dinsdag 30 augustus 2016

Glazen hart

Ook al hield ik haar tegen met me handen,
Viel mijn glazen hart
toch uit mijn borstkast.
In tien duizend stukken op de grond.
de scherven zag ik in vlinders veranderen,
opvliegen
 en in de harten van andere landen.
Bij iedere ontmoeting
en bij ieder gesprek,
word er weer een stukje terug gelegd.

maandag 15 augustus 2016

Krans van dromen

We plukke onze dromen als bloemen 
en dragen ze trots als een krans van madeliefjes.
de manier waarop we ze dragen, 
raken we ze kwijt.
Madeliefje of "Bellis perennis" 
betekent eeuwige schoonheid
of "alle jaren mooi"
maar geplukte dromen,
net als bloemen, 
zijn enkel kortstondig schoon
en voor hen word de stervelijkheid,
"het nieuwe gewoon"

maandag 9 mei 2016

Iron Hans - Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm

Grimm. 136

Iron Hans


Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm

Once upon a time there was a king who had a great forest near his castle, full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent out a huntsman to shoot a deer, but the huntsman did not come back again.


"Perhaps he has had an accident," said the king, and the following day he sent out two other huntsmen who were to search for him, but they did not return either. Then on the third day, he summoned all his huntsmen, and said, "Search through the whole forest, and do not give up until you have found all three."

But none of these came home again either, nor were any of the hounds from the pack that they had taken with them ever seen again.

From that time on, no one dared to go into these woods, and they lay there in deep quiet and solitude, and all that one saw from there was an occasional eagle or hawk flying overhead.
This lasted for many years, when an unknown huntsman presented himself to the king seeking a position, and he volunteered to go into the dangerous woods.

The king, however, did not want to give his permission, and said, "It is haunted in there. I am afraid that you will do no better than did the others, and that you will never come out again."
The huntsman answered, "Sir, I will proceed at my own risk. I know nothing of fear."


The huntsman therefore set forth with his dog into the woods. It was not long before the dog picked up a scent and wanted to follow it, but the dog had run only a few steps when it came to a deep pool, and could go no further. Then a naked arm reached out of the water, seized the dog, and pulled it under.

When the huntsman saw that, he went back and got three men. They returned with buckets and baled out the water. When they could see to the bottom, there was a wild man lying there. His body was brown like rusty iron, and his hair hung over his face down to his knees. They bound him with cords and led him away to the castle.

Everyone was greatly astonished at the wild man. The king had him put into an iron cage in his courtyard, forbidding, on pain of death, that the cage door be opened. The queen herself was to safeguard the key.

From this time forth everyone could once again go safely into the woods.
The king had a son of eight years. One day he was playing in the courtyard, and during his game his golden ball fell into the cage.




The boy ran to the cage and said, "Give me my ball."
"Not until you have opened the door for me," answered the man.
"No," said the boy, "I will not do that. The king has forbidden it," and he ran away.
The next day he came again and demanded his ball.

The wild man said, "Open my door," but the boy would not do so.
On the third day the king had ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, "Even if I wanted to, I could not open the door. I do not have the key."

Then the wild man said, "It is under your mother's pillow. You can get it there."


The boy, who wanted to have his ball back, threw all caution to the wind, and got the key. The door opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his finger. When it was open, the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball, and hurried away.


The boy became afraid. He cried out and called after him, "Oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall get a beating."

The wild man turned around, picked him up, set him on his shoulders, and ran into the woods.
When the king came home he noticed the empty cage and asked the queen how it had happened. She knew nothing about it, and looked for the key, but it was gone. She called the boy, but no one answered.

The king sent out people to look for him in the field, but they did not find him. Then he could easily guess what had happened, and great sorrow ruled at the royal court.

After the wild man had once more reached the dark woods, he set the boy down from his shoulders, and said to him, "You will never again see your father and mother, but I will keep you with me, for you have set me free, and I have compassion for you. If you do what I tell you, it will go well with you. I have enough treasures and gold, more than anyone in the world."

He made a bed of moss for the boy, upon which he fell asleep. The next morning the man took him to a spring and said, "Look, this golden spring is as bright and clear as crystal. You shall sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into it, otherwise it will be polluted. I shall come every evening to see if you have obeyed my order."

The boy sat down at the edge of the spring, and saw how sometimes a golden fish and sometimes a golden snake appeared from within, and took care that nothing fell into it. As he was thus sitting there, his finger hurt him so fiercely that he involuntarily put it into the water. He quickly pulled it out again, but saw that it was completely covered with gold. However hard he tried to wipe the gold off again, it was to no avail.

That evening Iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said, "What has happened to the spring?"
"Nothing, nothing," he answered, holding his finger behind his back, so the man would not be able to see it.

