Tell~A~Vision = Why Not Try Love Again?
Pussy Riot member begins hunger strike
Maria Alyokhina starts protest after being refused permission to attend parole hearing
Miriam Elder in Moscow, guardian.co.uk, Wednesday 22 May 2013 09.05 EDT, Article Source
The Pussy Riot member Maria Alyokhina in court in Moscow last year, where she was
sentenced to two years in prison. Photograph: Natalia Kolesnikova/AFP/Getty ImagesA jailed member of the anti-Kremlin punk band Pussy Riot has begun a hunger strike to protest at a court decision to refuse her permission to attend her own parole hearing.
Maria Alyokhina, 24, also forbade her lawyers from further representing her during the parole hearing, becoming the most high-profile prisoner to reject taking part in a justice system widely criticised as absurd.
A regional court in Berezniki, a small city in the Urals region of Perm where Alyokhina's prison colony is situated, had denied the activist the right to appear at her parole hearing on Wednesday. She appeared via videolink, and was required to file all motions by fax, requiring regular breaks in the hearing.
At the end of the day-long hearing, she announced she would start a hunger strike. The parole hearing was due to continue on Thursday.
"Let the troika sitting here -- the judge, the prosecutor and the colony employee -- decide my fate," Alyokhina said at the close of Wednesday's proceedings, referring to the Soviet-era three-person commissions that issued sentences to perceived enemies without a trial.
Alyokhina and two of her bandmates, Nadezhda Tolokonnikova and Yekaterina Samutsevich, were sentenced to two years in prison last year after being found guilty of "hooliganism motivated by religious hatred" for performing a punk anthem criticising Vladimir Putin inside a Moscow cathedral.
Samutsevich's sentence was later suspended. Tolokonnikova was denied parole last month. She and Alyokhina are due to be released in March next year.
In a recent letter to Radio Svoboda, Alyokhina wrote: "Soon I'll appear before the parole commission which, of course, will decide that it's impossible to let such a dangerous person as myself out into society. This is all boring and predictable."
The case against Pussy Riot signalled the start of a widespread crackdown on the anti-Putin opposition, and boosted the profile of the powerful Russian Orthodox church.
On Tuesday, the Duma approved a bill that would impose jail terms for "offending religious feelings". It must now pass a formal third reading and be signed into law by Putin. Critics fear it will add to the arsenal of new laws being used to crack down on dissent.
Paul McCartney writes to Russian leaders
over treatment of Pussy RiotFormer Beatle lauds country's 'great tradition of fair-mindedness' in handwritten letters pleading for the release of jailed band members
Dan Martin, guardian.co.uk, Thursday 23 May 2013 05.57 EDT, Article Source
We can work it out ... Paul McCartney performs in Orlando, US, on 18 May, during
the first US concert of his Out There tour. Photograph: John Raoux/APPaul McCartney has protested to the Russian government about the treatment of the members of Pussy Riot, after it emerged Maria Alyokhina has gone on hunger strike in prison after being refused the right to attend her own parole hearing.
Now McCartney has written to Russian officials, urging them to reconsider the jailing of Alyokhina and bandmate Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, asking them to remember the country's "great tradition of fair-mindedness". In the letter concerning Alyokhina, McCartney writes: "My personal belief is that further incarceration for Maria will be harmful for her and the situation as a whole, which, of course, is being watched by people all over the world. In the great tradition of fair-mindedness which the Russian people (many of whom are my friends) are famous for, I believe that you granting this request would send a very positive message to all the people who have followed this case."
In a separate letter regarding Tolokonnikova, who last month was denied parole, he writes: "I have had a long relationship with the Russian people, and, with this in mind, I am making the following request in a spirit of friendship for my many Russian acquaintances who, like me, believe in treating people -- all people -- with compassion and kindness."
Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina were jailed for two years in August 2012 for breach of the public order motivated by religious hatred after staging their now infamous "punk prayer" protest against Vladimir Putin in Moscow's Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in February 2012. A third woman, Yekaterina Samutsevich, was released last October after being given a suspended sentence.
Facebook's violently sexist pages
are an opportunity for feministsFacebook both reflects our misogynistic society and is a conduit to change it -- through campaigns such as Twitter's #FBrape
[Ed Note: This article makes one wonder about Mark Zuckerberg's mindset or possible ??? perverted ??? mental state.]
Emer O'Toole, guardian.co.uk, Thursday 23 May 2013 07.00 EDT, Article Source
'In spite of complaint after complaint, Facebook continues to deem content encouraging
violence against women inoffensive.' Photograph: dpa picture alliance/Alamy
There's all sorts of stuff wrong with capitalism, but one thing I'd miss if I woke up in an economic utopia tomorrow is a good boycott. Offended by something racist, homophobic, classist or sexist about a company's product or advertising? Boycott. Tell the company why you're boycotting. Encourage others to boycott. If enough people agree with you, companies change the way they behave. Yay! If only there were as straightforward a way to react to ALL the racist, homophobic, classist, sexist arsery one encounters daily. But it's hard to boycott society (though God knows there are times I try).
Then there's Facebook. Facebook is a special case. On the one hand, it's a profit-driven corporation, but on the other, it's a corporation that makes its profits through provision of a platform for people's interests, beliefs and social habits. And when it stops being that platform, it stops making money. Sadly, we live in a society in which many people are interested in rape jokes, believe violence against women is funny and habitually consume cultural products that depict women as glossy sex things. And so, Facebook is full of pages and groups that graphically depict and explicitly condone violence against women.
As Tuesday's open letter to Facebook on behalf of more than 65 gender equality groups points out, Facebook routinely removes content that is violently racist, homophobic or Islamophobic. The company -- quite rightly -- would ban a group that showed two gay people lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs with a caption like, "Next time, don't hold hands". While it'll approve content that condones tying women up and raping them, it certainly wouldn't tolerate an equally "humorous" page that riffed on the lynching of black people.
In spite of complaint after complaint, Facebook continues to deem content encouraging violence against women inoffensive. When journalists publicise a particularly indefensible page (usually a page that Facebook has already been made aware of by users), the company tends to act by shutting down that particular page. Without protocols in place to combat gender hate speech, however, this is pointless.
The question that arises is why Facebook continues to allow this kind of content to be published. It emits unconvincing chirps about being anti-censorship, but trips itself up by moderating, as pornographic, images of women breastfeeding, or body-positive pictures of post-mastectomy female torsos. This blogpost cuts wittily to the heart of the issue. The author lifts a typical porny pic from another Facebook page, Photoshops in a smattering of pubic hair, and posts it to her own group. Result? Overnight decision -- a 30-day ban.
So, the censorship explanation falls flat as a beautifully tattooed post-mastectomy chest, and the question remains: why is Facebook so committed to supporting gender hate speech? One possible explanation is that its company culture has naturalised sexist norms to the point where its members truly believe, along with the creators and users of pages such as Raping Your Girlfriend, that violently misogynistic content is acceptable and funny. At base, there's little difference between classing these pages as inoffensive humour and saying: "Lighten up babe -- some women can take a joke. Do you know what would sort you out? A good raping -- ha ha."
But Facebook has a brand and has money to make. The #FBrape Twitter campaign is hitting where it hurts, by tweeting big advertisers with screengrabs of their carefully cultivated logos floating alongside pages entitled things such as What's 10 Inches Long and Makes Girls Have Sex With Me -- My Knife! So far, many companies have responded quickly and publicly by condemning the content and complaining to Facebook about it. According to Laura Bates of Everyday Sexism, the #FBrape campaign's next challenge must be making these advertisers aware of the history of this issue -- of how policy change, rather than moderation of publicised, isolated incidents -- is needed.
The #FBrape campaign holds a mirror up to a pervasive element of our culture that many either fail to acknowledge or aggressively insist that feminists laugh off. Officially, violent misogyny is not condoned, and most corporations won't endanger their brands by being associated with it. Unofficially, violent misogyny is still very much de rigueur. Facebook is a conduit between these official and unofficial attitudes to women and, as such, provides an opportunity for radical intervention. Paradoxically, as a profit-driven organisation that must reflect the values of our sexist society, Facebook offers gender activists a vital chance to confront, contest and change permissive attitudes to violence against women.
Keystone pipeline: House votes to
bypass Obama for approvalRepresentatives approve bill declaring that controversial oil pipeline from Canada does not need president's permission
[Ed. Note: Voters should be asking how much money House Representative Members received from BIG OIL to approve this bill; remembering ... Congress has an approval rating lower than the percentage of rat feces tolerated by the FDA in United States food supply.]
Suzanne Goldenberg, US environment correspondent, guardian.co.uk, 23 May 2013 01.20 EDT, Article Source
Part of the route for the Keystone pipeline in Nebraska. Photograph: Nati Harnik/APCongress has voted to shut Barack Obama out of the biggest environmental decision of his presidency -- the fate of the Keystone XL tar sands pipeline -- and claimed the authority to approve the project.
The vote to approve the pipeline, which passed 241-175 in the Republican-controlled house, was pure political theatre.
The measure would dispense with additional environmental reviews of the pipeline and would allow only 60 days for legal challenges.
The bill was unlikely to pass in the Senate and the White House said on Tuesday it would veto any measure that attempted to bypass the current permit process.
But the vote -- the seventh time Republicans in Congress have voted to speed up or approve Keystone -- keeps up the pressure on Obama to approve the project.
It also gave Republicans an opening to opine about high prices at the pump ahead of the Memorial Day holiday, when many people go away for the weekend.
All but one Republican member of Congress voted in favour of the bill. In several hours of debate Republicans lined up to berate the Obama administration for taking so long to render a decision on the pipeline.
"Five years! Five years and still no decision. What does five years mean? Well, world war two, where we mobilised America," Ted Poe, a Texas congressman, said from the house floor on Wednesday.
