: "Who's got the power? We've got the power. What kind of power? Youthpower!' The train was packed with dozens of high school students who had walked out of classes and jumped onto the BART subway without paying. They came from San Francisco, Oakland, Daly City, San Leandro, Hayward, Richmond, Pittsburg, San Leandro. Many had never participated in a protest action before, and the level of excitement ran high. They were on their way to Concord, another Bay Area city, to demonstrate against miserable conditions in their schools as well as the statewide attacks on immigrant rights, affirmative action, and now bilingual education."
posted by geoff on 12/09/2005 02:54:52 PM
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AlterNet: WireTap: California Students Protest Cuts in Education: "Today, it is California students who are shaping up as the force giving muscle to street-level organizing against the governor, perhaps ushering a new era of mass protest over local issues in the state. This time, instead of an anti-immigrant initiative, it's the governor's proposed cuts in education and public services that is fueling grassroots mobilization among affected constituencies -- 'special interests' to Arnold."
posted by geoff on 12/09/2005 02:43:48 PM
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In the 1960s the civil rights movement was sweeping across the nation. The headlines were captured by Dr. Martin Luther King and his non-violent protest movement. Other minority groups, including Chicanos, saw that some of the problems of the black community were being solved and decided to use those same methods. On March 8, 1968 high school students in Boyle Heights and other inner city Los Angeles neighborhoods walked out to protest inadequacies in public schools and to demand more culturally relevant, academically challenging school curriculum.
posted by geoff on 12/09/2005 02:36:55 PM
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Stansifer Radio CO
1805 South Walnut Street
Bloomington, IN 47401
posted by geoff on 12/08/2005 04:10:00 PM
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BBC NEWS | World | South Asia | India hits back in 'bio-piracy' battle: "With help from software engineers and patent examiners, Ms Kala and her colleagues are putting together a 30-million-page electronic encyclopaedia of India's traditional medical knowledge, the first of its kind in the world.
The ambitious $2m project, christened Traditional Knowledge Digital Library, will roll out an encyclopaedia of the country's traditional medicine in five languages - English, French, German, Japanese and Spanish - in an effort to stop people from claiming them as their own and patenting them.
posted by geoff on 12/07/2005 05:00:24 PM
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The place where you live, even if it is a small town of 69, 291 residents, is bigger than you can even imagine. After living in Bloomington for a few years, most people acquire a modified sense of geography. The strip malls full of decent dumpsters, less than two miles away on the east side of town, seem too distant to explore. Your friend's house, or even the bar, with the onset of winter, seems too perilous a distance to travel. When I lived in Columbus, I would ride my bike across campus, through the cold air of a Midwestern winter, past the looming complex of buildings where the brightest minds of academia and industry come together to concoct weapons of mass destruction, and over the river every day to get home. Now I barely make a trip of that distance once a week. Living in a small town has made cowards of us all.
I moved my things out of my friend's closet and into a basement room at a house named "Miles Away". 2.8 miles away to be exact, but the house is still the furthest outpost for all the Bloomington punks. My new roommates inhabit different social circles, I guess, but still, I don't see much of them. Riding home from the near west side for the first time last night really wasn't so bad, and I'll probably get a lot of pleasure at scoffing at my friends' complaints about the cold this winter, but riding to work in the early morning chill is an insult to an injury I'd rather avoid. So, I discovered Bloomington Transit. Did you know that you can attach your bike to any city bus for free? Did you know that the bus stops right in front of your house and that since you are a student (or in my case, possessing a found student ID), you can ride the bus for free? I didn't know these things, but there's a lot that I don't know. In the two years that I've lived in Bloomington, I had never ridden the bus. It made me feel a little bad when I thought about it. Here's this thing, that is such a huge part of people's life - something that, for some, is part of nearly every day, that totally contextualizes their notion of space and distance in the town, and its something that I've never really thought of.