But the man said, "You have dipped your finger into the water. This time I will let it go, but be careful that you do not again let anything else fall in."

Very early the next morning the boy was already sitting by the spring and keeping watch. His finger hurt him again, and he rubbed it across his head. Then unfortunately a hair fell down into the spring. He quickly pulled it out, but it was already completely covered with gold.

Iron Hans came, and already knew what had happened. "You have let a hair fall into the spring," he said. "I will overlook this once more, but if it happens a third time then the spring will be polluted, and you will no longer be able to stay with me."

On the third day the boy sat by the spring and did not move his finger, however much it hurt him. But time passed slowly for him, and he looked at the reflection of his face in the water. While doing this he bent down lower and lower, wanting to look straight into his eyes, when his long hair fell from his shoulders down into the water. He quickly straightened himself up, but all the hair on his head was already covered with gold, and glistened like the sun. You can imagine how frightened the poor boy was. He took his handkerchief and tied it around his head, so that the man would not be able to see his hair.

When the man came, he already knew everything, and said, "Untie the handkerchief."
The golden hair streamed forth, and no excuse that the boy could offer was of any use.


"You have failed the test, and you can stay here no longer. Go out into the world. There you will learn what poverty is. But because you are not bad at heart, and because I mean well by you, I will grant you one thing: If you are ever in need, go into the woods and cry out, 'Iron Hans,' and then I will come and help you. My power is great, greater than you think, and I have more than enough gold and silver."

Then the prince left the woods, and walked by beaten and unbeaten paths on and on until at last he reached a great city. There he looked for work, but he was not able to find any, because he had not learned a trade by which he could make a living. Finally he went to the castle and asked if they would take him in.

The people at court did not at all know how they would be able to use him, but they took a liking to him, and told him to stay. Finally the cook took him into service, saying that he could carry wood and water, and rake up the ashes.

Once when no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the food to the royal table. Because he did not want them to see his golden hair, he kept his cap on. Nothing like this had ever before happened to the king, and he said, "When you approach the royal table you must take your hat off."

"Oh, sir," he answered, "I cannot. I have an ugly scab on my head."
Then the king summoned the cook and scolded him, asking him how he could take such a boy into his service. The cook was to send him away at once. However, the cook had pity on him, and let him trade places with gardener's boy.

Now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig, and put up with the wind and bad weather.

Once in summer when he was working alone in the garden, the day was so hot that he took his hat off so that the air would cool him. As the sun shone on his hair it glistened and sparkled. The rays fell into the princess's bedroom, and she jumped up to see what it was.
She saw the boy and called out to him, "Boy, bring me a bouquet of flowers."

He quickly put on his cap, picked some wildflowers, and tied them together.
As he was climbing the steps with them, the gardener met him and said, "How can you take the princess a bouquet of such common flowers? Quick! Go and get some other ones, and choose only the most beautiful and the rarest ones."

"Oh, no," replied the boy, the wild ones have a stronger scent, and she will like them better."
When he got into the room, the princess said, "Take your cap off. It is not polite to keep it on in my presence."
He again responded, "I cannot do that. I have a scabby head."

She, however, took hold of his cap and pulled it off. His golden hair rolled down onto his shoulders, and it was a magnificent sight. He wanted to run away, but she held him by his arm, and gave him a handful of ducats. He went away with them, but he did not care about the gold.

He took the gold pieces to the gardener, saying, "I am giving these things to your children for them to play with."

The next day the princess called to him again, asking him to bring her a bouquet of wildflowers. When he went in with it, she immediately grabbed at his cap, and wanted to take it away from him, but he held it firmly with both hands. She again gave him a handful of ducats. He did not want to keep them, giving them instead to the gardener for his children to play with. On the third day it was no different. She was not able to take his cap away from him, and he did not want her gold.
Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The king gathered together his people, not knowing whether or not fight back against the enemy, who was more powerful and had a large army.

Then the gardener's boy said, "I am grown up, and I want to go to war as well. Just give me a horse."
The others laughed and said, "After we have left, then look for one by yourself. We will leave one behind for you in the stable."

After they had left, he went into the stable, and led the horse out. It had a lame foot, and it limped higgledy-hop, higgledy-hop.

Nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away into the dark woods. When he came to the edge of the woods, he called "Iron Hans" three times so loudly that it sounded through the trees.

The wild man appeared immediately, and said, "What do you need?"
"I need a strong steed, for I am going to war."
"That you shall have, and even more than you are asking for."

Then the wild man went back into the woods, and before long a stable-boy came out of the woods leading a horse. It was snorting with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained. Behind them followed a large army of warriors, outfitted with iron armor, and with their swords flashing in the sun.


