On the death of Anna Politkovskaya
Careful with that lethal weapon,
you might kill somebody with it
and, what's worse, make martyrs
that you afterwards will nevermore get rid of
since their testimony only will the more be sharpened
and kept furiously alive if they are killed for it,
you clumsy hooligans, that make a mess out of a decent work,
a brilliant journalist world famous for her courage
and her boldness to report on all the murders
and atrocities of our authorities
incriminating our whole government;
and you, deranged torpedoes,
just walk in and make a carnage out of a celebrity
respected and adored by all the world of conscience freedom fighters
and a lovely woman, and a mother at that, also,
like the idiots you are, instead of simply forcing her abroad,
no matter how, thus silencing and keeping her efficiently away,
like the Chinese do
with whoever dares to implicate the criminal authorities.
What can we say? You made a mess of it,
now everyone call us accountable,
and we can not even defend it.
All that I can say is, the less said, the better.
– Vladimir Putin.
Giuliana Sgrena has written a book about it, "Friendly wars".
Another brave journalist
An investigating correspondent of the war scene in Iraq,
she made sure to be friends with everyone
and most especially with the Iraqis and all common people
but was shocked to see how by the mere existence of the war
all people became brutalized and alienated
and especially her friends, the common people, the Iraqis;
and before the war was ended she was kidnapped by Iraqis
for no purpose, just because she happened to be foreign.
After a few weeks they realized they had no reason to keep her as hostage,
so she was released and could return in safety to her friends.
In safety? With her as a bodyguard was her best friend,
and as they came back to the lines of the Americans
they opened fire on her without any warning.
She was well protected by her friend the bodyguard
who shielded her with his own body
but was shot to death himself - by the Americans,
the leaders of this "friendly war".
The incident led to a crisis in her country's government,
the Berlusconi government of Italy,
who enthusiastically and uncritically had joined up with Bush.
She just told the truth and risked her life for telling it,
investigating what went really on behind the war scenes
and is clear about it: US loaded the Iraqi government
of Saddam Hussein with mass destruction weapons
for the use against Iran in that war twenty years ago.
When Bush embarked on this war in Iraq some years ago
it was with the excuse that Saddam Hussein still
had all those mass destruction weapons and was dangerous,
which proved a fable, since he did not have them any more.
So America gave fuel to that oven,
that got burning hot in Bagdad with Saddam Hussein,
and then sat down on it,
and that is why the US arse is burning in Iraq.
Her name is Giuliana Sgrena. She is still alive
and continues risking her own life
to build the bulwark of democracy by sticking to the truth
and making it well heard and documented.
9-11 and all that
When anger hits you on the nose
the urge to strike back gets on overwhelming,
but you can't strike back while still your nose is bleeding,
you just have to swallow it and bide your time,
and as your anger thus is laid to rest
you soon forget about it,
and the motivation disappears
to do something about it,
and thus nothing sensible gets done
about the insult, which remains
buried alive, where it infests and grows
until it reaches some infection stage,
and then the trouble is completely introvert
like a sore inner wound you only feel but cannot dress
and turns perhaps into some metastasis.
Still, that is far better than to actually strike back
in blindness, hatred and revenge
of short-sighted brain-bankruptcy
with no idea of the inevitable consequences.
Thus we have this vicious circle of political insanity,
each madman of his own fanatical establishment
just thinking of his own group egoistic interests,
manipulated into power for destructive reasons,
like the Bush impostor in the White House
stealing presidency from Al Gore, whose main concern
is universal welfare, global warming problems and the future,
while the short-sighted impostor lunacy
by sheer incompetence turns international discussions into failures
triggering the 9-11 sabotage attacks against civilisation,
which politically then are turned into a cracy war merry-go-round
manipulated forth against Afghanistan at first and then Iraq
by the oil mafia governing the president –
and thus is world politics turned into a mess of trouble
just to close the eyes to much more vital problems
like the melting ices in Antarctica and Greenland
that will drown the world if nothing brings it to a halt,
natural problems of man's own short-sighted making
that concerns humanity, the future and all nature
clinically free from egoistic thinking and vendettas –
say no more, I stifle and can only pray and cry,
forgetting all about my bleeding nose.
by: Kathy Lockhart 2006-09-11
som alltid finns där kvar att trampa på,
ett trevligt grönt som alltid grönskar
och som efter snö och vinter kommer fram igen.
Nej, gamla vänner är som gamla rötter
och det nödvändigaste i livet.
Därför talar vi om gräsets rötter,
som ger nytt liv när vi tar av skor och strumpor
och går nakna på den friska jorden
i direktkontakt med mor naturen,
livets ursprung och den mull vi alltid återvänder till,
som pryds och kläds av gräsets trygga grönska,
all den vänskap som består och alltid finns där kvar,
hur mycket vi än trampar på den.
Old friends are not just like old grass
which always grows under your feet to trample on,
a nice reliable green which is there to remain
and always to return after the winter's ice and snow.
No, old friends are like necessary roots,
the most important thing in life.
And therefore we depend on our grass roots,
which gives new life when we doff our shoes and stockings,
walking with our naked feet directly on the ground
in wholesome closest touch with mother nature,
our life's origin, the dust which we invariably return to,
which is constantly dressed up for us in lushness,
all that friendship which remains to grow forever
independently on how much we keep trampling on it.