So this morning, I walked across the street to the apartment complex where the bus stops and waited with two other folks in the chilly darkness for the bus to pull up. I held a woman's bike and watched feebly as she tried to show me how to attach my bike to the bus before realizing that the mechanism had frozen overnight. We sat in silence as the bus circled the apartment complex performing turn-around maneuvers with a precision that I hadn't witnessed since riding the bus to elementary school. I stared out the window as the bus turned down unknown streets where my bicycle tires had never tread, past groups of high school students congregated like shadows, all wrapped in their dark coats, about a street corner waiting for their own bus to arrive. Faces bathed in white fluorescent light, I stole surreptitious glances at the other people riding the bus with me: the smoking man from the apartment complex. The bitter-faced woman who helped me with my bike. The young woman in the beret and faux fur hood who got on the bus at the grocery store parking lot with the young man with the headphones and the afro haircut. There is a different world in the early morning with it's own inhabitants and within that world a difference between the walk past the newly refurbished houses of the near west side and a bus ride past the strips of aging businesses on south Walnut. I'm sure some of the others riding the bus hate the routine of the bus ride. I'm sure many wish they were the people driving alongside the bus, independent and solitary in their cars. I'm sure that by the end of this winter, the novelty of public transit will have worn off and seeing the fading BT signs will only be a reminder of this particular winter, and nothing more. But this morning, this early December morning, the newness of the ride feels exciting and it feels good to have the twenty minutes to notice the machinery of my head creaking into operation and my thoughts beginning to coalesce.
Last week, I played the first show with a new band. We're trying to have a different theme to each show with audio samples and graphics to fit the theme. The first show's theme was, appropriately, "first times". One of the songs that we played was about how the exact same thing can happen to you twice, three times, even more, and how that thing can seem entirely different because of all the other experiences and new perspectives that you've gained. Playing that show definitely felt new, but the newness of it, from the hours of practicing, to driving around gathering equipment, to setting up for the show, to the final trek across town, friends in tow, to the venue all felt so familiar. It could have been summer in the mid 90's in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. It could have been this time of the year, three years ago, when Defiance, Ohio was playing it's first show in Columbus. This made me think about how you can have mostly different experiences, in different places with different casts of characters, and they can feel new, but that the emotional weight of that newness always seems the same. It doesn't matter how many times you play a first show, or kiss someone for the first time, or learn a new skill or idea. It always feels scary and exciting and special and indelible.
My roommate told me to tell him if the noise was a problem. He was machining a tool post for a CNC machine to make circuit boards. He explained it a bit, but I didn't really understand. The simplified version was that he was making the tools to make the tools, which had a nice sound to it. I told him that the noise wouldn't bother me much and that I'd rather have the license to make late-night noise working on my own projects with impunity. I went to my little room and fell asleep in my new bed to the sound of grinding metal and the hum and clatter of an angry old space heater.
posted by geoff on 12/05/2005 10:24:00 AM
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I got this in e-mail. It is an account of a peaceful protest by a Texas death row inmate. I found it interesting to get first hand accounts of how prisoners are treated, particularly those who try to be outspoken about their conditions of incareceration and their politics. Will's website and story (linked above) are also worth reading.
The protest has begun! I'm sitting here in a cell coated in military-grade
crowd-control riot gas. I've been completely stripped naked and my body is
on fire. All I have in this cell is a mattress saturated with "chemical
agents" and the toilet is broken and filled with feces and urine. I was
barely able to squeeze a pen and some paper under the "management door" just
now.
Yesterday, Tuesday, 6-1-05, I jacked the handcuffs coming back from the
shower. (i.e. after I was in my cell, I stuck my arms out of the food slot
to be un-handcuffed. When the officer unlatched one cuff I quickly pulled
them into my cell). Then, I immediately began "suiting up." I put my clothes
on and my homemade gas mask, then rigged up my door to where it couldn't be
opened.
All of the ranking officers came including the Captain and the major. They
started their propaganda amongst themselves: "Yeah, I guess Will just wants
to get his ass whooped." "I think we need to see how many cans of gas it
takes before the whole cell turns orange.".Blah blah blah. One interesting
thing: Major Nelson told me that she read an open letter addressed to the
staff here which I wrote about a week ago. In the letter I basically stated
that I'm a peaceful person and asked that the staff not be assaultive and
cause things to get out of hand. Ms Nelson said that she "read my
propaganda" and added in a threatening manner: "The team will be here in a
few minutes and we'll see how much your letter mattered!" She obviously
ordered the C-O's on the team to be excessively assaultive. This system
always reacts violently and sadistically to peaceful protest.
A few minutes later the 5-man team arrived in full riot gear: Helmet with
steel face mask, heavy bullet-proof/shank proof vest, gas mask, leg and feet
plates that look like a baseball catchers and the lead man had a riot
shield. Lt. Bryant was giving the orders and Sgt. Poole had the gas
canister. The new gas can they have is like a small all black fire
extinguisher. I was told its called Top Cop LE-10 Crowd Control. It's way
worse than the old stuff.
The team lined up at my door Gestapo fashion, another officer focused the
video camera in on the ranking officers and Lt. Bryant yelled "offender
Will, give up the hand restraints and strip search or chemical agents and a
5-man team will be utilized." I braced myself for the blast, held my sheet
up, Bryant gave the order again, then Sgt. Poole squeezed the trigger. Even
though I had my face covered up and had a sheet to block some of the gas, it
still took my breath away.