"We went off to war in less than five years. But yet we can't get a decision out of the White House for more than five years on this project. Are you kidding me?"
Supporters of the pipeline claim it will create jobs and help America become more energy independent.
Environmental campaigners have framed the decision on the Keystone as a test of Obama's commitment to act on climate change and live up to the bold promises he made at the start of his second term.
Crude from the Alberta tar sands is far more carbon intensive than conventional oils. Canadian scientists warned earlier this month that expanding production from the tar sands would lock the planet on course for catastrophic climate change.
But the White House has given no indication it will reject the project and Organising for Action, the grassroots group set up to support Obama's agenda, has pointedly stayed neutral on Keystone XL.
The Democratic party position on the pipeline has also been mixed.
Nineteen Democrats voted to cut Obama out of the decision and approve the pipeline. That was far fewer than the numbers that voted in favour of some of the Republicans' earlier Keystone bills and campaigners claimed it as a victory.
"Keystone proponents are losing momentum," Gene Karpinski, the president of the League of Conservation Voters, said in a statement. "The final decision remains right where it's been all along -- with President Obama."
Another Reason Why Bush Administration Baby Killers and the People Who Supported Them Should Be In Jail:
New light shed on US government's
extraordinary rendition programmeOnline project uncovers details of way in which CIA carried out kidnaps and secret detentions following September 11 attacks
• The Rendition Project interactive
• CIA rendition flights explainedIan Cobain and James Ball, guardian.co.uk, Wednesday 22 May 2013 07.01 EDT, Article Source
Guantánamo Bay, Cuba. Abu Faraj al-Libi, one of the detainees there, was allegedly
seized in Pakistan in 2005, flown to Afghanistan, switched to another aircraft
and taken to the US base via Romania. Photograph: Mark Wilson/GettyA groundbreaking research project has mapped the US government's global kidnap and secret detention programme, shedding unprecedented light on one of the most controversial secret operations of recent years.
The interactive online project – by two British universities and a legal charity – has uncovered new details of the way in which the so-called extraordinary rendition programme operated for years in the wake of the September 11 attacks, and the techniques used by the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to avoid detection in the face of growing public concern.
The Rendition Project website is intended to serve as a research tool that not only collates all the publicly available data about the programme, but can continue to be updated as further information comes to light.
Data already collated shows the full extent of the UK's logistical support for the programme: aircraft associated with rendition operations landed at British airports more than 1,600 times.
Although no detainees are known to have been aboard the aircraft while they were landing in the UK, the CIA was able to refuel during operations that involved some of the most notorious renditions of the post-September 11 years, including one in which two men were kidnapped in Sweden and flown to Egypt, where they suffered years of torture, and others that involved detainees being flown to and from a secret prison in Romania.
The database also tracks rendition flights into and out of Diego Garcia, in the Chagos Islands, and suggests that flight crews enjoyed rest-and-recreation stopovers on the Turks and Caicos Islands. Both are British overseas territories.
The Rendition Project is the result of three years of work, funded by the UK taxpayer through the Economic and Social Research Council, by Ruth Blakeley, a senior lecturer at the University of Kent, and Sam Raphael, a senior lecturer at Kingston University, working with Crofton Black, an investigator with the legal charity Reprieve.
"By bringing together a vast collection of documents and data, the Rendition Project publishes the most detailed picture to date of the scale, operation and evolution of the global system of rendition and secret detention in the so-called war on terror," said Blakeley.
Raphael said: "The database makes a major contribution to efforts to track CIA rendition flights, and provides the clearest picture so far of what was going on. It also serves as an important tool for investigators, journalists and lawyers to delve into in more detail."
Black added: "The Rendition Project lays bare the inner workings of the logistics network underlying the US government's secret prison programme. It's the most accurate and comprehensive resource so far published."
The data includes details on 11,006 flights by aeroplanes linked to the CIA's rendition programme since 2002. Of those, 1,556 flights are classed as confirmed or suspected rendition flights, or flagged as "suspicious", depending on the strength of the supporting evidence surrounding each.
The researchers have also confirmed 20 "dummy" flights within the data: flight paths logged with air traffic controllers, but never taken. Instead, the planes took a different route to different airports along the way, to pick up or drop off a detainee. About a dozen more flight paths are marked as possible dummy flights.
The website also weaves together first-hand testimony of detainees of their mistreatment within the secret prisons; the layout and conditions of the facilities; the movements of detainees across the globe; and documents that detail outsourcing to corporations that offered logistical support, from flights to catering and hotel reservations. In some cases, it is unclear whether the airline companies would have been aware of the purpose of the flights.
The project also brings to light new information on the methods used to avoid detection of rendition flights, particularly as journalists became aware of the programme. The project highlights "tarmac transfers" – occasions on which two planes involved in rendition met on remote airfields. The researchers believe these occasions were used to transfer detainees from one plane to another, making their rendition route far more difficult to track.
Among the prisoners who appear to have been switched from one aircraft to another in this way is Abu Faraj al-Libi, who is currently being held at the Guantánamo detention camp in Cuba. After being captured in Pakistan in May 2005, he appears to have been flown to Afghanistan, where he was switched to another aircraft and taken to Bucharest.
ARPSN ~ Amateur Radio Public Seismic Network
ARPSN Seismic Heliplots ~ Seismic Activity and Cobb [Mountain] Weather
Boptime with Even Steven + The Legends of Wilmington Jazz
Saturday: 6 AM Eastern time, 3 AM Pacific time:
MP3 Stream ~ Low 24K ~ High 128K ~ Real Audio ~ Low 24K ~ High 128K ~ Windows ~ Low 24K ~ High 128K
Mike Wilhelm ~ Charlatans, Flamin' Groovies, Loose Gravel, and more
Podcast ~ MP3 music page
Rubbermaid ~ Women's Band from North Carolina
Autumn Fenders ~ 1969 Photo Album by Ralph Davis
Ira Cohen ~ Poet/Artist/Film Maker
John Draper ~ Captain Crunch
Karl Cohen ~ Association International du Film d'Animation-SF Newsletter
ASIFA~SF NEWSLETTER
Association International du Film d'Animation
(International Animated Film Association)
May 2013In this issue highlights include two articles on:
THE GRAND OPENING OF THE NEW EXPLORATORIUM & ANIMATION AT THE SF INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL
AT ASIFA-SF'S CAREERS IN ANIMATION EVENT THE PANEL WAS REALISTIC BUT NOT PESSIMISTIC ABOUT THE CURRENT STATE OF THE INDUSTRY
DISNEY IS LAYING OFF PEOPLE AT FORMER LUCAS OWNED COMPANIES & TIPPETT HAS LAID-OFF 40% OF THEIR STAFF ~ ANOTHER REASON WHY U.S. PRODUCED FEATURES ARE BEING DONE ABROAD
ASIFA-SF members are invited Tues May 7th 7:00-8:30, TOM SITO, BOOK SIGNING AT THE CARTOON ART MUSEUM
9th EDITION OF THE FETE DE L'ANIM IN TOURCOING AND LILLE, FRANCE by Nancy Denney-Phelps
ANIMA - THE BRUSSELS ANIMATION FESTIVAL FEBRUARY 8 THROUGH 17 2013 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM by Nancy Denny-Phelps
Keith Lampe ~ Co-Founder of YIPPIE and Progressive Activist Groups + Video Channel
Alert! Government Orders Youtube to Censor March
on Monsanto, D.C. & Protest VideosGoogle and YouTube Attack Freedom of Speech
Monsanto Zombies ???Corporate Cyberbully Google, via Government orders, is attacking freedom of speech on the world wide web by censoring YouTube; making YouTube just as evil as Google.
Bing Source: http://www.bing.com/search?q=Government+Orders
Yahoo Source: http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=Government+Orders
Why Is This Happening?
Supreme Court to democracy: Drop deadThe Supreme Court ruled against a 76-year-old Indiana farmer who had taken on Monsanto in a patent dispute over a genetically modified soybean seed.
Bing News Source: http://www.bing.com/news/search?q ... Monsanto+farmer
Yahoo News Source: http://news.search.yahoo.com/search?... Monsanto+farmer
FWIW
In the following article: Denialist Creed ~ Stupid Activists ~ While You Were Callng One Another Moron, We Took Over the World, about 1/3 down the page, it says:
Don't you need food?
No one seems to consider that we have the power to put tomato growers in prison.
We can pass laws that prohibit gardens, and then make up some scientific reason why you may only buy food from our sources.
If someone sees you growing tomatoes, they will report you to us, and then we will have you in our fields, working for us.
[snip]
You cannot hurt us, find us, or even imagine what we are up to. I am throwing you these few crumbs only so that you may, if you have a little good sense, obey and follow our orders.
Paul Krassner ~ The Realist/Writer/Comic/Investigative Satirist
Masturbate~A~Thon
by Paul Krassner, @ http://www.alternet.org/
Did you know that May is National Masturbation Month? It was originally declared in 1995 by Good Vibrations--a San Francisco shop specializing in sex toys, erotic books and adult videos--after Surgeon General Dr. Joycelyn Elders was fired by Bill Clinton for responding to a question about masturbation at a UN conference, "I think that is part of human sexuality, and perhaps it should be taught" in the context of sex education classes. Ironically, the president never had intercourse with Monica Lewinsky, but rather, she testified, after she performed incomplete fellatio, he would masturbate into the sink in the Oval Office bathroom, not to mention ejaculating onto her blue dress.
As National Masturbation Month evolved, Good Vibrations added aspects such as the Masturbation Hall of Fame, lists of euphemisms for masturbation and places to do it, and eventually, in 2000, the Masturbate-a-thon was launched by the store's staff sexologist, Dr. Carol Queen and Robert, her life partner and co-founder of the Center for Sex & Culture. In 2012, Carol's favorite moment occurred at the "Greatest Distance Ejaculated" competition when challenger Punk Nine broke the record by shooting his semen 13 feet. He had practiced by ejaculating into the Pacific Ocean.
