Saturday, August 8, 2020

Halifax Harbor, Beirut, Nuclear Weapons

Antinuclear demonstration, Hiroshima/Nagasaki remembrance,
75th anniversary, Olympia Washington August 6th, 2020

Momma said, "Don't keep tons of ammonium nitrate sitting in a big heap near where people live, 'cause someday that shit's gonna go off." But she didn't say it in Canadian or Lebanese.

Travelers to Canada's maritimes are often apprised of the events of the 6 December 1917 when a shipload of ammunition was struck by a passing vessel and exploded in Halifax harbor about 9 AM, killing 2,000 residents and injuring 9,000 more. The explosion was thought equivalent to 2.9 kilotons of TNT and was at the time the world's largest manmade explosion to date. It flattened much of the Richmond district of Halifax and precipitated international relief efforts to medicate the many wounded. It was, one for the history books. Nonetheless I knew nothing of it prior to my visit in the year 2000.

But Halifax was the first thing on my mind on learning of the disastrous explosion in the port of Beirut the evening of August fourth. How could a group of modern, knowledgeable citizens, probably familiar with the chemicals of terror weapons, sit comfortably nearby 2,700 tons of ammonium nitrate stored in a hot warehouse? Had they never heard of Timothy McVeigh? Maybe not, after all they were Lebanese, not Oklahomans.

Well, the damn pile didn't explode the first day, nor the second, nor for many days after until the sixth year of its storage when it finally did explode. Despite the yearly pleas of authorities who recognized the danger, the situation seemed well in hand and demanded no immediate attention.

My next thought though was about a similar situation, recognized as dangerous--imminently so--which has also failed to receive immediate attention. So far this situation hasn't yet gone critical despite its teetering on the knife edge of history for close to seventy years. I refer to the horrific destructive potential of hair-triggered nuclear weapons scattered about the nations of the world: tunneled into prairies, aloft on bombers, roaming wastelands on trucks, and undersea in submarines.

Currently we are in danger of a new arms race of nuclear weapons and delivery systems as the US, North Korea, Russia, China, India, and Pakistan have all recently rattled their nuclear sabres and let existing restrictive treaties expire left and right. Waiting in the wings are the small fry wannabes of Iran, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia who gaze longingly at their future of nuclear threatening among the big boy gangs of the earth.

Can these Rube Goldberg contraptions of Mutually Assured Destruction stay balanced long enough to let humanity think in generational terms? Or as contraptions with an expanding diversity of wobbling intricacies isn't it the bettor's favorite that they won't--sooner than later? Eat, drink, and be merry for the next day, or the day after that, if not tomorrow of course, we shall certainly die.

And on the other hand we shall certainly kill. It won't really make that much difference if we kill in a first strike or we kill just as certainly in retaliation. Some are disturbed by the thought of dying and would like to avoid it at all costs so they make a deal with the devil and relax--as much as is possible--relying on MAD to keep their chestnuts out of the fire. But there are those of us who are equally appalled at the thought of killing people who have personally posed no threat to us, killing in massive, horrendous, tortuous ways that likely will end all life on earth.

How arrogant that course would be--to risk ending the human experiment over some matter of national pride or power! Yet we seem unpersuaded there is any other way--only the way of domination--been that way for centuries and it won't change in the foreseeable, if rather brief, future.

But no man, no nation, can have the authority to risk the world's end, or further, to wreak such suffering on the innocent whether the world ends or not. Powers who propose use of such weapons, stockpile them as reasonable deterrents to obliteration, or constantly rob their citizens of wealth to develop and assemble even more destructive varieties cannot claim they have the authority to do so. Their declared intentions label them as madmen, whether they are heads of democratic or authoritarian states, they have no authority to risk worldwide suicide.

The people of nuclear states have every right to remove such authorities and to dismantle all these instruments of terror and death universally so that humanity can finally be free of fear.


Friday, June 1, 2018

Defending Samantha Bee (and not Roseanne Barr)

Evocative Ivanka

Provocative Ivanka












Sam Bee had every right to call

Ivanka Trump a feckless cunt

On cable TV.  But Roseanne Barr,

Whose hateful racist tweets—even 

Though they were intended

For a private (?) audience of her

Declared “followers”—merited

Loss of a national broadcast TV

Platform. First, Roseanne: In this

Country no one is allowed to deny

The historic oppression of blacks

Or to harbor ignorant opinons

About their descendants except 

The current president for whom

There is--apparently--no hope.