It took me a few minutes to gain my senses back, then I went up to the door
and tried to talk but I couldn't get out what I wanted to say; I was still a
bit dazed. So, I stepped back behind the "shield" I made with my sheet and
prepared for the second blast. Sgt. Poole fired again, this time emptying
the entire container. This isn't a small can of mace or pepper gas, this is
a big canister of crowd control riot gas, the same kind the military uses.
Right after the second blast I went to the door and yelled "Give Jaime
Elizalde Jr. and Tony Egbuno Ford an immediate stay of execution and I'll
come out." The team tensed up and Lt. Bryant yelled in a fury, "Roll the
door!" No one has ever said anything like that before so I surely made him
mad. These officers are so completely indoctrinated that they loose all
sense of self-control when a person challenges this system.
The electric gears on the door turned but they couldn't open it. I thought
Lt. Bryant was going to have a stroke! I don't think anyone has ever locked
a cell door on him like that before. They started beating, banging, kicking
and shaking the door like schoolyard bullies throwing a fit because they
couldn't reach the kid they wanted to beat up. They kept ordering me to come
out but I wouldn't.
The gas began getting to my eyes, then I went to the door and told Poole
that I was coming out peacefully and that this was a nonviolent..Bamm!! I
head Lt. Bryant give the order and before I could finish saying "protest"
and move, Sgt. Poole gassed me right in the face. The force of the blast
caused my head to jerk back and I was temporarily blinded. I stumbled back a
little then wiped the thick coat of gas that felt like lava off my face.
I waited a few more minutes then I told them that I'd come out peacefully in
a non-violent manner. I put the handcuff key in the security tray slot. Then
I put my clothes in the slot, which is procedure before a person leaves his
cell. I took my gas mask off and was immediately blinded and I couldn't
breathe at all. I doubled over and began choking and gasping for air. It
felt like someone had tied a hangman's noose around my neck and left me
hanging. My lungs were on fire and I thought that I was going to die right
then. Everything went black and all I could think of was air: "I need to
breathe, I need air, air, I need air, I need to breathe!"
The officers were yelling something but I couldn't understand them; I
couldn't breathe, I couldn't see and I couldn't hear. I tried to open my
eyes but it was impossible. After gaining some of my senses back through the
choking and coughing I managed to get the handcuffs into the food slot with
the rest of my clothes. I was handcuffed, I unlocked the door and I came out
gasping for air.
Though they're supposed to allow us to decontaminate they just led me to the
shower, pressed the button twice for about a total of 1 minute then took me
back out onto the run. I gained enough oxygen to where I could talk so I
addressed the camera between dry-heaving and coughing: "This is a direct
action in protest of the pending execution of Jaime Elizalde Jr., Tony
Egbuno Ford, and all others with execution dates!! This is a direct action
in protest of the inhumane conditions we're forced to live under on a daily
basis!!"
As they were dragging all of my property out of my cell through the gas I
continued to address the incident camera in a calm but loud and firm voice:
"We stand in solidarity with all anti-death penalty groups in the free world
in demanding an immediate end to capital punishment." Completely naked,
blinded, coughing and choking I kept on until they put me back in my cell on
the gas soaked floor.
I was being held down by three officers so I couldn't move. They un-cuffed
me and left me in the cell naked, covered in gas and gasping for air. They
couldn't shut the door all the way so they moved me over to 84 cell. So,
here I am, completely naked in this cell, still burning up from head to toe.
I tried to pull some boxers in the cell but they wouldn't fit- the cell is
too sealed up. All I could "fish" in were this pen and a piece of paper.
Egbuno just left out to an attorney visit. He hollered at me to let me know
that he's going to conduct a one-person sit-in in the hallway and refuse to
move. That'll be his start on the protest. Everyone else participating is
housed at the opposite end of this 500 man building but I heard them call
the ER team down there so I know they kicked it off! Nothing like this has
ever been done before and it's a beautiful thing!
Go to www.robertwill.co.nr and www.tonyford.org for more info. We need
everyone on the outside to stand with us in solidarity and we absolutely
need your support!
>From Neo-Auschwitz
With strength and love in the struggle:
Rob Will
Robert Will # 999402
Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, TX 77351
posted by geoff on 12/05/2005 10:12:00 AM
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GeoffsGiveHing
Swancho
posted by geoff on 12/04/2005 05:29:00 PM
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