"There was also a female contestant," Carol informed me, "and she did not go quite as far, but that might be because so much of her [squirting] went up in the air. Her boyfriend compared her to the Bellagio fountain, which is certainly a romantic and flattering thing to say to a lady."
In 2011, because the Center for Sex & Culture was moving to a new location and there wasn't as much space for the Masturbate-a-thon, Carol announced, "We are inviting women to attend on Saturday evening, plus couples. We'll have part of the room blocked off for women only, and those who want to can also mingle with the couples. On Sunday afternoon, a men-only area will share the room with a men-plus-couples area. What about trans-identified folks? Please be welcome at either or both. If space allows, a voyeur section may also be included."
At a previous Masturbate-a-thon, which lasted from 10 a.m. to midnight. the "Longest Time Spent Masturbating" champion, Masonobu Sato, who flew in from Japan for the occasion, also achieved a world record, jerking off for over 9 hours. "The then-current record-holder was there to defend his title," Carol observed, "and that guy did a lot of Tantra, so he was a fierce opponent."
However, in view of "GIF porn"--online compressed images in 5-second video looped-clips--who knows, in the age of shrinking attention span, maybe this year the Masturbate-a-thon will feature the "Shortest Time Spent Masturbating" competition. Suddenly, premature ejaculations have become something to be proud of. Just try not to come on your iPhone while you're driving, or Siri will scold you.
Pornography has always served as "Masturbation Helper." During the trial of fertilizer salesman Scott Peterson, the prosecutor presented evidence that, three weeks after Peterson's wife Laci disappeared, he added a couple of hard-core porn channels to the programming on his satellite dish. Defense attorney Mark Geragos called this "as great a form of character assassination as I don't know what," although his client was on trial for the murder of his wife and their unborn child.
Gonzo sex writer and educator Theresa Reed, also known as Darklady, organized and promoted the first Masturbate-a-thon in Portland, Oregon. Her invitation stated: "Our special location will be revealed when you join the elite Benevolent Society of Masturbators. Come dressed erotically and patriotically." The party had a patriotic theme, "Masturbate Your Way to Freedom." The logo was an American Eagle clutching a vibrator and a tube of lube.
The event--benefiting the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom, the Center for Sex & Culture, and Planned Parenthood--featured free food and drinks, condoms and lubrication, DJs and live bands, strippers and porn stars, door prizes and streaming video on the Internet. The Thrill-Hammer Orgazmatron machine provided participants with a popular competition. The woman who rode it the longest became the winner. She was crowned Miss Masturbate-a-Thon and presented with a beautiful tiara, matching the afterglow of multiple orgasms galore--yet another competition.
"We held the party at the wonderfully pro-sex space at Ascension Dungeon," Darklady told me, "and had some of the most agreeable and competent security folks I've had the privilege to work with. I was very impressed by the enthusiastic turn-out and the innovating things people did. One man brought a pyramid-like sex swing. Local cable host Harry Lime came along with his camera crew to videotape the Thrill-Hammer fun, and people flocked to both the camera-friendly and camera-free rooms. We had no unpleasant incidents and everyone seemed to have a great time."
The main room was masturbation-free. Beyond that was a large open space with with the Orgazmatron. "Thrill-Hammer excitement will be broadcast live on the Internet," Darklady declared, "but the shy and saucy can protect their identity and still get a good internal massage by wearing one of the lovely masks generously donated by Bad Attitude. A modesty screen will also shield the especially shy from view. Please limit yourself to masturbation as this is, after all, a celebration of self-love."
There was a silent auction of goods donated by local businesses and national sex celebrities. Literature was available so that guests could learn more about the charitable groups they were helping to support. Promotional material from sponsoring companies was prominently displayed. The doors to the Masturbate-a-thon opened at 6 p.m., and the event ended at 2 a.m. Guests had to sign a liability waiver "in case you slip in your own spunk."
The month of May is not only National Masturbation Month. It has also been designated as Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. Isn't it encouraging when different causes can work together with such perfect symbiosis? And always remember that you will never be rejected by your own hand.
Steven Leech ~ Writer/Poet/D.J.
Was a Story Set in Wilmington
Among the Earliest Influences on the
Literature of the Harlem Renaissance?by Steven Leech, Broken Turtle Blog, Article Source
Alice Dunbar-NelsonAmong the earliest literary figures who lived in Delaware in the early 20th century was Alice Dunbar-Nelson. She was born Alice Moore in New Orleans on July 19, 1875. Her first husband was the American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar who died in 1906, about three years after she moved to Wilmington where she had family. Probably the best and most recent example of her influence on Paul Laurence Dunbar and about their the stormy relationship can be found in Eleanor Alexander’s 2002 book Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow (New York University Press). Her own literary career did not end there. Her literary work showed up, both before and after her marriage to Dunbar, in places like George Jean Nathan’s and H. L. Mencken’s Smart Set as well as in Crisis when it was edited by W. E. B. DuBois. While in Wilmington she married Robert Nelson and is better known today as Alice Dunbar-Nelson. Later she worked as an educator and social activist as well as publisher of the local African American newspaper, The Wilmington Advocate, during the early 1920s, making her a pioneer of local Black journalism. Her literary and journalistic works inspired many who participated in the Harlem Renaissance during the 1920s.
One of Dunbar-Nelson’s early short stories, “Hope Deferred,” is among her most anthologized. Two anthologies where the story can be found are: Ebony Rising: Short Fiction of the Greater Harlem Renaissance Era, edited by Craig Gable and published in 2004 by the Indiana University Press, and “Girl, Colored” and Other Stories: A Complete Short Fiction Anthology of African-American Women in The Crisis Magazine, 1910-2010, edited by Judith Musser and published in 2011 by McFarland & Company, Incorporated.
“Hope Deferred” was first published in 1914 in Crisis 8, the main publication for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). The story was most certainly written in Wilmington and gives clues regarding its locale. Early on in the story, Dunbar-Nelson states that the city in the story is, “if not distinctly southern, at least one on the borderland between the North and the South.” Later on in the same story she divulges that the protagonist, Edwards, is serving time at the “county workhouse.” The “Workhouse,” during a little more than the first half of the 20th century in New Castle County, was the name given to the county penal institution then located at the intersection of Greenbank Road and the Newport-Gap Pike (Route 41) near Price’s Corner. The “Workhouse” was also the place from which an uncharged inmate, George White, was kidnapped by local white citizens and lynched nearby in 1903, the year that Alice Dunbar arrived in Wilmington. The “Workhouse” was also the location, where about two weeks before the lynching of George White, several men were publicly whipped and made to stand in the pillory. Delaware finally outlawed the pillory in 1905, but the state did not abolish corporal punishment until the late 1960s. One of the guard towers of the ‘Workhouse” still remains in the Park at Price’s Corner.
Alice Dunbar-Nelson wrote “Hope Deferred,” which is most probably set in Wilmington, at a time when the Dupont Company was about to make an obscene fortune from profits from World War I, when the United States occupied the impoverished country of Haiti, when the Ku Klux Klan in Delaware was at the height of its power and influence and when both major political parties heard racist views. Even though the Progressive Era was in full bloom in places like New York City, and the Modernist Movement was making significant cultural advances, hope seemed to be waning for Wilmington’s African-American community. It was a bleak time in Delaware to be writing for social and cultural progress. In spite of this, Dunbar-Nelson wrote a story that was echoed in a refrain attributed to Langston Hughes when “hope deferred” became transferred into a “dream deferred.”
Alice Dunbar-Nelson only has a small citation in Alain Locke’s monumental tome, The New Negro: Voices of the Harlem Renaissance, published in 1925. Perhaps she might have had a greater part in Locke’s anthology and commentary had she gone to Harlem and played a greater role in that flowering of modern African-American culture. She chose instead to remain in Wilmington, and in her later years in Philadelphia, writing and struggling for social progress. Alice Dunbar-Nelson died on September 18, 1935. She is interred at the Wilmington and Brandywine Cemetery.
Alerts + Notes from ~@~
"A" is for Andrew's Apartment
by Ann Nichols, Open Salon, January 8, 2010 11:48AM, Article Source
As I may have mentioned a time or two, I fell in love with a different gay man every year of college. My second year at Oberlin, I fell in love with Andrew. Tall and solid, with bright blue eyes, a heart for literature, and a speaking voice that mingled seduction and the edge of an easy laugh, he was perfect for me. (Well, except for being gay and all). I met him in Shakespeare 301, where we noticed each other making comments as self-referential and pithy as only the comments of an undergraduate can be. When it was time to pick a partner to prepare a scene from Much Ado About Nothing, we were each other's Beatrice and Benedict as if it had been ordained by God, as if there was no one else in the classroom.
We fell into a pattern, Andrew and I, of meeting often for rehearsals, sitting together in Shakespeare class, and talking over coffee about everything from apartheid to heartbreak. Crunching over the fallen leaves, arm in arm, we walked together under the street lights to Professor Pierce's house the night of the Shakespeare performances. We sat together in the warm, comfortable living room where Mrs. Pierce, who was legally blind, brought in coffee and cookies for us, and Professor Pierce raised the invisible curtain on our night of theater, acknowledging our nerves and reminding us that The Bard was best understood in flesh and blood and not from the printed page. When it was our turn, Andrew and I bantered, flirted and sparked the hell out of our scene, and walked back to campus flushed and galvanized by applause and relief. We stopped for coffee at The Campus Diner, and as he talked, I was distracted by the blueness of his eyes, and the way our knees kept touching under the table. Beatrice was in love with her Benedict, although Benedict was still pining over some guy named Evan who he'd met on a work trip over the summer.