The youth left his three-legged horse with the stable-boy, mounted the other horse, and rode at the head of the army. When he approached the battlefield, a large number of the king's men had already fallen, and before long the others would have to retreat. Then the youth galloped up with his iron army and attacked the enemies like a storm, beating down all who opposed him. They tried to flee, but the youth was right behind them, and did not stop, until not a single man was left.

However, instead of returning to the king, he led his army on a roundabout way back into the woods, and then called for Iron Hans.
"What do you need?" asked the wild man.
"Take back your steed and your army, and give me my three-legged horse again."

It all happened just as he had requested, and he rode home on his three-legged horse.
When the king returned to his castle, his daughter went to meet him, and congratulated him for his victory.
"I am not the one who earned the victory," he said, "but a strange knight who came to my aid with his army."
The daughter wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the king did not know, and said, "He pursued the enemy, and I did not see him again."

She asked the gardener where his boy was, but he laughed and said, "He has just come home on his three-legged horse. The others have been making fun of him and shouting, 'Here comes our higgledy-hop back again.' They also asked him, 'Under what hedge have you been lying asleep all this time?' But he said, 'I did better than anyone else. Without me it would have gone badly.' And then they laughed at him all the more."

The king said to his daughter, "I will proclaim a great festival. It shall last for three days, and you shall throw a golden apple. Perhaps the unknown knight will come."

When the festival was announced, the youth went out into the woods and called Iron Hans.
"What do you need?" he asked.
"To catch the princess's golden apple."
"It is as good as done," said Iron Hans. "And further, you shall have a suit of red armor and ride on a spirited chestnut horse."

When the day came, the youth galloped up, took his place among the knights, and was recognized by no one. The princess came forward and threw a golden apple to the knights. He was the only one who caught it, and as soon as he had it, he galloped away.

On the second day Iron Hans had outfitted him as a white knight, and had given him a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught the apple. Without lingering an instant, he galloped away with it.

The king grew angry and said, "That is not allowed. He must appear before me and tell me his name."
He gave the order that if the knight who caught the apple, were to go away again, they should pursue him, and if he would not come back willingly, they were to strike and stab at him.

On the third day, he received from Iron Hans a suit of black armor and a black horse, and he caught the apple again. But when he was galloping away with it, the king's men pursued him, and one of them got so close to him that he wounded the youth's leg with the point of his sword. In spite of this he escaped from them, but his horse jumped so violently that his helmet fell from his head, and they could see that he had golden hair. They rode back and reported everything to the king.
The next day the princess asked the gardener about his boy.

"He is at work in the garden. The strange fellow has been at the festival too. He came home only yesterday evening. And furthermore, he showed my children three golden apples that he had won."
The king had him summoned, and he appeared, again with his cap on his head. But the princess went up to him and took it off. His golden hair fell down over his shoulders, and he was so handsome that everyone was amazed.
"Are you the knight who came to the festival every day, each time in a different color, and who caught the three golden apples?" asked the king.

"Yes," he answered, "and here are the apples," taking them out of his pocket, and returning them to the king. "If you need more proof, you can see the wound that your men gave me when they were chasing me. But I am also the knight who helped you to your victory over your enemies."
"If you can perform deeds like these then you are not a gardener's boy. Tell me, who is your father?"
"My father is a powerful king, and I have as much gold as I might need."
"I can see," said the king, "that I owe you thanks. Can I do anything for you?"
"Yes," he answered. "You can indeed. Give me your daughter for my wife."

The maiden laughed and said, "He does not care much for ceremony, but I already had seen from his golden hair that he was not a gardener's boy," and then she went and kissed him.
His father and mother came to the wedding, and were filled with joy, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear son again.


While they sitting at the wedding feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a proud king came in with a great retinue. He walked up to the youth, embraced him, and said, "I am Iron Hans. I had been transformed into a wild man by a magic spell, but you have broken the spell. All the treasures that I possess shall belong to you."

donderdag 28 april 2016

The beautifull art of Beth Cavener

The amazing sculptures by American artist Beth Cavener, who explores the emotions and the dark sides of the human psyche featuring animals in powerful and captivating compositions. Rabbits, wolves, foxes or snakes transpose human fear, anger or aggression in beautiful clay sculptures, impressive by their dynamism and fine detail. I also recommend you the video introducing the artist Beth Cavener, at the end of the photo's.







maandag 18 april 2016

kort


---

"Terwijl je ladderzat op de ladder zat, proefde ik de goedkope tequila in je onverstaanbaar binnensmonds gebrabbel"
---



Words, that gentle fall in my mind as raindrops fall of the leaves in a forest after the rain, a beautiful echo of the past.

