Fascist Afterlife in Italy

I was cruising down the Prinsengracht today, heading towards home, and wondering what had become of my dear friend Krizushka who last I heard, had moved to the Pijp neighborhood of Amsterdam. I had forgotten about the exciting and bizarre project she is involved in; tonight when I found her on skype, she had just returned from doing research in Italy, and immediately starting talking about it.

“.. I dined with 6 hardcore fascists who invited me to sleep in Mussolini’s house,” she reported. She didn’t sleep there, but she told me she went to his family home in Predappio, saw his bed, along with a mirror that when the light falls on it, you can still see his face. She also noted that these modern fascists still salute each other with the Il Duce/Hitler salute thing. I asked about political parties and she pointed out two: the movimento sociale italiano – the neo fascists, and the alternativa sociale – old school fascists; led by none other than Alessandra Mussolini, granddaughter and outspoken supporter of grandpa.

I did a little research into it, and it is pretty unbelievable: Alessandra Mussolini was elected to the European Parliament!! Not only that, as both she and her party are homophobic, I was extra horrified to find she sits on the parliamentary committee for Civil Liberties, Justice, and Home Affairs – THE HORROR. Oh, and as a sidenote, she posed in Playboy long ago, not that it matters.

K seemed pretty shocked about the whole experience, she probably won’t be thrilled I’m writing about it, but it is pretty ponderous. I think we forget that some history wasn’t so long ago, and is always connected to the present, sometimes in a most disturbing and dangerous way.

bm133 Love Letters and Forgotten Secrets; The Words of Ahmadinejad

Judging by the news stories over the past few days, the US has come to accept that Iran can and should be talked with. While over the past few weeks, the Iranian president himself has been doing alot of talking, interviewing, and travelling. So what about this alleged monster as many western political leaders and media have portrayed him. We know he says some pretty contreversial things, but what else is he saying? This podcast looks into his recent words and rehashes Iran Contra, still very important it todays situation.

Links:
The Famous Letter
The Spiegel Interview
Iran-Contra on Wikipedia
and I mentioned Karmabanque Radio

 

Catching Up On Newark Related Issues

As many of ye blog readers know, yours truely was born and raised til his teen years in the ironbound section of the city of Newark, New Jersey. I often feel like the least likely candidate to be someone who came from Newark, especially when so many people around the world equate the city with violence, poverty, and the Sopranos. And while I love watching the Sopranos and the title sequence does get me nostalgic, today as I listen to radio open source, I listened to the words of one of the US’s greatest authors of all time, which reminded me of the city that shaped my childhood and to a larger extent, the life-course of my family from the late 60’s to the present.

Newark CobblestonesI’ve never read a Phillip Roth book, I’m ashamed to say. A tragedy I intend to remedy immediately, after hearing the way he describes his childhood; growing up in what was then Newark’s Jewish-Galician section. He spoke of his father, who was an insurance salesman, going door-to-door throughout the city, and how he knew every street and how every person made a living. And how after the riots in the 60’s, his father was like someone in shock, who would never recover from such a blow.

It reminded me of all my grandparents and the different jobs they had. Of my parents and brother, and their work for the city’s school system. I don’t know every street in Newark, but I like to pretend I do. The few times I get to walk around there each year, even in the Portuguese-Brazilian section, I feel like a stranger who sticks out like a sore thumb. As a child I think I felt the same way, yet still I love the city of my birth. I daydream of what it would be like to return and become a crusading journalist there. Much like Phillip Roth, who said that after living in Europe for some time, he suddenly realized that his home city was like an

“atlantis… a lost city..prague… the west bank.. a place that had a great historical fall.. and is still falling”

Of course I’m not Phillip Roth. Far from it. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling a bond with the man, and missing a city that probably doesn’t want me anymore, much like it doesn’t seem to want anything.