Eventually, Andrew invited me to his apartment to study for finals. I knew that he lived up over The Tap House, a bar as dive-y as it could be in a town that permitted the sale of nothing more potent than "near beer." A place where the most daring undergraduates mingled with the "townies," who inexplicably chose not to drive to a real bar outside of town to drink real alcohol, but came into Oberlin to drink steins of weak, vile near beer and menace the Elvis Costello wannabes. Clear as I could be about the fact that Andrew was absolutely and irrevocable gay, I still wanted to be near him, and to see the place where he lived. Conversions happened, I had heard, and how would I ever know if I didn't try?
I knew that he lived with a small colony of the people who most fascinated and terrified me at Oberlin, the heavily ironic, black-wearing chain smokers of unfiltered Camels who tended to major in Studio Art, Art History and English, and to originate from the Island of Manhattan. Although I had frequent contact with them in class, worked with them at the college radio station, and washed their plates of soft-boiled eggs garnished with cigarette butts in the dish room, they did not speak to me or in any way acknowledge my existence. No matter how hard I tried, with my used mens' overcoat my pointy-toed black plastic boots from Trash & Vaudeville, and my asymmetrical 80s haircut, they could smell my fundamentally Midwestern, goody-two-shoes aroma. They could tell, from passing me on the stairs in the library, that I had a drawer filled with Fair Isle sweaters, that I listened to The Pointer Sisters instead of The Butthole Surfers, that I secretly preferred Louisa May Alcott to Camus. I was Doris Day among Patti Smiths. I was terrified by them, I wanted to be them, and I harbored a fantasy that if I could just get my foot in the door, literally and figuratively, they would admire my wit and intelligence and admit me to the inner circle. If Andrew could get in, I reasoned, so might I.
The afternoon I first pushed the buzzer next to the Taproom's front doors, I was quickly admitted, and trudged up the long flight of malodorous stairs and into the kitchen. Like a scene from Twilight, I came upon a tableau of extraordinarily pale, beautiful people wearing black clothes, and surrounded by piles of books and half-filled coffee cups. (I do not know whether they got all sparkly when they were outside in the sun; I never saw one of them outside in daylight). Although Andrew, standing near the table, greeted me with a warm hug and announced me to his roommates, they barely acknowledged me; I think there was a bloodless, half-raised hand from one neurasthenic guy in a CBGBs T-shirt. Andrew offered me a cup of coffee, and as he poured it into a chipped mug, a girl burst into the room. Less beautiful than the others, but expensively clad in a pleated black schoolgirl skirt, vintage beaded cardigan and flat suede boots, she was clearly hysterical. "My mouton!" she said as she rubbed her hands in her black curls, "somebody stole my fucking mouton!"
This news was greeted with as much interest as my earlier arrival, which is to say, none. I stepped closer to Andrew, mild panic trumping my desire to mingle with the It-crowd, and he leaned down and whispered into my ear that they were all "speeding," and had been awake and seated at the table for more than 36 hours. "We'll help you look," Andrew said to the frantic girl, "Amy, this is my friend Ann, Ann, this is Amy Rutledge." Oh. I knew who she was, by reputation; her father was a famous writer, she had lots of money, and reportedly returned to Oberlin from Manhattan after every vacation with a suitcase full of drugs and hard liquor.
"Hi" I ventured. She looked at Andrew.
"I had it here last night, I went to a party and I had it - no, maybe I didn't have it when I got home. Shit, if somebody took it at the party..." she started to cry. Not one person at the kitchen table raised so much as an eyebrow.
"Come on," Andrew said, taking her under one elbow, "we'll start in your room and look." I followed the into her bedroom, which looked rather as if someone reading literature at Oxford had subleased from a Parisian prostitute. All light fixtures were draped with scarves in various colors, the bed was a mess of silk sheets and tassled throw pillows, and the dresser mirror reflected bottles of Chanel, Givenchy and Joy. The floor was nearly covered with black garments, and since some were inside-out, I could see that they were mostly designer. Among the discarded finery were books, notebooks, typed pages, a small, framed oil painting of a somewhat abstract nude who appeared to be Amy, packages of Camels, and, in a corner near the window, a Chanel lipstick and a jar of stubby eye pencils. "What's a mouton? So we can help you look" asked Andrew as we stood near the doorway.
"It's a coat, it's lamb, it's black, and curly," Amy explained threading her way to the bed and sitting in tragic isolation. "It was my grandmother's. My dad is going to fucking kill me if I lost it." She pulled a beaded evening clutch from the space between her bed and the wall, and fished out a package of cigarettes and a lighter. "The label in it should say Bergdorf's" she added, lighting the smoke.
"Let's start to the right of the door and work around clockwise," Andrew said to me, holding my gaze for longer than necessary, telling me tacitly that he knew this was bizarre, but that it was okay. I would, at that moment, have looked for the mouton in a rat-infested sewer if he had asked me to. He knelt in the pile of clothes, and I joined him on the floor where we systematically examined pieces of clothing, and I resisted the strong urge to fold them, and to sort the fallen objects into tidy piles of books, garments and "other." I had a million questions. I wanted to know about the "speed,"how it worked, where they got it, why they liked it. I wanted to know if Amy was really their friend, and if she was, why didn't they care about her mouton? I wanted to know how Andrew had come to live with these people, and if he actually liked them, and if they were always like this, or only when they were "speeding." I worked in silence, wondering if this would be the only time I ever touched anything with a Stephen Sprouse label.
"Shit, I need an ashtray" Amy said from the bed, where she was still sitting. "Andrew?" she added, raising her voice at the end in a little-girl way at odds with the box of condoms I had just replaced beneath a copy of Atlas Shrugged.
"I'll be right back" he said to me, putting a large, warm hand on my shoulder as he raised himself from the floor. He left me there, and I returned to the hunt. It seemed unlikely that I would suddenly become visible to Amy, and that we would blossom into confidantes as I picked through her things.
"You're Andrew's friend?" she asked. She was staring out the window, ash falling onto her black skirt.
"Uhm, yes. I know him from Pierce's class." I had reached the bed, and thought I saw the edge of something that looked like dog fur. I lay flat on my stomach and wiggled my head and shoulders under the foot of the bed. I saw Andrew's large, work-booted feet moving towards the suede boots to my left, heard him say "here you go, sweetie," and her say "thanks, baby. You take such good care of me." Around my confined head were dust balls, lacy panties, an empty bowl with a spoon in it, and, beneath a pair of black jeans, the furry object. I eased my hand forward, grasped it, and pulled it towards me. It had a rounded collar, and a silk lining, and just beneath the collar an embroidered label, black on white, that read "Bergdorf's" in a flowing script.
"I got it!" I called out, beginning my cautious retreat from under the bed. I emerged, covered with dust, hair askew, holding the heavy jacket and giving it a shake to remove the worst of the detritus. It was really a lovely thing, a boxy 50s style with three-quarter sleeves and large black buttons adorned with sparkling centers. I held it out to Amy, who dropped the stub of her cigarette in the ashtray Andrew had brought her, sprung up and took the jacket into her arms.
"Thank you!!" she said, reaching out to pull me into a hug, crushed against the mouton. She smelled like smoke and roses. "Thank you Andrew's friend -" she cocked her head "what's your name again?"
"Ann."
"Thank you, thank you, you are my FAVORITE, favorite friend of Andrew's, thank you so much!" She let me go, and beamed at Andrew, looking prettier than she had thus far. "Thanks, doll," she said, winking at him. "You should invite her to a party here, or something. Shit!" She looked at the Cartier travel alarm next to her bed. "Shit, shit, shit I have to be writing the fucking Don Juan paper. Shit." She dropped the mouton on the bed and began rummaging through the books stored on the floor nearest the bed.
"You're welcome," I said as I followed Andrew out of the room, and into the relative calm and tidiness of his own.
I did not see Amy again, or any of the roommates, until the night of the "Come as Your Favorite Whore" party, but that is a story for another day.
Photo Credit:
Mouton Jacket: http://imagehost.vendio.com/a/35028292/aview/L655.jpg
The "Come As Your Favorite Whore" Party
by Ann Nichols, Open Salon, January 29, 2010 8:29AM, Article Source
Click to view Red pill and blue pill From Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaMy roommate in East Hall was a "townie" who had graduated at the top of her class from Oberlin High School, headed to a prestigious womens' college on the East coast, and transferred to Oberlin for reasons never entirely clear to me. Her family was conservative politically and socially, and reminded me of characters from a 1950s sitcom; her father with a flat top haircut and large glasses with black plastic frames, her mother in a dress or what could only be called "slacks," reading glasses on a chain around her neck, sensible shoes and no makeup. In the early 1980s her parents were a trope; going to their house for dinner was like turning a corner and finding oneself at the home of Aunt Bee's dowdy, bookish neighbors.
Betsy, their daughter, my roommate, was smart, and funny, and earnest. A good friend, a hard worker, a runner, she washed her face every night with Noxema and a washcloth, and returned to her half of the room smelling of eucalyptus and virtue. I knew she was a better person than I would ever be, and while part of me slipped easily into our domestic routine of breakfast together, dinner together, mutual respect for quiet study and Saturday nights eating blueberry whole wheat doughnuts from Gibson's and maybe drinking a little "near beer" at the Rathskeller, I sometimes longed for something darker. I often longed for something darker. I smoked, I pined for gay men, I bought every black, vintage garment I could afford, and still I knew that beneath it all I was really the same kind of nice girl in jeans and a Fair Isle sweater that Betsy was. I loved her, I really did, but I also had the need to make myself separate, as if she were my surrogate parent there in the cornfields of Ohio. Every good thing she did made me want, just a little, to drink straight gin until I threw up, and have sex with strangers, and smoke unfiltered Camels. Unfortunately, no one was offering me any of those options.
