
Needless to say, this policy decision to party on the Titanic was not made democratically. As is utterly typical, our Wall Street, War Street, and duopoly “betters” in first class didn’t consider us poor slobs in steerage at all—except to the extent it’s been necessary to brainwash us that the Titanic is being steered by responsible adults. To use Henry Giroux’s brilliant analytic term, we’re disposable—as disposable as the reams of toilet paper the selfish, hedonistic overindulgence of a “party to end all parties” would necessitate. To our Wall Street, War Street, and duopoly betters in first-class, we unwashed slobs in steerage are—like so much toilet paper—simply there to be shat upon and flushed.
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Parting shot—a word from the editors
The Best Definition of Donald Trump We Have Found
In his zeal to prove to his antagonists in the War Party that he is as bloodthirsty as their champion, Hillary Clinton, and more manly than Barack Obama, Trump seems to have gone “play-crazy” -- acting like an unpredictable maniac in order to terrorize the Russians into forcing some kind of dramatic concessions from their Syrian allies, or risk Armageddon.However, the “play-crazy” gambit can only work when the leader is, in real life, a disciplined and intelligent actor, who knows precisely what actual boundaries must not be crossed. That ain’t Donald Trump -- a pitifully shallow and ill-disciplined man, emotionally handicapped by obscene privilege and cognitively crippled by white American chauvinism. By pushing Trump into a corner and demanding that he display his most bellicose self, or be ceaselessly mocked as a “puppet” and minion of Russia, a lesser power, the War Party and its media and clandestine services have created a perfect storm of mayhem that may consume us all.— Glen Ford, Editor in Chief, Black Agenda Report
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7 comments
Great piece of work Patrick. The problem for those of us who are Indispensables, trapped in steerage, and crying out against injustice…is convincing our fellow lesser people that they’re not part of the party on deck…that they’ll never be part of that party, but will be the first to drown, thanks to the suicidal excesses of our duopolistic overlords. Unfortunately, it is impossible to awaken those who pretend to sleep…and I’ve been unable to awaken even those closest to me. I grow weary of preaching to the choir.
Share John Hall’s experience, though I’m ready to back this desperately needed effort as it deserves. As he notes, the capitalist system has done such a job of disabling the population’s ability to even react to the most ghastly outrages and injustices that it seems we face not only an informational/mobilisation challenge, but a widespread temperamental toxicity, for lack of a better word. This toxicity renders otherwise decent and caring people indifferent or even hostile to our message of social change …or else. Personally , although a lifetime radical, have yet to get my own wife and kids—now in their 20s—to listen to my version of reality, or read TGP and other reliable sources of news. It’s beyond frustrating!!
If anyone has a solution to that, I guess its the first thing we need to tackle. To me it’s beginning to look like the search for a cure for cancer.
Gregor Mamsa
Bridgeport
Conn.
Attention editors!
The shares plugin does not seem to be working!
A moment ago when I was trying to share this article on Facebook there were almost 150 shares, and now I see only 4!
Thanks for the heads up. Facebook seems to be doing something weird, but now it appears to be working again. Our latest count is 157.
—Webmaster
UPDATE: At 15:50 EST it was 161, now its back to 4! Facebook playing with us.
A great call to service, to humanity, and all that lives. Will follow your developments with great interest and support.
I would happily trade Hillary Clinton and the Donald for Putin on the Ritz.
Yes, we’ve experienced a brilliant overture now and as the climactic finale and last crescendo reverberate across the mass of nodding heads, their hearts and minds overflowing with the inspiration of beholding such unparalleled and unrepentant genius, we now await the introductory strains of the opera itself.
But the conductor has turned to the audience, in what appears to an unorthodox, perhaps spontaneous gesture, and helpfully sets them up for what is to come. He clears his throat and announces:
“What we need is a ‘movement of movements’ . . . ”
Indeed! And if the tone has ever been better established for what will now begin to unfold in Act I, I’m surely not aware of it.
This is going to be really profound, life-changing, paradigm-shifting, awe-inspiring! When that curtain goes up, we will witness history being made. Not ordinary history, not the humdrum repetitious cycling of unremarkable space-fillers and faceless bureaucrats, but the kind of history which sets up whole millennia in epoch-shaping archetypes, the kind of history which embraces the entire arc of human drama . . . sort of a history of histories.
Christ, I’m getting restless. When will that damn curtain go up?