
Vest
Hail
to the Chaff
March 20, 2002
Kay Lee
Censorship at Angelfire
Robert
Jensen
The
Politics of Pain
and Pleasure
Sheperd Bliss
Notes from Hawai'i:
Trouble in Paradise
Rick Giambetti
Prozac
and Suicide:
an Interview with
Dr. David Healy
Philip Farruggio
Bullies
Lori Allen
Live
from Ramallah:
The Madness of Occupation
Resources:
100s of Links
About 9/11
CounterPunch:
Complete
Coverage of 9/11 and Its Aftermath
Five
Days That
Shook The World:
Seattle and Beyond
By Alexander
Cockburn
and Jeffrey St. Clair
Photos by Allan Sekula
(Click Here to Order from CounterPunch
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INSIDE
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TO
COUNTERPUNCH
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Published March 1, 2002
Read Whiteout and Find Out
How the CIA's Backing of the Mujahideen Created the World's Most
Robust Heroin Market and Helped to Finance the Rise of the Taliban
and Osama bin Laden
Whiteout:
CIA, Drugs & the
Press
by Alexander
Cockburn
and Jeffrey St. Clair
The New Crusade:
America's War on Terrorism
By Rahul Mahajan
The Memphis Blues Again:
Six Decades of Memphis Music Photographs
Photos by Ernest Withers
Text by Daniel Wolff
The New Intifada:
Resisting Israel's Apartheid
Edited by Roane Carey
A Pocket Guide to
Environmental Bad Guys
by James Ridgeway
and Jeffrey St. Clair
The
Phoenix Program
by Douglas Valentine
Al Gore:
A User's Manual
by Cockburn
and St. Clair
Buy
This Explosive
New Book at an
Amazing Discount!
Reviews of Gore:
a User's Manual
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April 3, 2002
[Editor's note: What
follows is Don Henley's letter to Hits magazine after they superimposed
his face in post-Grammy party photos.]
Dear Loathsome Trade Hacks,
I was terribly amused by your series
of fantasy scenarios detailing my supposed crawl through all
the post-Grammy "company store" parties. In truth,
I opted for a quiet, candlelit dinner with my beautiful wife
at a seaside restaurant. You see, I didn't want to attend any
of those sumptuous bashes and be the guy who ordered that one
extra glass of champagne that shifted the delicate balance and
sent the industry careening over the edge into the abyss of total
bankruptcy (although Sony's music group shows a profit of $203
million for this past fiscal year).
In retrospect, though, I probably should
have made the scene and kissed some record-company ass. Perhaps
I could have gotten my own label deal. Maybe, while standing
there admiring the ice sculpture filled with shrimp, I would
have had an epiphany, seen the light and been converted: There
is no God, there is no government, there are no individuals.
There is only THE CORPORATION. The sovereign, almighty, world-governing
Corporation-and we are all here to serve It.
Having thus come to my senses, I, too,
would then be able to sign fledgling artists to unconscionable,
long-term contracts with all those juicy deduction clauses like
the one for breakage that dates back to 1928, when the records
were made of shellac and would shatter if dropped. Tried to break
a CD lately? Why, you couldn't break one if you wedged it horizontally
between Zach Horowitz's butt cheeks and told him that all his
master copyrights were about to revert to the true owners, the
artists. But never mind that now. Then I could stick those stupid
artists with at least 50% of the independent-promotion costs,
even though they had nothing to do with allowing that practice
to become institutionalized. For an encore, I could whack 'em
again with "free goods," packaging deductions, video
costs, etc., etc., ad infinitum.
"Sit your temperamental, flaky,
naive ass down here, artist. Disgruntled about your deal after
your third album sold 5 million copies? Sure, we'll renegotiate
with you. We'll just give you what basically amounts to your
own money, which we've been holding in the pipeline and collecting
interest on, but we're also gonna start the clock all over again
and tack on three more albums at the end so that you're essentially
starting all over again. It's a beautiful thing. You're gonna
love it here-for the rest of your career, which actually could
be over in five minutes, but hey, that's not our problem (we
own your master copyrights, you boob). So you can just sell the
house in the hills and go back to that crappy little town you
came from, and the world 'will not long remember what we did
here, etc...' We'll just write off any losses we may have incurred
(although we really haven't incurred any). It's just the cost
of doing business. Then we'll proceed to the next gullible sap
with a dream. You came from diddlysquat, and you'll get used
to diddlysquat again.
"Meanwhile, here at media-mogul
headquarters, we've got to lock up the house in Santa Barbara,
as well as the one in the Hamptons (plus the vacation pad in
Acapulco) and rush off to get the corporate jet serviced. It's
in dire need of a tune-up after all those trips to France, and
the new one won't be delivered until we find the next Flavor-of-the-Month
and bring in some serious profits (or prophets-we could really
use either). After all, we've got to fund our mass-production
assembly line somehow. You know-all the crap we sign just because
some 21-year-old A&R man tells us it's brilliant. You can't
expect us to sacrifice our bottom line just for the sake of culture.
We don't give a shit about culture. That kind of starry-eyed
idealism doesn't fit in with our plan for world domination, much
less the plans of our board of directors and our major stockholders.
We've got quarterly reports to file,
and we've got a 90%-plus failure rate that screams out, 'We don't
know what the fuck we're doing.''' ("Gentlemen, gentlemen!
We've got to protect our phony baloney jobs!" -Mel Brooks,
Blazing Saddles)
"I mean, who would have thought
those freakin' hillbillies would have sold over 3 million albums
and won five Grammys!? And no tits, no ass, no cursing, no nothing!
Just...uh...musicianship and soulfulness. We don't get it. Is
there something we're missing? Is there some hunger out there
for authenticity? We're so confused!"
Meanwhile, back in the real world: In
order to finally settle these escalating disputes between artists
and the record companies with the dignity and class indicative
of these times, I have come up with a plan. Hilary Rosen and
I will engage in a bout of nude mud wrestling, which will be
broadcast on that paragon of good taste, the Fox Network (if
Fox doesn't want it, then we'll do it on The WB). If I win, she
has to sleep with Zach Horowitz. If she wins, I have to purchase
a lifetime subscription to HITS magazine-and actually read it.
Love and kisses,
Don Henley
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