---


"En terwijl ze voorbij loopt, ruik ik de lente in de bloeiende bloemen van haar te vroeg gedragen zomerjurkje"

maandag 21 maart 2016

Valentinos Ghost, Why We (USA) Hate Arabs

Valentino's Ghost: Powerful Documentary Explores How US Foreign Policy in the Middle East Drives Islamophobia at Home.
Experts ranging from Robert Fisk to John Mearsheimer and Melani McAlister explain how the U.S. media and government are the source of fear and loathing of Arabs, Muslims and Islam. 

This updated version of Valentino’s Ghost addresses four current topics that weren’t in existence at the film’s premiere in 2012, offering radically different views from those of our national narrative, addressing such questions as: were the Charlie Hebdo cartoonists engaging in cultural bullying of the weakest ethnic minority in France? Did the 2014 Israeli assault on Gaza seriously damage Israeli’s image abroad when Palestinians were able to upload phone videos of the bombings to the Internet? Are American Armed Forces’ killings and torture more barbaric that that of groups like ISIS? Is the movie American Sniper’s inherent racist viewpoint one reason for its phenomenal popularity?

donderdag 25 februari 2016

Read! Debts-Slaves, Read!



We have been mentally damaged by 
a carefully orchestrated historical amnesia, 
a state-induced stupidity,
challenging human dignity and our collective validity! 
We willingly gave up our freedom as we watch
the world through a screen with a virtual view.
The history is written by all 
and taught selectively by the few. 


The peoples history is no mystery 
if we would pick up a book 
and drops the screen.
What is seen cannot be unseen.
The weak protected by the strong 
 was the just way of our ancestors. 


and now!
We, the warriors and protectors 
became cashcows, AGENTS and debt collectors. 
As the history stays unexplored,
we walk the streets 
wielding our cellphones like swords.
Not knowing that we are being controlled
by our overlords.


As I light another rolled sigaret,
I am gonna make a bet!
We are not gonna make it 
if our only intake is what is being fed.
Because the biggest secret that is kept
is that modern slaves are not in chains
"They are in debt"  

A Shameless Worship of Heroes



by Will Durant
the many ideals which in youth gave life a meaning and radiance missing from the chilly perspectives of middle age, one at least has remained with me as bright and satisfying as ever before -- the shameless worship of heroes. In an age that would level everything and reverence nothing, I take my stand with Victorian Carlyle, and light my candles, like Mirandola before Plato's image, at the shrines of great men.
I say shameless, for I know how unfashionable it is now to acknowledge in life or history any genius loftier than ourselves. Our democratic dogma has leveled not only all voters but all leaders; we delight to show that living geniuses are only mediocrities, and that dead ones are myths.
If we may believe Mr. Wells, Caesar was a numbskull and Napoleon a fool. Since it is contrary to good manners to exalt ourselves, we achieve the same result by slyly indicating how inferior are the great men of the earth. In some of us, perhaps, it is a noble and merciless asceticism, which would root out of our hearts the last vestige of worship and adoration, lest the old gods should return and terrify us again.
For my part, I cling to this final religion, and discover in it a content and stimulus more lasting than came from the devotional ecstasies of youth. How natural it seemed to greet Rabindranath Tagore by that title which so long has been given him by his countrymen, Gurudeva – "Revered Master." For why should we stand reverent before waterfalls and mountain tops, or a summer moon on a quiet sea, and not before the highest miracle of all -- a man who is both great and good? So many of us are mere talents, clever children in the play of life, that when genius stands in our presence we can only bow down before it as an act of God, a continuance of creation. Such men are the very life-blood of history, to which politics and industry are but frame and bones.
Part cause of the dry scholasticism from which we were suffering when James Harvey Robinson summoned us to humanize our knowledge, was the conception of history as an impersonal flow of figures and "facts," in which genius played so inessential a role that histories prided themselves upon ignoring them. It was to Marx above all that this theory of history was due; it was bound up with a view of life that distrusted the exceptional man, envied superior talent, and exalted the humble as the inheritors of the earth. In the end men began to write history as if it had never been lived at all, as if no drama had ever walked through it, no comedies or tragedies of struggling or frustrated men. The vivid narratives of Gibbon and Taine gave way to ash-heaps of irrelevant erudition in which every fact was correct, documented, and dead.
No, the real history of man is not in prices and wages, nor in elections and battles, nor in the even tenor of the common man; it is in the lasting contributions made by geniuses to the sum of human civilization and culture. The history of France is not, if one may say it with all courtesy, the history of the French people; the history of those nameless men and women who tilled the soil, cobbled the shoes, cut the cloth, and peddled the goods (for these things have been done everywhere and always) -- the history of France is the record of her exceptional men and women, her inventors, scientists, statesmen, poets, artists, musicians, philosophers and saints, and of the additions which they made to the technology and wisdom, the artistry and decency, of their people and mankind. And so with every country, so with the world; its history is properly the history of its great men. What are the rest of us but willing brick and mortar in their hands, that they may make a race a little finer than ourselves? Therefore I see history not as a dreary scene of politics and carnage, but as the struggle of man -- through genius -- with the obdurate inertia of matter and the baffling mystery of mind; the struggle to understand, control and remake himself and the world.
I see men standing on the edge of knowledge, and holding the light a little farther ahead; men carving marble into forms ennobling men; men molding peoples into better instruments of greatness; men making a language of music and music out of language; men dreaming of finer lives, and living them. Here is a process of creation more vivid than in any myth, a godliness more real than in any creed.
To contemplate such men, to insinuate ourselves through study into some modest discipleship to them, to watch them at their work and warm ourselves at the fire that consumes them -- this is to recapture some of the thrill that youth gave us when we thought, at the altar or in the confessional, that we were touching or hearing God.
In that dreamy youth we believed that life was evil, and that only death could usher us into paradise. We were wrong; even now -- while we live -- we may enter it. Every great book, every work of revealing art, every record of a devoted life is a call and an open sesame to the Elysian Fields.
Too soon we extinguished the flame of our hope and our reverence. Let us change the icons, and light the candles again.

