(some satire from myrln, in the spirit of a Yippie heart)
George Dubya’s War Prayer
Dear Lord, thank you for he’ping protect the oil fields and get them in the hands of those who rightly should have them, meaning me ‘n’ Dickie.
And Lord, now I ask your he’p in making my subjects…hee-hee-hee…I mean, my people…you know, the electoralites…understand why I had to send their sons and daughters to get killed to secure that oil (and thank you for letting me keep my two little girls safe at home where they oughta be sometimes, I know how partial you are to them, being blonde and all — them, I mean, not you).
And Lord, I hope you understand how I simply had to lie my ass off about Saddam’s nucular weapons and such in order to get folks whipped up in a froth so’s we could get this war on. I mean, it’s not like I really broke any Commandment since Saddam’s not a neighbor of mine (like Mr. Rogers was) and since he ain’t Christian anyway but one of them heathen towelheads we got to deal with cuz you stuck the oil over in that desert ‘steada here in the good ole US of A where it rightly belonged. Not that I’m criticizing or nothing. I know you got a soft spot for that Middle East, what with you sending your own Son there and all and getting him killed the way you done. (But not for oil, heh-heh.)
And Lord, I thank you for giving me this war. It sure beats the shit (oops, sorry) outta anything Jeb’s got or ever will have (‘cepting his Florida thing hanging down at the bottom of the country).
So I guess that’s it for now, Lord. This is George Dubya Bush, your Commander in Chief in common with you, sending along a salute and my best wishes for all you undertake on my behalf (and Dickie’s) now and in the future which I’m sure will suit me ‘n’ mine just fine. Talk to you again soon.

By the end of the 60s, I was married with two little kids and living in the rural town where my husband was teaching. I protested in what meager ways I could, but my heart was with the Yippies. Who were the Yippies? They’re somewhat documented here, and what follows is excerpted from that piece.
The Yippies, who came up with the name first and the acronym “Youth International Party” later, pulled their first famous act at the New York Stock Exchange. They floated down dollar bills and then laughed hysterically as millionaire stockbrokers scrambled madly after the money. They wanted to celebrate the “death of money” and expose the greediness of American society. From then on, the Yippies would put soot bombs at Con Edison Headquarters to warn about pollution, plaster SEE CANADA NOW signs on Army Recruiting Booths and mail 3,000 marijuana joints to random strangers from the phone book. Abbie’s antics made him a media celebrity along with the Yippies’ other leader, Jerry Rubin, best known for dressing in a Revolutionary War outfit and blowing bubbles at a House Un-American Committee hearing. Many groups in the sixties were so earnest and self-righteous that the Yippies provided some of the only examples of radicals with a sense of humor.
Contrary to Abbie often being portrayed as a comic buffoon, … he was a very serious, committed activist who gave away more money than he made. She had met him in New York, when Abbie had opened a “Free Store” for low-income people and set up a place for the homeless to come. He sold goods from cooperatives in the South who were trying to escape poverty.
As the Yippies gained more attention, however, the focus shifted towards pulling off even more outrageous activities rather than setting up “counter institutions” like the Free Store. Media dependency and addiction were setting in. Some began accusing the Yippies of provoking violent confrontations with the police, though others believed the police unleashed the violence. In October of 1967, in what would become one of the most important protests of the 60s, the March on the Pentagon mobilized 100,000 various anti-war activists.
At the protest, the Yippies had declared their intention to “levitate” the Pentagon, and to exorcise it of all the evil spirits that were killing Americans and Vietnamese women and children thousands of miles away. Roz put on the footage of the levitation and I could hear through the phone the chanting of “Ommmmmm.” US marshals surrounding the Pentagon moved in and started arresting demonstrators. One famous photo shows a protester putting a daisy into the gun of a policeman. The March was only the prologue to what would become increasingly more violent confrontations with the police.
I think perhaps that, as much as we enjoyed the efforts of the early Yippies to draw attention to important issues through humor and satire, it became pretty apparent that those tactics were not going to result in real change happening. Frustration led to more confrontational behavior, as is also happening today.
As I sit here watching Baghdad being violently destroyed , live, before of the eyes of the whole world of television, I can’t help see that the confrontation in which the anti-war protestors are engaging to make their points heard is nothing compared to the violence that we are inflicting upon the innocents of Iraq. As an American, I am ashamed of what my country’s leaders are doing in my name. Shock but no awe.