When Andrew invited me to the "Come As Your Favorite Whore" party at his apartment over the Taproom, I was ecstatic. Then terrified. We were in Modern American Novels, Andrew and I, and on my other side was Max, the guy who lived across the hall from me, a tall, lanky English Major type who would eventually become an artist of some reknown. Professor Gammon rustled papers at the podium, and I asked Andrew what one wore to such a party.
"Oh," he answered vaguely, "I don't really dress for it...lots of drag, the girls dress up in fishnets and heels...you know." I had no idea. Honestly, I did not have a favorite whore; I wasn't sure I had ever actually seen one, even when I lived in Boston. Sweetheart that he was, Andrew saw the panic in my face. "It's okay, doll; you'll figure it out. Borrow. Borrow from your roommate, and look at all your stuff. You'll find things." On my other side, Max snorted.
"Her roommate is, like, the dullest person in the entire world." He said as Gammon cleared his throat. Half of my brain was on the lecture, he was talking about A Modern Instance by William Dean Howells, I was thinking about my clothes, what I owned that could be worn by a whore, what did whores wear, was Betsy really that boring, if she was really that boring, did people like Max think I was just like her, but no, because if he thought that he wouldn't have said she was boring in front of me, so clearly, CLEARLY he was saying that she was dull but I was not, and that felt so good that I warmed, and then so bad and disloyal that I felt a stone grow in my stomach. I loved her, I loved the cozy, safe warmth and predictability of having a best friend living in the other half of my room. Couldn't I also have fishnets, and gin?
The night of the Come As Your Favorite Whore party was cold and windy. I had cobbled together an outfit which included a black skirt rolled at the top to make it short, a black cardigan unbuttoned low enough to show cleavage, and black tights with a couple of holes in them. I didn't have high heels, and could not have walked across the cobbled Quad in them anyway, so I wore black flats. I had dangly earrings, teased hair and what I believed to be a whorish jangle of makeup bought cheap at the Ben Franklin - red lips, blue eyelids, glittery pink cheeks. Betsy, about to be abandoned by me on a Saturday night, helped me get ready. I noticed that she looked bemused as she cut a little hole in my stocking, and tried to hide the giant bulge at my waist caused by rolling the top of the skirt. Maybe I was my favorite pregnant whore. I was mostly terrified; I had not been back to Andrew's apartment since the day in the fall when I had met Amy and found her mouton jacket. He said she had specifically told him to invite me. I could not imagine what this party would entail, and if I would know what to do. I chain smoked which, oddly, Betsy didn't mind; her father was a smoker and she said it reminded her of home.
With my vintage tweed overcoat over my whore ensemble, I left the safe plastic lounge chairs and carpeted halls of East, and headed across the Quad into town, to the Taproom. I could hear it from the street, and I could see silhouetted in the second floor windows, bodies moving. Walking, dancing, bottles in hands. I had very little experience with parties; I had avoided them in high school, there hadn't been any during my brief tenure at the Conservatory. At Oberlin I had hung out with groups in dorm rooms or lounges, but I had never been to a party off campus, and certainly not with the Persons in Black, who wielded all psychic power in my 20-year-old universe. I pushed the buzzer, and was allowed in. I smelled smoke, beer, perfume, sweat, wet wool, burnt coffee, and old books; as I climbed the stairs, I heard music I didn't know, loud, percussive, a singer with a flat, nasal voice. At the top of the stairs there were people everywhere, seemingly impenetrable, and I could not see a face that I knew. No Andrew, no Amy, not even any of the roommates. I started to push my way in between a tall, beautiful man in drag, and a small, pale girl wearing what seemed to be a bikini and white vinyl boots. I stepped on her foot.
"Ouch!" she said, both of them looking at me as if I had only recently been removed from the bottom of a shoe. "Fucking look where you're going."
"Sorry," I mumbled. This was not a good start, not a good start, not a good start. To my right I saw a guy I knew from the radio station, not a friend, exactly, he being a spinner of Social Distortion and Circle Jerks, and I being a spinner of Mozart, but he knew who I was. He sat in a large armchair with a Sherlock Holmes pipe in his hand, not in costume as far as I could tell; on his lap was a famous Person in Black, granddaughter of a prominent art gallery owner in Manhattan. She had a flapper bob with straight bangs and a fluff of black curls breaking out at the end of a smooth curve of hair, her skin was bloodless pale, her eyes heavily rimmed with black and her lips filled in with matte burgundy. She wore fishnets and impossibly high heels, and a small, tight black dress with no sleeves and a neck that plunged down and was gathered around a metal ring between her breasts. She was staring into space, and did not look at me, still wearing my coat, as I approached. "Nick," I said, "have you seen Andrew?" He looked at me and squinted, as if focusing.
"Andrew....?"
"Andrew who lives here. He invited me, I can't find him, I don't know anybody here, and-"
"Haven't seen him." He took a puff from his pipe and buried his face in the black curls. Dismissed, I looked around, wishing desperately that I could move away from Nick and his lady friend after having been completely and totally snubbed, but unwilling to give up my inch of floor space until I had a clear plan. Finally, finally I saw Andrew at the kitchen table, talking to Amy. I maneuvered across the room, bumping into arms and bodies when I looked down to avoid stepping on feet. When I got close enough, Andrew could see me, and beckoned me over.
"Annie!" he was genuinely delighted. "Let's put your coat in my room." I followed him; the sea of black, patchouli-scented cigarette puffers parted for him as it had not done for me. An arch of irony formed. In his room, I took off my coat and modeled my attempt at whoreishness. He smiled, benevolent as always. "You look absolutely cheap" he pronounced. "Let's get you a drink." I followed him back out into the party, silently pleading with him not to leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me. The kitchen table was set up as a bar, covered with bottles of vodka, gin, mostly clear things, littered with plastic cups, and featuring a large, clear glass bowl filled half way with a variety of pills. They were quite beautiful, actually, like candy. in the corner was a keg, and sitting in a chair at the table was Amy, resplendent in a too-tight, bright blue dress with sequins and matching eyeshadow. "Amy, you remember Annie, right?" Andrew asked, gesturing to indicate that I should pick something to drink.
"Uhm, vodka and orange juice would be good" I said, smiling at Amy. We did, after all, have a bond; I was her "favorite friend of Andrew's."
"Why'd he come to my fucking party if he was bringing her, piece of shit fucker" she mumbled into her hand. I looked at Andrew, alarmed.
"The guy she likes came with his girlfriend" he explained. "Amy, baby, come with us and see who's here" he tried, touching her bare, pink arm. Tears started to run down her cheeks, carrying with them a black trail of mascara.
"You're always so nice to me, always so nice." She stood, wobbling on pointy-toed black heels, and stepped towards Andrew. "You too," she said, finally looking at me, "you're so nice too. You're Andrew's friend. and you are soooooo nice to me. Why did he bring her, mother fucking sonofabitch?" There really wasn't an answer to this; I stood by Andrew, he held Amy, Persons in Black, in drag, in fishnets, in clouds of smoke, broke around us like waves as they moved in for another drink, or to fish a pill out of the bowl. No one spoke to us, even the roommates, who appeared to pull another bottle out of a cupboard or pitch a few discarded cups into the trash; they smiled at Andrew, he smiled back, he kept patting Amy's sequined back like he was burping a baby. I wasn't really sure this was fun, I was pretty sure it wasn't, I was under-dressed, anonymous, sad for Amy, thinking I would like either to get out and go back to my room or be drunk enough that it all seemed normal. I took a long drink of my vodka and made a second cup full.
"Can we do something for her?" I whispered to Andrew. He shook his head. He reconsidered.
"Her sister's here, somewhere - if you can find her, maybe we can get her into bed."
"How will I know which one is her sister?"
"She's wearing a fur coat, a long one, with a black dress under it and black boots. Her name is Patty." I noticed the black smudges on the front of his white button down shirt. Andrew was not dressed as his favorite whore; he was dressed as a tax accountant on a Saturday.
Back in the throng, I looked for a fur coat; it seemed that every time I was in that apartment I was looking for fur. I saw more men in drag than I had ever seen, noticing, absently that many of the men were far prettier than the women. It occurred to me that all of these people seemed to have, at their disposal, complete and upscale wardrobes of hooker-wear. I did not know a single person who owned fishnet stockings, a sequined dress or white vinyl boots. I was pretty sure I didn't know a man who owned womens' clothes, much less a whore outfit, but I didn't know for sure. It was too much, too fast; wasn't there middle ground between Betsy's Noxema and these arch, privileged aliens?
I saw a flash of brown fur and pursued it, pivoting sideways when I need to get though a tiny opening in the crowd. I was getting better at it. The wearer of the coat fit Andrew's description, and resembled Amy on a smaller, more slender scale. She was standing with her back to the wall, with a tall, nice looking guy in checkered slide-on shoes leaning down towards her. "Patty?" I said. She looked over, clearly annoyed.
"Yeah?"
"Um, I'm a friend of Andrew's, and he said to find you because Amy's having kind of a bad time." She rolled her eyes.
"And Amy is not having a bad time exactly when....?" She took the cardigan-ed arm of the tall guy. "I'll be back." She turned towards me, turned back to him, grabbed the front of his sweater with both hands and pulled him down for a kiss. I willed myself invisible. "Okay," she sighed, stepping away from him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "where is she?" I led her into the kitchen, where Amy was back in a chair, a cup in her hand. "What's the problem?" Patty asked Andrew.
"Paul's here. He brought his girlfriend." She rolled her eyes again.
"Jesus fucking Christ. He doesn't even really like her, either; he's in love with Michael Porter." She squatted in front of Amy until their eyes were level. "Amy, babes, you've got to stop drinking. You know you can't drink with the meds. I don't want to have to tell Daddy again." Amy looked away like a baby avoiding a spoon full of Gerber squash. "You don't want to have to go home, do you?" Amy turned her face back.