"Scientist Who Discovered GMOs Cause Tumors in Rats Wins Landmark Defamation Lawsuit in Paris"


Was French Prof. Gilles-Eric Séralini correct when he discovered that scientific feeding experiments past 90 days with GMO food and rats can cause serious health problems including tumors?
The answer to that question has been debated ever since the initial publication of his study, culminating in a republication of the study in another peer-reviewed journal that wasn’t nearly as well covered as the initial retraction was by the mainstream media.
read m0re:


"Biosafety and the 'Seralini affair' - scientific and regulatory reform are essential"



The forced retraction of a study that identified serious harm to rats fed on GMO maize and Monsanto's 'Roundup' reveals a deep and systemic corruption of science and regulation, writes Gilles-Eric Séralini. Urgent and far reaching reforms must now take place.
"Censorship on research into the risks of a technology so critically entwined with global food safety undermines the value and the credibility of science.
There is an ongoing debate on the potential health risks of the consumption of genetically modified (GM) plants containing high levels of pesticide residues.
Currently, no regulatory authority requests mandatory chronic animal feeding studies to be performed for edible GMOs and formulated pesticides. This fact is at the origin of most of the controversies. Only studies consisting of 90-day rat feeding trials have been conducted by manufacturers for GMOs.
Statistical differences in the biochemistry of treated rats versus controls may represent the initial signs of long-term pathologies, possibly explained at least in part by pesticide residues in the GM feed." read more:

"The Case"

Seralini’s team wins defamation and forgery court cases on GMO and pesticide research
On 25 November 2015, the High Court of Paris indicted Marc Fellous, former chairman of France’s Biomolecular Engineering Commission, for “forgery” and “the use of forgery”, in a libel trial that he lost to Prof Gilles-Eric Séralini. The Biomolecular Engineering Commission has authorised many GM crops for consumption.
The details of the case have not yet been publicly released but a source close to the case told GMWatch that Fellous had used or copied the signature of a scientist without his agreement to argue that Séralini and his co-researchers were wrong in their reassessment of Monsanto studies.
The Séralini team’s re-assessment reported finding signs of toxicity in the raw data from Monsanto’s own rat feeding studies with GM maize.
The sentence against Fellous has not yet been passed and is expected in June 2016.
Defamation case
The latest ruling marks a second court victory for Séralini’s team.
In September 2012, an article written by Jean-Claude Jaillette in Marianne magazine said that “researchers around the world” had voiced “harsh words” about the research of Séralini and his team on the toxic effects of a GMO and Roundup over a long term period – research that was supported by the independent organisation CRIIGEN. The journalist wrote of a “scientific fraud in which the methodology served to reinforce pre-determined results”.
Séralini, his team, and CRIIGEN challenged this allegation in a defamation lawsuit. They were assisted by the notaries Bernard Dartevelle and Cindy Gay.
On 6 November 2015, after a criminal investigation lasting three years, the 17th Criminal Chamber of the High Court of Paris passed sentence. Marianne magazine and its journalist were fined for public defamation of a public official and public defamation of the researchers and of CRIIGEN, which is chaired by Dr Joel Spiroux de Vendômois.
The trial demonstrated that the original author of the fraud accusation, prior to Marianne, was the American lobbyist Henry I. Miller in Forbes magazine.
Miller had previously lobbied to discredit research linking tobacco to cancer and heart disease on behalf of the tobacco industry. Since then he has tried to do the same in support of GMOs and pesticides, through defamation.
The long-term toxicity study by Séralini’s team was republished after the journal Food and Chemical Toxicology retracted it under pressure from lobbyists. Séralini’s team has just published a summary of the toxic effects of Roundup below regulatory thresholds. read m0re:

To get the research paper in question:

and enter:
10.1186/s12302-014-0014-5
in the search engine
the man behind the paper has his own website:

check it out!