We’re doing it. Right now we’re bombing the hell out of Baghdad. The whole world is watching as we rear our ugly American head.

Thanks to b!X to the link to this image of the police attack on today’s anti-war demonstrators in SF:

Last-Minute Message for a Time Capsule
By Philip Appleman
I have to tell you this, whoever you are:
that on one summer morning here, the ocean
pounded in on tumbledown breakers,
a south wind, bustling along the shore,
whipped the froth into little rainbows,
and a reckless gull swept down the beach
as if to fly were everything it needed.
I thought of your hovering saucers,
looking for clues, and I wanted to write this down,
so it wouldn’t be lost forever —
that once upon a time we had
meadows here, and astonishing things,
swans and frogs and luna moths
and blue skies that could stagger your heart.
We could have had them still,
and welcomed you to earth, but
we also had the righteous ones
who worshipped the True Faith, and Holy War.
When you go home to your shining galaxy,
say that what you learned
from this dead and barren place is
to beware the righteous ones.
from New and Selected Poems,1956-1996
University of Arkansas Press, 1996

Live from Baghdad — Where is Raed is a Blogger-powered weblog straight from the heart of the matter. MSNBC.com spotlights Raed in its section on Blogspotting.
The power of the blog was given its due on the NBC-tv news tonight as well, as a segment featured Eli Pariser , the force behind moveon.org, who orchestrated so many of the planet wide-war protests from his laptop, and internet culture chronicler Harold Rheingold, who spoke to the power that blogging brings to empowering citizens to organzize efficiently and effectively. In three days, moveon.org managed to organize a level of organized protests that it took three years for protest organizers to do for the Viet Nam war.
Now, that’s “power to the people!”

Welcome to Kevin Sites’s new weblog from Iraq. Sites is a CNN correspondent, but his weblog is his personal journal. Check out his recent photos.
On Monday, he posted his feelings about blogging:
It’s good to be in the blogosphere.
Xeni and John, I hope you two are incredibly proud of yourselves. Look at all of the people responding, because you put this blog out there. This experience has really made me rethink my rather orthodox views of reaching folks via mass media. Blogging is an incredible tool, with amazing potential. The feedback readers are posting motivates me to provide as much as I can for all of these folks hungry for first-hand info. Will probably have another full story today — plus, will try to send some photos from Halabja taken yesterday, horrible Internet connections permitting. You guys are my heroes.
First-hand bloginfo from Iraq. Wow!

This, in response to jfcates’ request:
1. Where do I stand on the eve of this war?
See here and here and here……
2. Has my position caused arguments with friends or family?
Not a one. Just take a look at my son’s weblog here.
3. Is there some other issue making me grind my teeth?
Figuring out how to psyche myself up to move myself and my 87 year old mother to a less expensive housing arrangement.
So, there you are.

We Americans are the Greeks of our day, and as we now go to war, we should appreciate not only the beauty of the tale, but also the warnings within it.
So ends “Cassandra Speaks” by Nicholas Kristof (NY Times).
Some statements from the article:
— Troy offers us three lessons about war.
— Agamemnon was the Donald Rumsfeld of his day, needlessly angering his key allies.
–Troy’s fundamental failing was not a military one.
–So, by Zeus, that third lesson from Troy is the paramount need to listen to skeptical voices.
But Bush listens to his own personal god, not to the millions of Cassandras who circle the planet in candlelight.

I took these photos at a candlelight peace vigil in which I participated tonight. It took place at the busiest intersection in the Albany area, less than 3 miles from where I live, and it was too close for me to be comfortable if I didn