"No, but I'm so fucking sad, he brought that girl."
"I know, babes, I know...what's in that cup?"
"Water" answered Andrew. "We made a deal that she could have a real drink in a bit if she just had water for now." He winked at Patty, barely perceptible.
"K. Let's get her into bed." Patty rose and walked to one side of Amy, Andrew to the other. Amy smiled at me as they took her arms, licking a gray tear from the corner of her lip.
"Where'r my manners. You want something?" She nodded towards the bowl of pills, "I like the blue ones. Have a blue one." They were raising her, gently, and she turned back to me as they led her from the room. "You found my mouton!" I smiled at her, feeling wet heat stinging the back of my eyeballs.
"I'll be right back," Andrew told me, as they walked her, slowly, down the hall towards her room. I was an island as they swirled around me, all of the cool people, only briefly deterred by my inexplicable presence between their lithe, ironic selves and the bottles and pills on the table. I wondered, briefly, what a blue one would do for me. Andrew came back, looking tired. "I'm so, so sorry" he said, "she just takes things really hard."
"Is she okay now?" He smiled at me, his eyes so blue, with crinkles at the corners, like everything good in the world. I loved him so much, I was so terribly sad that he was gay, I felt terrible about Amy, I wanted to go home.
"She'll be all right. We've done this before. Patty put a fan on in her room so the noise isn't as bad, and she's sitting in there for a little while." I nodded.
"Andrew, thanks so much for inviting me, but I think I've got to go back to the dorm." He made a funny, crumple-lipped face that conveyed regret, but no surprise.
"I'll get your coat. Hang on." Alone in the room, waiting, I stepped towards the bowl of pills and put my hand in, enjoying the feeling of the tablets and capsules under my sweaty palm, between my spread fingers. Between my thumb and forefinger I grasped a blue pill, and held it as Andrew came out with my coat, helped me into it, and kissed me on the cheek. I slipped the pill into my pocket and threaded my way out of the kitchen, down the stairs, and out into the dark, cold and empty street.
Photo Credit
Blue Pill: http://www.flyingsnail.com/Dahbud/images/bluepill.jpg
Amateur Radio ~ A hobby I was very fond of
Animation for the Appliance Challenged Gallery ~ Various forms of animation
Apple/Mac ~ FYI page with some GNU/Linux
ARCHIVES ~ The past & present: May 2013 Archive
Bitter ~ Nobody Cares What You're Doing Now
Brokedown Coffee ~ Roasting Coffee
CASHCPR ~ Citizens Against Second Hand Cellular Phone Radiation
Disclaimer ~ Intent behind FlyingSnail.com
Emmy ~ Tom Smothers
Gallery d'Ann ~ Currently showing clay sculpture
Gay Freedom Day 1977 ~ San Francisco, CA ~ June 26, 1977 ~ MP3 Audio
Google Is Evil ~ Breaking a promise
Kipper Williams on Google, guardian.co.uk, Thursday 16 May 2013 14.21 EDT, Source
Google's Plan To Take Over The World
by Steve Kovach, Business Insider, May 18, 2013, 8:00 AM, Article Source via Pondo
Google's big keynote at its I/O developers conference this week wore me out.
Not because it lasted a grueling three hours and fifty minutes, but because of what was announced. With every new product update, every new feature, every new virtual service, it became more and more clear that Google isn't just a search company that makes loads of cash by showing you ads. It's creeping into every aspect of our digital, physical, and private lives at an exponential rate.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it.
Google isn't just the backbone of the Internet anymore. It's rapidly becoming the backbone of your entire life, all thanks to data you're voluntarily giving up to a private company based on your Web searches, photos, Gmail messages, and more.
After spending three days at I/O this week, it became more apparent than ever that unless millions (billions?) of people suddenly change their mind and start using alternative tech tools, or unless the government steps in waving the anti-trust banner, our lives, our history, and our personal wealth could be managed by one company ---- Google.
It's the most apparent in Google Now, a voice-powered personal assistant that launched on Android phones last year. At I/O, it became even more clear that Google no longer sees search as returning a list of 10 or 20 relevant links when you type in a query. Google Now is much more than that. It's the embodiment of that geeky dream of a "Star Trek Computer," an intelligent machine that understands natural language and real-world context to assist you before you even know you need assistance.
Google Now scans your email and knows when your Amazon package is arriving. It knows what sports scores to show you based on the teams you've searched for. It knows what stock prices to show you based on the companies you search for. It scans your calendar and reminds you when to leave to make your appointment on time. And all that data is delivered to you without you having to ask.
Following I/O, Google Now is more prevalent than before. Google recently launched the app on iPhones and iPads, and it's coming to the desktop soon if you use the Chrome Web browser. Next year, you'll be wearing Google Now on your face if you buy Google Glass.
Then there are photos, arguably the most personal things you share online. Now, Google scans every single one you upload to Google+. It can learn what your family members look like and group photos of them into albums automatically. It can tell if your subjects are smiling. If they're not smiling, it can stitch their faces in from other images where they are and create the perfect photo for you. It knows if you're taking pictures of mountains or puppies or buildings or famous landmarks and group your photo albums together accordingly.
It's creepy and magical at the same time.
Google Glass didn't get any stage time during the I/O keynote, but it was still a significant part of the event. You couldn't go anywhere ---- the press room, the cafeteria, the restroom ---- without someone's computerized headgear staring back at you. It was oddly discomforting knowing that thousands of people had the ability to take a photo or video of you just by winking at their Glass.
It's far too early to tell if Glass will take off when it's ready for the general public, but if it does, then it'll be just another example of how Google has reached into the physical space to take over everything we see and do.
I could go on and on, but this week I learned that Google has its hand in almost every aspect day-to-day life and its penetration is only accelerating.
Android is growing like crazy with 900 million activations to date, and it has the potential to connect billions of people to the Internet for the first time in the next few years. Google Maps has a new look, and it's turned into a snappy way to find places to visit and get recommendations. Gmail is turning into a money transfer service. I can only imagine what Google co-founder Sergey Brin is working on at Google X, the company's lab for futuristic products.
The question to ask now is, are we OK with this? Does the benefit of faster search, better transportation, and automated news updates outweigh giving up so much of our lives to a computer run by a private company that mines our data?
They're issues we'd have to tackle gradually, but hopefully not before Google advances faster than we can adapt.
Grateful Deadhead ~ Grateful Dead
How To Fix A Broken World ~ A thought
Hunger and Shame ~ Dr. Mary Howard and Dr. Ann V. Millard
LINKS ~ FlyingSnail links
Marliese's Corner ~ San Francisco Events
Missing BBS Files ~ Some of the first Bulletin Board Systems in the United States
Normandy Guitar ~ Made in Salem, Oregon, USA
Oral Cancer Struggle ~ Email from Curtis
Radio Control Models ~ Aviation
Sailing ~ on Flying Snail
Sprung ~ Harley-Davidson Springer Enthusiast
They ~ Defining Them
United State Cafe ~ Historic Haight/Ashbury Coffee House, San Francisco, California
United State Cafe~AC ~ United State Cafe~DC ~ Photo Albums by James Stark
Gallery Faire and the United State Cafe~DC1975 Music Sets Recorded at the United State Cafe
July 29, 1975 = Tuesday Night Class, featuring Keith Lampe A.K.A. Ponderosa Pine & more on this Tuesday recording:
MP3: 83.4 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/tuesnightclass7_29_1975.mp3
August 02, 1975 = Robin Kilgore:
MP3: 91.1 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/robinkilgore8_2_1975.mp3
August 09, 1975 = Jumpin Jupiter:
MP3: 136.9 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/jumpinjupiter8_9_1975.mp3
August 12, 1975 = Gabriel Gladstar:
MP3: 101.6 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/gabrielgladstar8_12_1975.mp3
August 13, 1975 = Happy Valley String Band:
MP3: 75.3 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/happyvalley8_13_1975.mp3
August 26, 1975 = Honey Creek:
MP3: 43.6 MB = http://www.flyingsnail.com/Podcast/honeycreek8_26_1975.mp3
These United State Cafe recordings are a reminder of bands and music I loved. Unfortunately, I was not able to record all the people who performed. ~ Curtis +++ Click to Visit FlyingSnail's Podcast page for more music.
Video ~ Movies
Where Have All the Flowers Gone ~ Stuff ~@~ feels is important
Word Worlds ~Where simplifying complexity becomes art.
Amestizo ~ BLOG + NEW: http://amestizo.bigcartel.com/
Bobby Kent ~ Gospel Music
Broken Turtle Books LLC ~ Bookstore
Chris Nelson ~ Photographer
Chris Zalla ~ Filmmaker
David Normal ~ Artist
David Wills ~ Artist
Gomma TV ~ Punk TV Italy
H323.org ~ Free Open Source H.323 Video Conferencing
James Redo ~ Artist
James Stark ~ Artist, Photographer, Punk 77
Jessica Jorgensen ~ Entertainment Professional
John Flores ~ Graphics
Michael Stickrod ~ Art Exhibitions / Screenings
NCast ~ Sponsor ~ NCast Dancing Frogs
Nobody for President = NONE OF THE ABOVE should be on voter ballots ~ Wavy Gravy
Seva Foundation Celebrates Its 35th Anniversary
Kirtan benefit concert
Featuring: Snatam Kaur, Jai Uttal, C.C. White & Shimshai
with host Wavy Gravy ~ Click for Information
Monday, May 27th - Palace of Fine Arts Theater in San Francisco
Patchworks Films ~ Marcia Jarmel & Ken Schneider, Filmmakers
PPRS ~ Pacific Packet Radio Society ~ Historic Wireless Digital Communication
Rainbow Puddle ~ Stellar Light Shows + YouTube Video Channel
Freedom of expression and freedom of speech aren't really important unless they're heard...It's hard for me to stay silent when I keep hearing that peace is only attainable through war. And there's nothing more scary than watching ignorance in action. So I dedicated this Emmy to all the people who feel compelled to speak out and not afraid to speak to power and won't shut up and refuse to be silenced. ~ Tommy Smothers
Cree Prophecy
Only after the last tree has been cut down,
Only after the last river has been poisoned,
Only after the last fish has been caught,
Only then will you find money cannot be eaten.