Gilles-Éric Séralini (born 23 August 1960) is a French molecular biologist, political advisor and activist on genetically modified organisms and foods. He is of Algerian-French origin. Séralini has been a professor of molecular biology at the University of Caen since 1991, and is president and chairman of the board of CRIIGEN

In het hart van de onderdrukte


En weet je, 
dit vind ik pas erg,
een spiritueel leider hoort onder de mensen te zijn. 
niet afgesloten op berg!
Ik heb niks met boeddha's die bang zijn voor de menigte!
 
Ik heb niks met de yogi's en hun uitgekauwde meningen!
Ik sta achter de rebel, die met honger in zijn maag de regering uitdaagt!
Ik sta achter de stenengooier die de tot op de tand gewapende soldaten uitdaagt!
Ik sta achter de klasse verrader,
Achter de waarheidsvinders.
Achter zij die strijden voor de toekomst. 
Zij die strijden voor onze kinders. 
Zij strijden uit noodzaak, 
Niet omdat ze het willen, 
maar omdat het moet!
Want niemand doet het voor ons.
Niet onze leiders, niet onze regering.
Geen enkele politieke groep.
Want de wereld op dit moment is als een monopoly spel
Waar, 
voordat we starten, 
Alle straten zijn gekocht, 
vol met huizen en hotels.
en wat zijn wij, 
Wij zijn een speelstuk.
We verdienen als we langs start komen 
of met vrij parkeren door een beetje geluk.
maar gaan uiteindelijk failliet en dood 
terwijl we worden leeg geplukt.
Kapitalisme , oorlog en democratie 
Allemaal gebouwd op een leugen. 
Door een rijke elitaire groep 
van mensen die niet deugen. 
Voor hen levenslang ,de guillotine of de galg! 
Want de wereld van wolven in schaapskleren is waar ik van walg.
Vrijheid,
Alleen voor zij die de hekken respecteren.
Dat is geen vrijheid, 
Maar slavernij door dit te accepteren
Zoals de winter in zijn hart de lente heeft.
Zo weet ik dat in het hart van de onderdrukte man vrijheid leeft!
en ik eindig met woorden die ik van Pablo Neruda heb genomen 
"Je kunt alle bloemen afsnijden maar je kunt de Lente niet voorkomen"

