Observe and Report Brixton

Brixton
Scenes from Brixton by linniekin on flickr.

It is the second day of violence on the streets of London. Seems like something from a novel or a news report from 1979, but this is going on right now in 2011.  I’ve never been fully in tune with what is happening on the streets there before but in times of crisis like this I get reports and information not from the mainstream media but via trusted contacts in that region.  If you are concerned about what is happening and seeking information, OR – if you’re there are you have something to report, I recommend doing so using the crowdmap for Brixton that is up and running.  Go there, follow the simple instructions for reporting, and you’ll be helping not only to tell the world what is going on, but also to get more accurate information that might help those most immediately at risk.

The Language of War

The De-Landmined Kabul Golf Club

Afghanistan is a country of many ethnicities, tribes and languages, which many people can explain to you if you have the time to listen.  But there is one language you don’t often read about that is spoken throughout Kabul and no doubt the nation. In café’s and restaurants, over lunch and late into the night after dinner, Afghans and foreigners alike, are speaking the language of war.

The language of war consists of words connected to violence and armed conflict, both in the present and the past tense.  It is made up of the saddest and most terrifying stories; about murder, kidnapping, threats, moments of extreme panic, and people who have been lost to any of these.  It is spoken by those who have been here for 5 years or 5 days, spoken while passing the rice or just passing time at a friend’s house. Beyond any of this, it is spoken with an ease and regularity that makes it one of the most widely spoken and understood languages in the nation.

I find history to be one of the most important and interesting topics one can discuss, no matter how exciting or mundane. I find personal experiences to be a constant source for learning and inspiration. Yet after almost one month listening the accounts of what it was like in what terrible situation, from both participants and observers, I find myself hating history and personal experience.  Unable to listen to the language of war because something about it seems so bad for everyone in the conversation.

Surely there are import lessons to be learned from discussing these topics.  Surely if our nations, our fellow humans, can carry out all the terrible actions of war, then we can confront them and not be afraid to examine these events among friends. Why should the language of war be considered taboo, when hiding the truth can only serve to keep us from learning lessons and not repeating mistakes.

While I know how important testimony and understanding are, especially in the context of war or violence, I am taken aback by the language of war.  I want to stop the stories. I want to turn up the music. As strange as it may seem, the more the language of war is spoken, the less meaning it has to me, the previously outspoken citizen journalist.

Latin American Soldiers, Unite

Most of you know that I’m a big fan of the Euronews Nocomment video podcast. The combination of pure video with the original sounds without commentary changes the experience of watching things happen in the world.

This morning I watched and rewatched as Ecuadorian soldiers walked through the tropical forrest in formation. Heavily armed and pointing guns everywhere, in preparation for whatever enemy they are told they may have to face some day soon. Obviously the present enemy they perceive is Colombia, just across the border.

As I watch these soldiers do this, and cut to some other video of both presidents of Ecuador and Venezuela exchanging hostile words with the president of Colombia, I have a vision. That these soldiers in Ecuador would suddenly stop marching, put down their machine guns, turn to the camera and say.. “You know, Colombians are our family, our friends, and our neighbors… we’re not going to shoot at them just because the president says we should.”

It will likely be written off as a naive vision by all those who believe whole heartedly in obeying orders and never asking questions. By now more then ever, why not ask just what the hell these governments are trying to do? Why is one army invading parts of one country and then the other countries threatening to bomb in retaliation? Why do people who know each other, who share so much of the past and present in common, choose to support this kind of logic?

One thing that we’re missing in the world today, from Afghanistan to the Congo to Colombia and on and on… is for people to stop following without questioning. To stop obeying when the orders are to destroy fellow humans, to commit mass murder in response to mass murder.

Selling Death

It is a pretty well known fact that the US is the global leader in arms sales. Some will also have heard that Russia is second. But in fact, if you put together all the European Union numbers, in terms of total arms sales in the last 10 years, they come very close to tying the US. Somehow its not a very publicized fact, Europe sells almost as many weapons as the US.