Things don't change, people do
Nothing has Changed !
Here are previous Month of May Archives:2007~ 2007.05 ~ 2008 ~ 2008.05 ~ 2009 ~ 2009.05 ~ 2010 ~ 2010.05 ~ 2011 ~ 2011.05 ~ 2012 ~ 2012.05
Innocence March
A group of lawyers are walking from San Diego to Sacramento to raise awareness of 12 inmates proven factually innocent who are still in jail. They've already walked 265 miles in 21 days.
March With Us To Free The California Twelve! From San Diego to Sacramento
Starting April 27, 2013, attorneys, students, exonerees, and family members of the wrongfully convicted will join hands in a march from San Diego to Sacramento. We will start at California Western School of Law and finish at the Governor's office roughly 55 days later.
Join us on this 600+ mile freedom march across the state. The march will include public awareness events and 2 public walking days. Be sure to sign up for updates and keep checking back! [Click to Visit Page Source]
Totally Disingenuous Politician Says What:
Aid is ‘totally different' from Aid
Tweedle Flip and Tweedle FlopInhofe: Tornado aid ‘totally different' from Hurricane Sandy aid
By Rachel Weiner and Matt DeLong, The Washington Post, May 21, 2013 at 10:40 am, Article Source
In the wake of the devastating tornado in an Oklahoma City suburb, Sen. James Inhofe (R-Okla.) rejected comparisons between federal aid for this disaster and the Hurricane Sandy relief package he voted against.
[Video located at Source]
That was a "totally different" situation, Inhofe told MSNBC, arguing that the Sandy aid was filled with pork. There were "things in the Virgin Islands. They were fixing roads there and putting roofs on houses in Washington, D.C."
"Everyone was getting in and exploiting the tragedy that took place," he said. "That won't happen in Oklahoma."
The senator appeared to be referring to the fact that some funds from the Sandy package for the Federal Highway Administration could go to the Virgin Islands, as well as $2 million allocated to the Smithsonian for roofs damaged by the storm. We don't yet know what a congressional relief package for Oklahoma would look like, if one is even necessary. As of Tuesday morning, FEMA has $11.6 billion in its Disaster Relief Fund.
Sen. Tom Coburn (R-Okla.) has said that any federal aid to Oklahoma must be offset by cuts. Like Inhofe, he voted against the Hurricane Sandy package. Two of Oklahoma's five members in the House of Representatives, all Republicans, voted against it. Rep. James Lankford voted for a smaller federal flood relief package but against the bigger package. President Obama has declared a federal disaster, and Federal Emergency Management Agency Director Craig Fugate is headed to Oklahoma.
Are Obama Scandals and Corporate Media Problems
Happening Because Bush Administration Baby Killers
Were Set Free and Not Charged With War Crimes?
Lies, Lies, Lies - BlackMustache.comIt is important to remember Democrats and Republicans supported Israel's murder and maiming of United States Naval personnel aboard the USS Liberty, supplied Iraq with biological and chemical weapons from U.S. manufacturers, appointed Bush president, passed the Patriot Act against U.S. citizens, gave Telecom companies a free pass for knowingly breaking law, and more than likely had something to do with the mass murders of 9/11.
How to Perform a Citizen's Arrest
of A Bush Administration Officialby Nathan Robinson, July 27, 2008 05:22 PM, Article Source
The news that 4 people had been arrested in Iowa while trying to perform a citizen's arrest on Karl Rove got me wondering: Can we arrest Bush administration officials ourselves? So I slogged through a slew of state statutes, and as it turns out, the answer is yes. But only if you live in certain particular states.
Citizen's arrests have a long, rich tradition dating back hundreds of years. Because the power of ordinary people to help law enforcement execute its duties is important, nearly every state has some sort of statute on the books permitting citizen detentions of suspected criminals.
However, while most states allow citizen's arrests, the majority require the presence of the citizen performing the arrest during the crime. A number of states have more flexible language in their laws, though. The California Penal Code, for example says the following:837. A private person may arrest another:
1. For a public offense committed or attempted in his presence.
2. When the person arrested has committed a felony, although not in his presence.
3. When a felony has been in fact committed, and he has reasonable cause for believing the person arrested to have committed it.
Alabama and Kentucky have similar wordings. Montana phrases things thusly:
A private person may arrest another when there is probable cause to believe that the person is committing or has committed an offense and the existing circumstances require the person's immediate arrest.
The dispute here will likely arise over the definition of the words "require the person's immediate arrest." I'd argue that if anyone needed to be immediately arrested, it's Karl Rove, but a Montana judge might disagree. And one of the main downsides to citizen's arrests is that if you're in the wrong, you have almost no legal protection (and depending on state law, may have committed a crime tantamount to kidnapping).
Don't let that deter you, though! If there are reasonable grounds to suspect a felony has been committed by the person arrested, then a citizen's arrest is perfectly legally justified. Just don't go and arrest the man behind the counter at the sandwich shop who gave you the wrong change.
What the four Iowans did is courageous, and is exactly how we should use the citizen arrest power. A citizen's arrest is a peaceful, lawful, old-fashioned, and charmingly Midwestern way to hold government criminals accountable. I suggest that we start a nationwide movement. We will turn any suspected government criminals over to the police. Just wait until a Bush administration official shows up in your town.
Figure out whether they can reasonably be considered guilty of a felony. Check the US Code to see who's guilty of what, and then perform a citizen's arrest.
Rove, for example, could likely be detained on suspicion of obstruction of justice, having violated Title 1, Section 18, Chapter 73, S. 1505:
Whoever corruptly... obstructs, or impedes or endeavors to influence [or] obstruct...the due and proper exercise of the power of inquiry under which any inquiry or investigation is being had by either House, or any committee of either House or any joint committee of the Congress...[s]hall be fined under this title, imprisoned not more than 5 years or, if the offense involves international or domestic terrorism...imprisoned not more than 8 years, or both.
I would think that one's fairly cut-and-dry. I'm not a lawyer, however, and I don't know whether this would interfere with, or be superseded by, the pending contempt of Congress citation. Still, I think it gives plenty of "reasonable suspicion," and if Rove is in California, that's all you need. You might pick up Miers or Bolton as well with that statute.
It doesn't take much perusing of the U.S. Code to find violations that administration officials are surely guilty of (the Elections and Political Activities section is one particular goldmine), and if you live in a state with lax state laws regarding citizen's arrests, detaining these people is perfectly within your right. It's just important to follow a few key steps.
1. Check your state laws first. This can be done by entering the name of your state and "statutes" into a search engine. An official online copy of existing state law will usually be the first result. The process for citizen's arrests will usually be located in the section under Crimes > Criminal Procedures > Arrests > Arrests by Private Persons, or something similar. Sometimes statutes are incredibly confusing to navigate through, but there will often be a search function somewhere on the page.
2. Check to make sure the particular person in question can be suspected of committing a felony (make sure it's a felony, though this depends on state law also).
3. Detain the person, without using physical force of any sort. Announce that you are performing a citizen's arrest, and cite the crime they are suspected of.
4. Call the police. Make sure you know the relevant citizen's arrest statute number and the U.S. Code number. You don't want to be the one being arrested.
5. This is risky, and all depends on your state. Make sure you're on solid legal ground first. It is best to consult a lawyer. WikiHow has an informative article on citizen's arrests in general.
We really ought to be inspired by the 4 courageous Iowans who dared to try to hold Rove accountable for his crimes. Government officials, no matter how high-ranking, should be prevented from even walking the street without fear of arrest, if they are guilty of a crime. Whether or not justice is done should not depend on how politically influential the accused is. If the Justice Department will not do its job, then let citizens uphold the law. Citizen's arrests are a powerful yet peaceful way to show the strength and defiance of the American people.
Nobody Pays Attention the First Time Around
Telecom Crimes
Violation of the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution
Violation of the First Amendment to the Constitution
Unlawful electronic surveillance or disclosure or use of information obtained by electronic surveillance in violation of 50 U.S.C. §1809.
Unlawful interception, use or disclosure of Class communications in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 2511
Unlawful solicitation and obtained disclosure of the contents of communications in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 2702(a)(1) or (a)(2)
Unlawful solicitation and obtained disclosure of non-content records or other information in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 2702(a)(3)
Violation of the Administrative Procedures Act
Violation of the constitutional principle of separation of powers
Telecom Punishment
Click Here to Read Any of the Following Articles
Congress votes to immunize lawbreaking telecoms, legalize warrantless eavesdropping
Senate Approves Telco Amnesty, Legalizes Bush's Secret Spy Program
Wiretapping, Telecom Companies, and You | The Legality
Top Internet Threats: Censorship to Warrantless Surveillance
Cybersecurity Act Would Give President Power to 'Shut Down' Internet
Public Knowledge Rejects: Telecom Industry Assault on Consumers
Death Of The Internet: Unprecedented Censorship Bill Passes in UK
Lieberman Bill Gives Feds 'Emergency' Powers to Secure Civilian Nets
9 Reasons Wired Readers Should Wear Tinfoil Hats
Click Here to Read Any of the Above Articles
Are all telephone calls recorded
and accessible to the US government?A former FBI counterterrorism agent claims on CNN that this is the case
Glenn Greenwald, guardian.co.uk, Saturday 4 May 2013 08.22 EDT, Article Source
Former FBI counterterrorism agent Tim Clemente, on CNN, discussing
government's surveillance capabilities Photograph: CNN screegrabThe real capabilities and behavior of the US surveillance state are almost entirely unknown to the American public because, like most things of significance done by the US government, it operates behind an impenetrable wall of secrecy. But a seemingly spontaneous admission this week by a former FBI counterterrorism agent provides a rather startling acknowledgment of just how vast and invasive these surveillance activities are.