Still, I keep my eye on what’s happening. I see the new mayor, who might be a breath of fresh air. But I can also still see the wounds of the fallen city, where a perpetual state of corruption, despair, and disfunction, seem like an impossible weight to lift.

This Man Has a Name… His Name is Henry Paulson

I went with an obscure movie/reality post title today, but I’m going to talk about neither the new treasury secretary of the US nor the film.

I’m also not going to talk about the Iranian president’s interview with Der Spiegel that D-Rock just pointed out to me. Not yet.. I’ve something special planned for it in my podcast in the coming days.

Instead, today I have to turn my attention to Indonesia. Several days have now passed since the 6.5 earthquake and the death toll of over 5,000 continues to rise. And to further complicate things a volcano is now spilling lava within the earthquake’s area. Of course, as of this morning, 27 countries had already offerred help in the form of people/stuff/money. But it is such a difficult part of the world, not only because of what seems like a large amount of natural disasters, year after year, but because despite its wealth in natural resources and the fact that the clothes on your back are probably made there – it is still the under-developed world, where the average person has little in the way of emergency measures and options and the government certainly doesn’t seem to make it priority number one that their nation be equipped to handle various levels of natural disaster emergencies.

For the willing and able, I refer you to the Java Earthquake Relief Wiki, where you may find some role you can play as a citizen of the same planet. And to best keep up to speed via blogs, use the WorldWideHelpTeam.

bm132 Summer of Yeast 2006, Madge Weinstein and the MacDocMan Take on Circumcision

A break from my usual style of podcast. Madge Weinstein passed through Amsterdam yesterday, before eating her way to Hungary, she and I went to visit the famed Dutch vlogger and pro-foreskin crusader, the MacDocMan. I should note that he didn’t know he was being recorded initially, but I thought the conversation was interesting and fun and hopefully he agrees because otherwise I’m sure he can afford a lawyer and I certainly can’t. If you’re fragile and you can’t stand talk about genitals, this show is not for you… wimp.

Useful Links:

MacDocMan’s Vlog on Male Circumcision
Madge Weinstein Yeasts Across Europe
Is the Stock Market on the Verge of Collapse?

 

Buried in Children Data

It’s Saturday night so nobody is reading this. Except you thousand+ subscribers, you’ll be reading this back at the office on monday.. hope the weekend was fun.

Madge Weinstein is talking to me from some expensive on-plane internet access. Which sounds fancy but actually the plane is not in the air. Actually according to Madge, the plane is “broken.” The saga continues.

I started researching the topic of children and the state of children’s lives around the world, for a podcast. I have a tendency to look at charts and seek percentages and figures that shed light on some undeniable fact. Then I start to consider my excessive focus on stats and numbers, there’s always more to a story than just that.

Unicef has it’s Millennium Development Goals. And apparently, from what I witness through both their vlog and podcast, they’re well on the way towards achieving things like, access to safe drinking water, school for boys and girls, proper nutrition/vitamins, etc. Yet other goals seem unreachable in the current global context, especially those involving keeping children out of conflict zones. I saw a figure recently somewhere – again with the numbers – it read “number of UN soldiers on the ground in Darfur: None.”

Whether its Darfur or any other corner of the world, where children suffer, die, and are born everyday into terrible situations, it’s mindblowing how relatively little is being done. While the UN is constantly criticized for different problems and alleged uselessness according to some, bodies within the UN, such as UNICEF, WFP, and the UNHCR have people who have dedicated their lives to DIRECT ACTION. To feeding the hungry. To healing the sick. To helping find solutions to important problems, which the world has the knowledge and capability to fix – if it wants to. They don’t make political speeches, complete with empty promises about money, security, personel, and supplies. They don’t just write a blog post, or compose a song, or forward an E-petition – they put themselves on the line… their physical self.

And while I admire those who speak up in the face of tremendous odds. While I cheer for the independent, activist voice. My greatest respect goes to those in the field… because they make the sacrifice that I have not.