20170127 (greater love)

Native of Olympia WA, Rachel Corrie,* 1979--2003 )was inspired to put herself between 
an Israeli bulldozer (American-made) and the home of a Palestinian pharmacist and his
family as a non-violent action to stop further Israeli seizure of land in Gaza.

The Veterans for Peace in Olympia

Call themselves the Rachel Corrie

Chapter after a native twenty-three

Year old woman who was crushed

To death by an Israeli driving an

American-made bulldozer in the

Gazan city of Rafah destroying

Palestinian homes, in a seizure

Of the land for settlements. I

Was reminded of the incident

Many times as I drove up 4th

(One of two major streets through 

Olympia proper, Fourth going up

From the Sound to the east, and 

State, one block north, from the

East to the water—a circuit 

I made at least once daily) and

Passed the marquee of the theater

Where Harlequin Productions 

Was staging My Name Is Rachel 

Corrie. Drawing from Ms. Corrie’s

Considerable writings, emails home, 

Her diary, notes as an activist 

With the International Solidarity

Movement, Alan Rickman, the 

Late English actor, and Katharine

Viner, a journalist with The Guardian,

Edited her words into the play

Which opened first in London

In 2005 and since has been 

Performed all over the world,

Translated into Arabic, French,

Greek, Hebrew, Italian, and Spanish. 

I saw it Thursday night in the 

Local production directed by

Jeffrey Painter and performed by

Kira Batcheller, an actor well

Known in northwest theater,

Who, as I stated in the post play

Audience commentary, did a 

Yeoman’s job bringing ninety

Minutes of Ms. Corrie’s prose

To life as a student, an activist,

Ultimately a martyr. I’m not 

Reviewing the play. I’ve no

Credentials for that. Although 

The highest praise I could 

Conceive is buying tickets 

For everyone to see it, my 

Resources might cover only

My son and his wife. The rest

Of you will have to make do 

With my good intentions. As

We rose at its end to applaud

The lady to my left said she

Could not stay for the “seminar”

With the actor and director.

“I’m too moved right now” she

Told me, her voice quavering.

I didn’t see her as I was daubing

My eyes with my handkerchief.

c. J.S.Manista, 2017
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2WxfcWUVEs

20170126 (method)

David Brooks, tactless and smug, was essentially right in observing that however well attended and cathartic, marches are politically ineffective for accomplishing real change

Among all the calls to resist

There are already being heard

Whispers of cooperation, as 

In Warren’s vote to approve

Ben Carson as Secretary of 

Housing and Urban Development.

Why such a giveaway?

Democrats are thinking it

Will be of no value to appear

Dead set against any and every

Proposal of Dump’s administration.

Better to give in here and be able

To lure some sympathetic

Republicans to break ranks on

Important issue like repeal of

The Affordable Care Act which

Would wreak immediate damage.

Carson will be only titular head

Of the agency and will have to

Depend on his lessers for guidance

In even the smallest matters. Right

Now who cares if he’s a complete

Mismatch for the job? Why isn’t he

Back in medicine—teaching if his

Gifted hands have grown shaky

With age? There in his field he will

Still be a beacon of accomplishment

And a role model to minority youth.

As impotent head of HUD he will 

Notably be the token in the Dump

Cabinet, a toady to a racist, an

Uncle Tom to the youngsters who

Might have once held him in high

Esteem. So what should be the 

Response of the opposition?

Complete and comprehensive

Resistance to any and all of Dump’s

Agenda? Or caving in to even the 

Worst wishes in the hope of a few

Crumbs brushed from the tables

Of the corporate controlled state?

Speaking as a former Warren donor

And supporter I have come to 

Question her judgment on this 

Tactic. I’ve seen it before when

In the negotiations for health

Care reform Obama very publicly

Trusted on Republican promises

Of reasonable cooperation only 

To encounter total defiance.

Even Romney turned on his own

Heritage Foundation model and

Called it wrong for the nation as

A whole. Whimper as you will

Liberal Democrats. Progressives

Now is not the time to close your

Eyes hoping divine intervention

Will spare you from the onslaught.

The collision will come and be worse

Than in your imagination. People will

Tire of resistance marches as they do 

Of charitable crises and appeals with

Compassion fatigue. There is only

One true way to derail the juggernaut:

Absolute and utter resistance to

Even their good wishes. Cry “These

Wishes are not good enough. Make 

Them better,” and hold out for 

What the people really want. In 

Other words follow their example 

From the last eight years. Win on

Redistricting and let your primaries

Bring on true progressives pledged

To the electorate not to the donors.

Learn from your mistakes.

c. 2016, J.S.Manista

20170120 (keeper)

The waves were higher that afternoon, the sky dark with rain.

This raft has shelter, the other was simply flat, laden with harvest in two large polyethylene bags.

High winds blew the water in

My little section of the sound

Like ocean’s waves, two to three

Feet crest to trough, rocking the

Geoduckers* in the boat roughly 

Crashing against their raft.

I couldn’t tell what they were 

Up to as the little boat powered

Around the raft bearing what

Appeared to be two huge white

Bags of harvest. My guess was

They’d be swamped if they

Transferred the bags to the boat.

One of them clambered onto 

The raft rocking unevenly as

The waves rose and dropped.

Its flat surface was shiny with

The rain and I knew he’d soon

Be tossed overboard, but his 

Boots amazingly didn’t slip.

I watched a while waiting

For him to hit the water

Any moment. They seemed

To be trying to tie the boat 

To the raft but the unrelenting

Waves frustrated their every

Attempt. Eventually the man

Aboard the raft pulled on the

Anchoring ropes and lifted it

Into the raft. Then he shifted

To another at the other side.

I turned away briefly and took 

A call. When I looked back

They were gone. The winds

And rain continued as fiercely

As before. They were nowhere

To be seen. I don’t really know 

How long I was not looking

Nor did I know how deep the

Water was where they had been.

I called 911 to report the 

Disappearance on the off

Chance that they truly had

Gone under. It took a while to

Find the right authorities who

Said at first they would alert

Other fishermen who might 

Know where they could have

Gone. I watched the surface

Where they’d been in case

I’d spot an arm or boot 

Thrashing in the waves.

Who cared if they thought me

A nervous Nell reporting an

Event he wasn’t even sure had 

Occurred? Soon the darkness

Of winter night settled over the

Choppy water. Only the sound

Of branches scraping against 

The house could be heard and

The splash of rain from where

The gutters were choked with 

Leaves. That was weeks ago.

The little boats, since then, have

Come and gone, the harvesters

Bobbing with their eerie blue

Lights at night when the tide

Is low. There was no news

Of missing geoduckers. Still I 

Felt more like a busybody 

Bystander, alerting authorities

For no good reason, than like

A man who had taken action,

His brothers’ keeper.

c. J.S.Manista, 2017

*(pronounced goo-ey-duckers) See 

http://filosuferz.blogspot.com/2016/12/20161202-ducks-bucks.html