Artists from various parts of the world collaborated to make this song in solidarity with Palestine (see YouTube video below). Today, in Barcelona, a group of activists will try to deliver a letter to president-elect Obama at the US consulate. This action will be followed by a larger demonstration in the Plaça Sant Jaume.
That's all the news for now... Oh ps, we are trying to write up a little story about Clear Channel (the radio behemoth) for the Barcelona audience since the city's bike-sharing program, Bicing, is apparently owned by Clear Channel's international division. If anyone has any good contacts, please let me know. Thanks!
Also, don't forget to check out some of my new photos, from Palestine rallies to Barcelona's okupa movement.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Stop State Violence... From Greece and Gaza to Colombia and California
I'm shaking right now. Everything is too much. Twenty-two year old Oscar Grant is going to be buried today. The .40 caliber hole that Oakland's bravest left in his back will be cleaned, dressed, unnoticeable. When my grandma died, the morticians told us that it's difficult to recreate the smile on the deceased; something about their muscles pulling downwards. I wonder what Oscar's face will reveal.
"No, no! Use the Taser, not the gun! Anything but the gun! Please, I'm still young."
(San Francisco Chronicle, listen up: When the police kill a person of color, it's never a mistake.)
I also wonder if those three young children whose tears and blood and confusion were put on display - "live from Gaza" - have died from their wounds, like so many will. Yesterday, España celebrated the Three Kings Day, the Epiphany, or the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus. As cluster bombs tore tiny hands off hundreds of little baby Jesus', Spanish economists worried that the sales of smaller roscones (the traditional ringed sweet bread baked with a little bean inside) was a strong indication of a weak economy.
"We are Palestinians, men, women and infants. We resist. We are Oscar Grant, too."
President Uribe will receive the Medal of Freedom from George Bush, along with Howard of Australia and Blair of England, for his defense of liberty by way of a generous use of American-made bullets. On December 28th, in the F.C. Barcelona soccer stadium, a group of activists unfurled banners during the Catalonian-Colombian soccer match. Between cries of "Hay que darle plátano pa' que coja fuerza, no joda!" and Catalonian independence flags, private security guards fought with the activists to pull down the banner. Freedom of expression was squashed, much like Colombia's plátano-deprived soccer team. (See article, photos).
Que no olvidemos. Que la lucha coja fuerza en el 2009, no joda. We are many, and let's be angry. If you have doubts about rioting, remember this: "Motherf--k a window. Radio Raheem is dead."
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Planes and Cava: Bad Mix for New Year
Barcelona - January 1st, 2009.
The following is a snippet of a note written from one smart, wise cousin to his equally smart(-ass), wise(-cracking) cousins.
"Happy New Year! Hope you all had a good time... were you all together? Must have been fun. So I'll cut right to the chase, since you are all dying to know what your really smart cousin wants to let you know.
"Do you know what happens when you stay up all night on New Year's Eve, get really drunk on cava, and have to catch a flight to Italy at 6 in the morning? You end up in the airport, really drunk and really tired, fall asleep at the gate, and wake up 5 minutes after your plane has taken off.
"So take it from your wise, hungover cousin... don't waste money and feel like a complete idiot. In other words - don't do what I did!
"So here I sit, once again in Barcelona, looking like a complete jackass, instead of seeing the mountainous north of Italy, having to pick up used beer cans and olive seeds.
"Happy New Year! Love, Mico*"
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
The following is a snippet of a note written from one smart, wise cousin to his equally smart(-ass), wise(-cracking) cousins.
"Happy New Year! Hope you all had a good time... were you all together? Must have been fun. So I'll cut right to the chase, since you are all dying to know what your really smart cousin wants to let you know.
"Do you know what happens when you stay up all night on New Year's Eve, get really drunk on cava, and have to catch a flight to Italy at 6 in the morning? You end up in the airport, really drunk and really tired, fall asleep at the gate, and wake up 5 minutes after your plane has taken off.
"So take it from your wise, hungover cousin... don't waste money and feel like a complete idiot. In other words - don't do what I did!
"So here I sit, once again in Barcelona, looking like a complete jackass, instead of seeing the mountainous north of Italy, having to pick up used beer cans and olive seeds.
"Happy New Year! Love, Mico*"
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
¡Libre Palestina! Free Palestine!