donderdag 18 februari 2016

Europe is Built on Corpses and Plunder



(Speech given in Rome at the Italian Parliament on January 29, 2016)
***
Friends and Comrades, it is a great honor to be standing here – at the Chamber of Deputies of the Italian Parliament.
***
One year ago I was driving through the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon, monitoring the situation in the refugee camps there. Winter was approaching and the mountains on the Lebanese–Syrian border were covered by snow. It was cold, very cold.
Some 20 minutes, after leaving Baalbek, I spotted an extremely humble makeshift refugee camp, growing literally from the road, in the middle of nowhere.
I stopped. Together with my interpreter, I walked inside and engaged several people in conversation.
The situation was desperate. Children were hungry and could not register for schools through the UNHCR or through the Lebanese government, which, by that time, had almost collapsed. Many electronic food cards that were issued to the migrants did not function. Work permits were not offered, and without proper paperwork, local social services could not be used. In brief: a total disaster.
I was told that in this area, some Syrian migrants had already been starving.
This was Bekaa Valley, a tough place to start with, and full of ancient traditions, clans, gangs and narcotic-business. Refugees were expected to keep their heads down, or else…
Before I left, two little girls, two sisters, approached me. Both had swollen bellies, suffering from malnutrition. Both were dressed in rugs. Both looked deprived.
But after spotting my cameras, they were mesmerized, smiling at me, showing tongues, laughing.
Their country was in ruins, their future uncertain.
But these were just two little girls in the middle of the mountains, two girls excited about each and every little detail of life. Such innocence! Such hope! People are people, and children are children, everywhere, even during wars.
Unfortunately, I have witnessed too many of them; too many wars. Too many barbarities performed by NATO, by the Empire, by the United States and Europe.
Later, working on the Greek island of Kos and in Calais in France, I kept thinking about those two girls, again and again.
The West (or call it NATO, or anything you like – we all know what I mean!) has, in the most cynical manner, destabilized and destroyed the entire Middle East. As it has in virtually all the continents of the world, it ruined tremendous cultures, plundered all it could put its hands on, turned proud people into slaves. Libya and Iraq are no more! I can testify, as I work all over the Middle East.
And then the West enclosed itself into its gold-plated bunker, slowly and disgustingly digesting its booty!
How many refugees are there that Europe says: “it cannot accept”? 1 million? Tiny, miniscule Lebanon has 2 million, and it is coping; badly but coping!
And Lebanon did not destroy Syria, Libya, Afghanistan or Iraq.
You know how it all feels like? Like observing a woman who was gang-raped, whose husband was murdered in front of her own eyes, and whose beautiful house was looted. Now this woman, just in order to save her starving children from the rubbles, is forced to go to Europe, to the rapists and thieves who destroyed her life, asking for shelter and food. And they spit into her face! They say: “It is too much for us, too difficult to accommodate you and others like you! Woman, you came to take advantage of us. You came to have a better life at our expense!”
This is how it looks from the outside. This is how I see it.
And I want to puke. But there is no time… One has to work, day and night, to stop this madness.
The West, of course including Europe, is too hardened by its own crimes, too cynical, and too unrepentant.
It remains blind, because it simply does not pay to see!
***
There is no Left Wing in Europe, anymore. Not the Left as we understand the term in Cuba and other revolutionary nations.
To us, true left means “Internationalism”, solidarity!
True left is global, egalitarian, and color-blind.
European so-called Left is only concerned with the benefits of its own citizens. It does not care at all where the funds are coming from.
As long as French, Greek, Spanish or Italian farmers get their subsidies and perks, who cares that agriculture in Africa or Asia gets thoroughly ruined. The most important is that European farmers could drive their latest BMW’s, for producing something or not producing anything at all.
I saw absolutely grotesque concepts implemented in countries like Senegal, and other former French colonies: heavily subsidized French food produce flooded West Africa, supermarkets opened, local production collapsed. Then the prices spiked to 2-3 times higher levels than those in Paris. And so, in Senegal where incomes are perhaps only 10% of those in France, a yoghurt costs 3 times more than in Monoprix.
Who pays for those 35-hour workweeks? Who pays for socialized medical care and free education in the European Union? Definitely not the Europeans themselves! Most of the funds used to come from the colonies, from that unimaginable plunder of the world performed by the West.
Colonialism and imperialism are still there, but they often changed forms, although the toll on people in non-white countries continues to be the same.
The Belgian King Leopold II and his cohorts, in what is now Congo, massacred 10 million people, at the beginning of the 20th Century. Between 1995 and now, the West plundered the Democratic Republic of Congo once again, mercilessly, by using its closest allies in Africa – Rwanda, Uganda and Kenya. Again, between 7 and 10 million people died there, in just 20 years, and these are not some inflated numbers, these are numbers provided by the United Nations and its reports, including the so-called “Mapping Report”. All that horror, only so the West could have access to coltan (used in our mobile phones), to uranium, and other strategic materials. I compiled the evidence in my feature documentary film “Rwanda Gambit”.
All those ruined lives and countries, so that European citizens could have their benefits, long vacations, and social services.
When I discussed the issue with my friend, an Italian filmmaker from Naples, he snapped at me: “We don’t want to be like the Chinese. We don’t want to work hard like them!”
I replied: “Then live within your means! Do not allow your corporations and governments to massacre tens of millions of people, so that the companies could have their insane profits, and citizens those outrageous benefits.”
Recently, in Thailand, I overheard a group of unemployed Spaniards laughing about having a vacation in Southeast Asia, paid for by their unemployment benefits.
I know many countries, dependencies of the West, where losing one’s job is synonymous to a death sentence! But we are asked to feel sorry for Spaniards, Italians and Greeks. We are expected to see them as victims.
***
I am saddened to say, but it is not only the United States, but also Europe, which is totally, blissfully ignorant about its role in the world, and about the harm, about the horrors that it is spreading all over our Planet.