Over the past couple days, cable news tabloid shows such as CNN's Out Front with Erin Burnett have been excitingly focused on the possible involvement in the Boston Marathon attack of Katherine Russell, the 24-year-old American widow of the deceased suspect, Tamerlan Tsarnaev. As part of their relentless stream of leaks uncritically disseminated by our Adversarial Press Corps, anonymous government officials are claiming that they are now focused on telephone calls between Russell and Tsarnaev that took place both before and after the attack to determine if she had prior knowledge of the plot or participated in any way.
On Wednesday night, Burnett interviewed Tim Clemente, a former FBI counterterrorism agent, about whether the FBI would be able to discover the contents of past telephone conversations between the two. He quite clearly insisted that they could:
BURNETT: Tim, is there any way, obviously, there is a voice mail they can try to get the phone companies to give that up at this point. It's not a voice mail. It's just a conversation. There's no way they actually can find out what happened, right, unless she tells them?
CLEMENTE: "No, there is a way. We certainly have ways in national security investigations to find out exactly what was said in that conversation. It's not necessarily something that the FBI is going to want to present in court, but it may help lead the investigation and/or lead to questioning of her. We certainly can find that out.
BURNETT: "So they can actually get that? People are saying, look, that is incredible.
CLEMENTE: "No, welcome to America. All of that stuff is being captured as we speak whether we know it or like it or not."
"All of that stuff" - meaning every telephone conversation Americans have with one another on US soil, with or without a search warrant - "is being captured as we speak".
On Thursday night, Clemente again appeared on CNN, this time with host Carol Costello, and she asked him about those remarks. He reiterated what he said the night before but added expressly that "all digital communications in the past" are recorded and stored:
[ VIDEO located HERE ]
Let's repeat that last part: "no digital communication is secure", by which he means not that any communication is susceptible to government interception as it happens (although that is true), but far beyond that: all digital communications - meaning telephone calls, emails, online chats and the like - are automatically recorded and stored and accessible to the government after the fact. To describe that is to define what a ubiquitous, limitless Surveillance State is.
There have been some previous indications that this is true. Former AT&T engineer Mark Klein revealed that AT&T and other telecoms had built a special network that allowed the National Security Agency full and unfettered access to data about the telephone calls and the content of email communications for all of their customers. Specifically, Klein explained "that the NSA set up a system that vacuumed up Internet and phone-call data from ordinary Americans with the cooperation of AT&T" and that "contrary to the government's depiction of its surveillance program as aimed at overseas terrorists . . . much of the data sent through AT&T to the NSA was purely domestic." But his amazing revelations were mostly ignored and, when Congress retroactively immunized the nation's telecom giants for their participation in the illegal Bush spying programs, Klein's claims (by design) were prevented from being adjudicated in court.
That every single telephone call is recorded and stored would also explain this extraordinary revelation by the Washington Post in 2010:
Every day, collection systems at the National Security Agency intercept and store 1.7 billion e-mails, phone calls and other types of communications.
It would also help explain the revelations of former NSA official William Binney, who resigned from the agency in protest over its systemic spying on the domestic communications of US citizens, that the US government has "assembled on the order of 20 trillion transactions about US citizens with other US citizens" (which counts only communications transactions and not financial and other transactions), and that "the data that's being assembled is about everybody. And from that data, then they can target anyone they want."
Despite the extreme secrecy behind which these surveillance programs operate, there have been periodic reports of serious abuse. Two Democratic Senators, Ron Wyden and Mark Udall, have been warning for years that Americans would be "stunned" to learn what the US government is doing in terms of secret surveillance.
Information Awareness OfficeStrangely, back in 2002 - when hysteria over the 9/11 attacks (and thus acquiescence to government power) was at its peak - the Pentagon's attempt to implement what it called the "Total Information Awareness" program (TIA) sparked so much public controversy that it had to be official scrapped. But it has been incrementally re-instituted - without the creepy (though honest) name and all-seeing-eye logo - with little controversy or even notice.
Back in 2010, worldwide controversy erupted when the governments of Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates banned the use of Blackberries because some communications were inaccessible to government intelligence agencies, and that could not be tolerated. The Obama administration condemned this move on the ground that it threatened core freedoms, only to turn around six weeks later and demand that all forms of digital communications allow the US government backdoor access to intercept them. Put another way, the US government embraced exactly the same rationale invoked by the UAE and Saudi agencies: that no communications can be off limits. Indeed, the UAE, when responding to condemnations from the Obama administration, noted that it was simply doing exactly that which the US government does:
"'In fact, the UAE is exercising its sovereign right and is asking for exactly the same regulatory compliance - and with the same principles of judicial and regulatory oversight - that Blackberry grants the US and other governments and nothing more,' [UAE Ambassador to the US Yousef Al] Otaiba said. 'Importantly, the UAE requires the same compliance as the US for the very same reasons: to protect national security and to assist in law enforcement.'"
That no human communications can be allowed to take place without the scrutinizing eye of the US government is indeed the animating principle of the US Surveillance State. Still, this revelation, made in passing on CNN, that every single telephone call made by and among Americans is recorded and stored is something which most people undoubtedly do not know, even if the small group of people who focus on surveillance issues believed it to be true (clearly, both Burnett and Costello were shocked to hear this).
Some new polling suggests that Americans, even after the Boston attack, are growing increasingly concerned about erosions of civil liberties in the name of Terrorism. Even those people who claim it does not matter instinctively understand the value of personal privacy: they put locks on their bedroom doors and vigilantly safeguard their email passwords. That's why the US government so desperately maintains a wall of secrecy around their surveillance capabilities: because they fear that people will find their behavior unacceptably intrusive and threatening, as they did even back in 2002 when John Poindexter's TIA was unveiled.
Mass surveillance is the hallmark of a tyrannical political culture. But whatever one's views on that, the more that is known about what the US government and its surveillance agencies are doing, the better. This admission by this former FBI agent on CNN gives a very good sense for just how limitless these activities are.
How Did This Happen?
The following was posted to a Usenet Group on Tuesday 11 April 1989:
RISKS-LIST: RISKS-FORUM Digest Tuesday 11 April 1989 Volume 8 : Issue 54
FORUM ON RISKS TO THE PUBLIC IN COMPUTERS AND RELATED SYSTEMS ACM Committee on Computers and Public Policy, Peter G. Neumann, moderator
Date: Tue, 11 Apr 89 08:12:04 PDT
From: cas@toad.com (Curtis Spangler)
Subject: NSA and Not Secure AgenciesSan Francisco Chronicle, Chronicle Wire Services, April 11, 1989:
"Computer Group Wary of Security Agency
A public interest group said yesterday that the National Security Agency, the nation's biggest intelligence agency, could exert excessive control over a program to strengthen the security of computer systems throughout the federal government.
The group, Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility - based in Palo Alto - urged key members of Congress to focus "particularly close scrutiny" on the agency's role in helping to implement legislation aimed at safeguarding sensitive but unclassified information in federal computers.
"There is a constant risk that the federal agencies, under the guise of enhancing computer security, may find their programs - to the extent that they rely upon computer systems - increasingly under the supervision of the largest and most secretive intelligence organization in the country," it said."
During the '90s:
SELinux Background
Researchers in the National Information Assurance Research Laboratory of the National Security Agency (NSA) worked with Secure Computing Corporation (SCC) to develop a strong, flexible mandatory access control architecture based on Type Enforcement, a mechanism first developed for the LOCK system. The NSA and SCC developed two Mach-based prototypes of the architecture: DTMach and DTOS. The NSA and SCC then worked with the University of Utah's Flux research group to transfer the architecture to the Fluke research operating system. During this transfer, the architecture was enhanced to provide better support for dynamic security policies. This enhanced architecture was named Flask. The NSA integrated the Flask architecture into the Linux® operating system to transfer the technology to a larger developer and user community. The architecture has been subsequently mainstreamed into Linux and ported to several other systems, including the Solaris™ (Sun Microsystems/Oracle) operating system, the FreeBSD® operating system, and the Darwin (Apple) kernel, spawning a wide range of related work.
http://www.nsa.gov/research/selinux/background.shtml
Images Via Wikipedia, the free encyclopediaClosing Argument
Boston Legal Speech on America and more
Please Click to View Video ~ http://vimeo.com/47165357One Can Lead A Horse To Water, But...
Until there is a solution for this, where one solution has been provided, Nobody will bring Peace to Our Times, feed the hungry, care for the sick, and bake apple pie better than Mom. (otoh) If None of the Above was on voter ballots, it would be a huge step towards recovering U.S. political control, and Nobody gets it.
George Carlin, The American Dream ~ http://vimeo.com/37487342
Oh, I hope that I see you again I never even caught your name As you looked through my window pane ~~ So I'm writing this message today I'm thinking that you'll have a way Of hearing the notes in my tune ~~ Where are you going? Where have you been? I can imagine other worlds you have seen ~~ Beautiful faces and music so serene ~~ So I do hope I see you again My universal citizen You went as quickly as you came ~~ You know the power Your love is right You have good reason To stay out of sight ~~ But break our illusions and help us Be the light ~ Message by Michael Pinder
Without love in the dream, it will never come true. ~ Jerry Garcia/Robert Hunter
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