Estoy en la sala, surfeando la Web, pensando en la cena de anoche, su toque que despertó emociones enterradas vivas, una conversación teórica sobre la violencia y la no violencia repitiéndose en la cabeza. El sol entra rojo por las ventanas. Nina Simone arrullando ligeramente al fondo, mezclada con los pitos y sonidos de motocicletas de afuera. Impotentes, pesados sienten mis dedos. Un boquete en el pecho, un balazo imaginario, Todo por Palestina. Todo por ella maldita.
Más información: aquí, aquí y aquí, entre otros...
Protesta en Barcelona aquí.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Obama Caganer
One of this year's most popular Christmas Nativity addition, Barack Obama is seen here taking a crap in Alex's hand. The caganer (the "r" is silent) is a old figure in the Catalán Christmas tradition, and for you faithful, has been (grudgingly) approved by the Catholic Church. The original caganer is dressed like a Catalán farmer, with a typical red barretina, or beret. If you look closely at the pic, you can see that Obama is pooping: the defecating caganer is seen as a symbol of fertility and luck, and is usually placed somewhere outside Jesus's barn in the Nativity scene. I don't like to advertise for big companies, but for those of you who want your very own caganer, check this out.
Click on the picture to go to my Flickr page. (That's enough I-thought-anarchist-don't-believe-in-technology jabs.)
The caganer is also closely related to the cagatío, which is a log with a painted face, a barretina, and a blanket, which is something of a Catalán Santa Claus. Last night, at Alex's parents' house, we all gathered around the cagatío and in keeping with tradition, beat it with a stick until it pooped us out a gift. I'll put pics up later. The song you sing as you beat the cagatío varies by family and region, while the one we sang went like this:
"Caga Tío, d'avellanes i turrons; tu que ets el meu padrí, caga turrons per a mi!"
Which translates roughly into: "Poop out some almonds and chocolate, Uncle; as you are my godfather, poop some chocolate for me!"
If you didn't think that Catalán society was already scatalogical enough, get this: when Alex's baby nephew, Pau, happily crapped his pants, everyone rushed into the bedroom to watch him being changed, while I sipped a nice Rioja wine at the table with Alex's French-Algerian aunt, Marcelle. We laughed our asses off (no poop-related pun intended).
Click on the picture to go to my Flickr page. (That's enough I-thought-anarchist-don't-believe-in-technology jabs.)
The caganer is also closely related to the cagatío, which is a log with a painted face, a barretina, and a blanket, which is something of a Catalán Santa Claus. Last night, at Alex's parents' house, we all gathered around the cagatío and in keeping with tradition, beat it with a stick until it pooped us out a gift. I'll put pics up later. The song you sing as you beat the cagatío varies by family and region, while the one we sang went like this:
"Caga Tío, d'avellanes i turrons; tu que ets el meu padrí, caga turrons per a mi!"
Which translates roughly into: "Poop out some almonds and chocolate, Uncle; as you are my godfather, poop some chocolate for me!"
If you didn't think that Catalán society was already scatalogical enough, get this: when Alex's baby nephew, Pau, happily crapped his pants, everyone rushed into the bedroom to watch him being changed, while I sipped a nice Rioja wine at the table with Alex's French-Algerian aunt, Marcelle. We laughed our asses off (no poop-related pun intended).
Monday, December 22, 2008
“Nativa o Extranjera, La Misma Clase Obrera!”
Around 5:30pm, December 20th, in the Plaza Sant Jaume, in the Gothic neighborhood of Barcelona, some 500 immigrants started up a boisterous march through the neighborhood’s narrow and winding streets. That chant - “Native-born or foreigner, we’re the same working class!” could be heard all the way to Las Ramblas*, where confused or interested holiday shoppers struggled to discern what was being said. This march wrapped up ten days of protests across Spain (www.redi.org.es) and other parts of Europe by grassroots organizations, NGOs and communities, in commemoration of the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (December 10th) and the December 18th International Day of Migrants. But the protestors - from various parts of Africa, the Middle East and South Asia - were also on the streets to denounce the new European Union’s anti-immigrant law passed in the summer which, among other things, allows for people to be detained up to 18 months before being deported. Spain initially put a cap at 40 days of possible detention, but last week raised it to 70 days. It was a very energetic and positive march and I promised myself after the march that I need to go buy a camera...