The Irish argument
Going down the bleeding heart of Ireland
the depth of history reveals innumerable wounds
like of a raped mother,
since Ireland was christened long before the English,
who for centuries were arduously compelled to seek protection
against civil wars and barbarism in most remote and isolated places
such as Lindisfarne and Iona just to survive,
while Ireland was gloriously alive and making harps
committing all their life to culture and to music.
All we could do about Britain was to pity their barbarity
as they oppressed us in the middle ages,
occupied us and turned Ireland into endless civil wars
and slaughtered us through centuries
to crown their senseless cruelty by ethnic cleansing,
planting protestantic Englishmen in Ulster,
the worst thing that England ever did to Ireland;
and so we pitied them and even more
when they went into the Great War
partaking in the massacre of humankind
and of civilization,
at which point the best thing we could do
was simply finally once and for all to leave them on their own;
and thus we still continue pitying them today
but think they should be better off without us.
Den falska musikern - the mistaken musician
Vad är väl hans skicklighet värd
när han dränker sin gåva i missbruk?
För mig är de musiker falska
som hänger sig åt stimulantia
och därmed förstör sin musik,
denna gåva av Gud som de gavs att förvalta.
För mig är det inte musik
om det driver sin musiker till självdestruktivitet,
som tyvärr blivit de flesta musikers öde
som blott tjänat jazzen och rocken.
Musik är för mig blott musik
om den ren är och leder till renhet
och så leder sinnet till en större klarhet
än blott nykterheten från spriten.
Musik som förleder till sprit och till missbruk
är inte musik utan ljudmissbruk endast,
och bättre är då vilken tystnad som helst;
ty den allra mest rena och sanna musiken
är den som hörs endast i tystnaden.
What's his skill worth
if he only drowns it in booze?
For me, those musicians are false
who abandon themselves to addiction
and thereby destroy their own music,
that gift of divinity that they were given to cultivate.
That isn't music to me
which compels the musician to paths of destruction,
which has been the destiny of most musicians
that gave themselves only to jazz and to rock.
For me, music is only music
if it is enough pure and leads but to purity
and to a higher degree of spiritual clarity
than just sobriety from common drunkenness.
Music which tempts to abuse of narcotics and liquor
is not really music but merely sound abuse,
better than which any silence would be;
for the most true and pure kind of music
is that which can only come to you in silence.
Musikern - the Musician
Ett offer för sin egen skönhet och sin överbegåvning?
Många musiker har varit detta, och ej endast Mozart,
som bara var den första.
Genom sin initiering i en skönhetsvärld
som transcenderar alla andra
äger musikern den fallenheten
för att värre bli bedragen av sig själv än andra.
Genom sin harmoniska uppfattning
och förmågan att uppfatta livet som musik
kan hon tyvärr bli grymmare bedragen
och på ett mer djupgående plan,
då hennes satsning ej är bara livet utan själen,
och om den då blir bedragen,
till exempel av en utnyttjare eller livsmissbrukare
måste fallet, katastrofen bli långt mer förödande
än om den bara var materiell.
En musiker kan genom sina musikaliska insikter
blott se sina medmänniskor positivt,
då hennes grundinställning är idealistisk,
så idealistisk att den utesluter möjligheten av dess motsats.
Därmed uppstår fall som Schubert, Schumann,
Hugo Wolf, Tjajkovskij, Mendelssohn, Bellini,
krossade av vad som väckte dem ur deras drömmar
som var goda och det högsta goda
och som bara kunde väckas av dess motsats,
av vad som kan liknas bara vid en dödlig våldtäkt.
Det är musikerns dilemma: hennes ideal
kan ej förstås av vad som saknar detta ideal,
hon ser en extra skönhetsdimension
som grymt förnekas av de som ej fattar den –
av okunskap, av dumhet eller av likgiltighet,
det dummaste av allt.
Och ändå, trots så många musikers personliga fatala katastrofer,
så är de så långt lyckligare än de stackare
som aldrig kan förstå musik.
A victim to her beauty and transcendent talent?
Many geniuses of music have been this, not only Mozart,
who was only number one.
Through initiation in a world of beauty
that transcends all others
the musician has a liable propensity
to more than others be the victim of a self-deceit.
Through his harmonious outlook
and capacity to see life through the temperament of music
she unfortunately can more cruelly be deceived
and on a much profounder level,
since her bid is more than just her life but even all her soul,
and if then it is being dragged down and deceived,
for instance by an opportunist or a life-abuser,
the catastrophe must be much more severe
than if it only was material.
Through his poetical and musical temperament
the true musician can but see her fellow beings positively
since her basic attitude is pure idealism
and so idealistic that it must exclude the contrary.
Thereby we have cases such as Schubert, Schumann,
Hugo Wolf, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn, Bellini,
crushed by the awakening from their ideal dreams
which but consisted of the highest good
and which could but be wakened by its contrary,
by what can only be described as mortal violation.
That is the dilemma of musicians: their ideal
can not be understood by those who do not have it,
they see an additional dimension and a life of beauty
which is cruelly denied by those who do not grasp it –
from ignorance, stupidity or just indifference,
which is the most stupid thing of all.
And still, in spite of so many musicians’ personal catastrophes,
they are so much more fortunate and happier than those poor devils
who can never understand what music is.