This discovery shocked me so much, that I spent 4 years crisscrossing the world, compiling the evidence and testimonies that illustrate the colonialist, neo-colonialist and imperialist legacy of the West, as well as the current neo-colonialist barbarities. The book is 840-pages long and it is called “Exposing Lies Of The Empire”. I hope, one day, it will be available in the Italian language!
The book has been receiving enthusiastic reception, but for me, this thick volume is not the end. Now I am compiling the second installment. The topic is just too enormous. The crimes, genocides, holocausts committed by the West on the people of our Planet, are too enormous.
Everything is linked to them! The entire arrangement of the world uses them as pillars.
In our book “On Western Terrorism – From Hiroshima to Drone Warfare”, written together with my friend Noam Chomsky, I was asked whether the Europeans actually realize what they have done to the world, during the last centuries.
(Just a side note – this book is now available in the Italian language “Terrorismo Occidentale”).
I replied to Noam: “They definitely don’t!”
And I repeat here, again: most of them, the great majority of them, do not realize it! They don’t want to see, to admit, that their opera houses, hospitals, museums, parks and promenades, are all constructed on the corpses of those who were robbed of everything: from Latin America and its open veins, to Asia and Africa. Slavery, unimaginable extermination campaigns, tremendous lists of horrors!
Before Noam and I began our discussion, I spent some time with several top statisticians, and our conclusion was chilling: directly or indirectly, the West massacred between 40 and 50 million people, between the Hiroshima A-bomb explosion, and the time of my long dialogue with Noam – in 2012.
The number of people, who were murdered throughout history, directly or indirectly, by European empires, all over the world, can only be calculated in hundreds of millions, and one of my statistician friends believes that the total accumulative number actually exceeds 1 billion.
***
When I was recently speaking at the China Academy of Social Sciences in Beijing, and later in Moscow, having been invited by Russian philosophers and by several members of the Russian Academy of Science, I publicly declared that I am fundamentally against “free medical care and free education in Europe”.
When asked “why?” I explained that the cost is too high, and those robbed and destroyed people, all over the world, are almost exclusively expected to cover it.
But I continued: “I am totally, decisively, supportive of universal free medical care, education and essential social benefits. Or as we say in Cuba: everyone dances, or nobody does!”
Of course I also can tolerate and support free medical care, education and benefits in those countries that do not plunder the world, like Cuba, China, Venezuela, Bolivia, South Africa or Ecuador.
***
Not only the West refuses to face its responsibility for, by now, the almost absolute total destruction of the world, it is also using all sorts of smoke screens and propaganda tactics to divert the attention of the people; it is spreading nihilist economic concepts, propaganda and outright lies.
It is using education as a weapon, offering scholarships to children of elites in the countries it is robbing and controlling. After being indoctrinated, they return home and continue violating their own countries on behalf of the United States and Europe.
And so the vicious cycle continues!
I encountered so many grotesque moments, when for instance, an Indonesian upper class family returning from its vacation in Holland, begins a long litany, about how great are the theaters, trains, museums and public spaces in Netherlands, compared to those in Indonesia.
Of course they are! All built from centuries of Dutch plunder of Indonesia, like those Spanish cathedrals stuffed with gold, growing from corpses.
As Noam Chomsky often says: “not to see all this truly takes great discipline!”
***
The brutality of the Western Empire is unmatchable. Its cynicism is monumental!
Look at those so-called “terrorists” in Muslim countries, scarecrows that Western governments and media keep waving in front of our eyes!
Islamic culture is greatly socialist and socially oriented. After World War II, secular, socialist, revolutionary and anti-Western governments ruled the most important Muslim nations: Egypt, Iran and Indonesia.
Within two decades, the West overthrew them all, implementing fascist regimes.
It then invented the Mujahideen and injected them into Afghanistan, in order to finish with the Soviet Union.
And once it felt the need for some monumental enemy to replace Communism, it manufactured and then armed, trained and educated groups like al-Qaida, al-Nusra and ISIS.
This move served two important goals: to justify astronomical military and intelligence budgets, and to portray the Western/Christian civilization as “culturally superior”, fighting “Arab terrorist monsters”.
Of course, the great majority of the people in Europe and North America are so indoctrinated, intellectually self-righteous and defunct, that they remain blind when faced with those Machiavellian pirouettes.
For the European public, there are plenty of “good reasons” to stick to those inherently racist beliefs, and to protectionism. There are even better reasons for hiding those millions of heads in the sand!
And so it goes.
***
I am here, in Italy, and today I do not want to discuss the United States, Israel, or other colonies and client states of the West. We can do it some other time, if I am invited back.
I spoke about Europe.
And I spoke about those two Syrian girls I met in Lebanon.
They are your responsibility, too, Italy! They suffer from malnutrition because your part of the world is ruining their country. It is because your country is a member of NATO, and NATO is behaving like a fascist thug with some clear mafia behavioral patterns.
I know you have heart!
I grew up on you films, on Fellini and de Sica, Rossellini, Antonioni and others. I greatly admire your poetry and music. They had tremendous influence on my work, and on how I see the world.
But your heart, it seems, lately goes only to your own people. It is not an internationalist heart. It does not believe that all people are equal.
I came here to say this, because not too many people dare to.
I came here because I still care for your country.
But as a determined socialist realist, I care about Italy as it “could and should be”, not “as it is” at this moment.
Andre Vltchek is a philosopher, novelist, filmmaker and investigative journalist. He covered wars and conflicts in dozens of countries. His latest books are: “Exposing Lies Of The Empire” and Fighting Against Western Imperialism.Discussion with Noam Chomsky: On Western TerrorismPoint of No Return is his critically acclaimed political novel. Oceania – a book on Western imperialism in the South Pacific. His provocative book about Indonesia: “Indonesia – The Archipelago of Fear”. Andre is making films for teleSUR and Press TV. After living for many years in Latin America and Oceania, Vltchek presently resides and works in East Asia and the Middle East. He can be reached through his website or his Twitter.