And who gets those weapons? Which countries in the world? Better yet, which groups in the world? Places where there is civil war? Dictatorships? Or civil wars yet to come? I think of all those child soldiers in the world and wonder where their gun came from? USA? France? Probably both.

Global warming gets a fair amount of play in the media these days. There is even some, though surely not enough, mobilization to do something about it. Yet all over the developed world in all these lovely places with people that are so highly educated and experienced, people are engaging in the arms trade. Making money selling weapons for people to kill each other with. Trading stocks and benefiting while people arm themselves and carry out mass murders in the name of the latest cause or call-to-arms. Even in the US now, the favored presidential candidate Hillary CLinton has become the number one choice of weapons manufacturers… and yet people believe she will bring change and restore some sort of self respect for the nation.

With each passing year that arms dealers post record profits, more people die needlessly in the name of business and strategic defense. If that isn’t a threat to our world, I don’t know what is.

On War and Shooting

Briefly, because the last thing the internets need is another person talking about the Virginia Tech shootings.

If you’ve read the blog for awhile, you know that I normally turn on the CNN or BBC around 1am just to get my daily dose of what the power-elite want the masses to be informed about. And much like you, yesterday I was subjected to wall-to-wall shooting coverage. Oh the shock. Oh the humanity. Oh the repeated faux-sadness and naive-confusion of the news reporters, asking that same old question they actually don’t want answered “how could this happen.”

Look, I don’t know exactly how this happens, but I’d like to throw out a few factoids that should be taken into account.

The United States is a violent nation. Yes, so are some other countries in the world, but few can hold a candle to the US’s capacity and performance when it comes to using violence to kill mass amounts of people over the past… lets say 5 to 50 years. I’m talking about Nuclear Bombs, napalm, smart bombs, land mines, daisy cutters, bunker busters, depleted uranium… the list goes on and on. And whatever age you are, you’ve likely watched plenty of this on TV, or perhaps what is more true these days, you may have used such weapons first hand in a far away country.

What does this have to do with V-tech, or any school shootings anywhere? Probably nothing. Just keep telling yourself that America… probably nothing.

Wheeler Ave

I think it was February 2001. It must have been, because that’s the anniversary month for one of the most terrible shootings of my lifetime to take place in New York City.

As an aspiring and naïve freelance journalist, in between waitering gigs, I decided the anniversary of such a terrible event warranted my presence and some first-hand revisiting. I had never really been to the Bronx, not that I could remember anyway, and I was eager to see the spot, observe the people, smell the air, learn what I could learn; about what had changed since Amadou Diallo was shot 41 one times by police officers.

Somebody rode part of the way with me, but eventually I was on my own and further up the subway line than ever before. I got out and followed my little hand scribbled map that would guide me to the street, to his home. I pictured people standing around. Maybe praying. Maybe a bunch of flowers or statues of saints or something. I wondered if the street would be closed off, maybe because of some big rememberence vigil. I honestly didn’t even know if I had the right day, my only thought was to see what I could see, and share it with those that had chosen to forget the sadness and the pain.

Of course, as usual in life, nothing was as I’d imagined. Nothing exciting happened. No exciting feeling came over me. The air on Wheeler Ave didn’t feel any more or less desperate than the rest of the Bronx. No candle light vigil. No police blockade. Nuthin! A second thought, there may have been some dried out flowers and almost extinguished candles, but nothing that stands out in my memory.

I walked around the block a few times and grew increasingly tired. Heading back to the subway, I glanced one more time towards the house, and pictured that young man standing there. Those final moments. The shots.

I never wrote a single word about it. I think I told a few people the story, but being so uneventful, even the story faded from my story telling.

Why mention it? Obviously with the shooting of Sean Bell, 50 times- who doesn’t think back to it? And the fact that even back in 2001, there wasn’t so much remembering, not that I saw.. maybe that says something. Not much seemed to have changed on Wheeler Ave back then, just like nothing seems to have changed when a young man, the night before his wedding, gets 50 shots fired at him by law enforcement professionals.