Which I did. After buying my camera from the Miró electronics chain store, I understood more about American freedoms, and why the US launches wars for “Enduring Freedom.” With Iraq, the US took on more than it could chew. We should have started with something easy, like Spain. Take for instance, the Miró store I entered. I was extremely frustrated that the overworked employee (here, an 8-hour day is pretty much 10-1, then a two hour power lunch, then continuing on from 3-8) kept forcing me to choose a camera without letting me see what was in the box! They didn’t even have batteries in the camera so you could take silly pictures of yourself and leave it for the next shopper! If that’s not a lack of freedom, I don’t know what is! Spain is almost there, we just need to bomb them into the free world. Maybe later, I’ll put up a picture of the obnoxious street-side recycling bins: every time you put in your recyclables, you have to force them through a tiny hole and you get your hands dirty. It makes you want to just throw everything in a trash can, and let New Jerseyites sort it out at the landfills.
And then today, December 22, I went to a talk about the Congo, and how the need for coltan is fueling the war there. Coltan is short for columbo-tantalite, a mineral used to make electronics, from your totally unnecessary iTouch to your very necessary MacBook Black (wassuppp, Natty!). Basically, US, German and Chinese companies are paying off different actors in the conflict to safeguard their mines (much like the blood diamonds of Leonard Dicaprio fame; speaking of, Leonardo is involved in a campaign to save the endangered mountain gorilla from the effects of coltan mining... what a nice guy), and in the process, some 2 million black people have been killed. If I ever get down to the Congo, I’ll fill you in on more information, but for now, when T-mobile tells you that “since you have been a faithful customer for two years, you are eligible” for another useless bluetooth phone with touch vibration and a cool 2-inch HDTV screen, tell them to you-know-what.
Oh, so welcome to my blog. I hope to keep you all up to date on what I get involved in here. If you have links that you want to add, please let me know. I want to add pics one day and audio. I have never done this before, so any help is much appreciated!!
*Las Ramblas comes from the Arabic word al-rambl, meaning “creek” or “river”, because a river used to run down that area, later to be turned into an open sewer canal before being turned into a tourist paradise. I like to think about all those tourist walking down Las Ramblas when shit was still oozing down there.
Armando and Madai, están en mis pensamientos.
Which I did. After buying my camera from the Miró electronics chain store, I understood more about American freedoms, and why the US launches wars for “Enduring Freedom.” With Iraq, the US took on more than it could chew. We should have started with something easy, like Spain. Take for instance, the Miró store I entered. I was extremely frustrated that the overworked employee (here, an 8-hour day is pretty much 10-1, then a two hour power lunch, then continuing on from 3-8) kept forcing me to choose a camera without letting me see what was in the box! They didn’t even have batteries in the camera so you could take silly pictures of yourself and leave it for the next shopper! If that’s not a lack of freedom, I don’t know what is! Spain is almost there, we just need to bomb them into the free world. Maybe later, I’ll put up a picture of the obnoxious street-side recycling bins: every time you put in your recyclables, you have to force them through a tiny hole and you get your hands dirty. It makes you want to just throw everything in a trash can, and let New Jerseyites sort it out at the landfills.
And then today, December 22, I went to a talk about the Congo, and how the need for coltan is fueling the war there. Coltan is short for columbo-tantalite, a mineral used to make electronics, from your totally unnecessary iTouch to your very necessary MacBook Black (wassuppp, Natty!). Basically, US, German and Chinese companies are paying off different actors in the conflict to safeguard their mines (much like the blood diamonds of Leonard Dicaprio fame; speaking of, Leonardo is involved in a campaign to save the endangered mountain gorilla from the effects of coltan mining... what a nice guy), and in the process, some 2 million black people have been killed. If I ever get down to the Congo, I’ll fill you in on more information, but for now, when T-mobile tells you that “since you have been a faithful customer for two years, you are eligible” for another useless bluetooth phone with touch vibration and a cool 2-inch HDTV screen, tell them to you-know-what.
Oh, so welcome to my blog. I hope to keep you all up to date on what I get involved in here. If you have links that you want to add, please let me know. I want to add pics one day and audio. I have never done this before, so any help is much appreciated!!
*Las Ramblas comes from the Arabic word al-rambl, meaning “creek” or “river”, because a river used to run down that area, later to be turned into an open sewer canal before being turned into a tourist paradise. I like to think about all those tourist walking down Las Ramblas when shit was still oozing down there.
Armando and Madai, están en mis pensamientos.
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