To denigrate recognized powerful

Black women such as Valerie Jarrett 

Or Condoleeza Rice without citing

Justification of some action or policy

Deserving condemnation can 

Only be deemed racist especially

In the light of the hatred implied

In comparing them to apes.

But ABC, foisting Ms. Barr

Back on the national scene,

Knowing full well her cockamamie

Background?  Did they think viewers

Wouldn’t notice? Or were they

Urging us to let bygones be

Bygones? Perhaps they took a shot

In the dark expecting to placate 

The base of the Numbskull-

In-Chief? Or, more plainly, since

Barr gave no reason for likening

Jarrett or Rice to simians and further

Left no course to redeem themselves

Except by not being Black in public

What were we to think? Ms Bee, 

Who too quickly apologized for 

Her prickly slur, is taken to task

Not for her position on Ivanka’s

Behavior but because she, Bee,

Used a "forbidden word" before a

Late night, limited audience.

In this day of open talk about

Pussies (brought on by her father's

Remarks) can one expect the good

Old Saxon coinage NOT be far behind?

“Blowjobs,” once regarded as coarse

Speech of whores and Johns (capital J 

For sex workers' clients; lower-case j 

For toilets) entered our lingua franca 

Thanks to the feckless Bill Clinton, 

Who flagrantly and repeatedly misused

The power of his office to waylay 

A naive intern for a little crotch joy--

Public and family be damned. Ms Bee

Understood the message of Ivanka's

Madonna and child post and noted 

Ivanka might sway her father to

Revise his abhorrent policy of separating

Immigrant children from their parents.

She could wear something low cut and

Incestuously lean against her father

While pleading mercy for immigrant

Families. Ivanka could, but she won't

Since the children of immigrants 

Are no more real to her than their

Mothers. Unlike Roseanne who

Closes the door for all Blacks,

Ms Bee despairs Ivanka will do

The right thing. Critics complain Bee’s

Choice of wording cost audience 

Sympathy on the real issue. I think not

Had Bee stated, “Worthless twat,”

Or “Stupid pussy,” her words wouldn'

Have had the intended effect.

No, like mother to mother, Ivanka’s

Useless preening earned the word 

Women reserve for feckless cunts.



c. 2018, JSManista

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Pacifist Resistance

Make that "men and women refuse to fight"


































Why won’t you join the military, son?

‘Fraid of getting killed? No, sir, 

I said, ‘fraid if I joined I’d kill

Somebody, and that’d be wrong.

No, you got it wrong, son. You’re

Not committing murder. You’re

Defending yourself when you kill

Somebody who’s out to kill you.

Why would he want to kill me

If I clearly didn’t want to kill him?

You’d be carrying a gun, son. Rest

Assured he’d want to kill you. But 

I wouldn’t be carrying a gun. I’d 

Be no threat to him, like a medic.

Then join and be a medic; you 

Wouldn’t be killing anybody.

Can’t do that either, sir. Medics 

Ultimately help send soldiers 

Back to kill. Couldn’t do that,

Sir.  Sure sounds to me like you’re

Afraid of getting killed in combat.

Like I said earlier, I’m afraid of 

Killing in combat, or helping others

To kill in combat. Driving a truck?

Nope, that’s helping in the killing.

Clerking in the office? Nope that’s

Helping in the killing. Breaking codes

To save our men? I think you know 

What I’d say. Where’d you get such

Crazy ideas anyway? In church.

Jesus said not to return evil for evil.

Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.

You see what they did to Jesus? 

Not directly, sir, but I read about the

Crucifixion. You want them to do

That to you? No, sir, not at all.

You want them to do that to your

Brother? No, sir. To your mother?

No, sir, that wouldn’t be right. 

But I don’t think it’s necessary to 

Kill anybody. Look at the First 

World War, killed millions, didn’t

They? Yes. Didn’t have to. Huh?

Ever hear of the Christmas Truce

Of 1914? Yes, where the Germans

And the French sang Christmas 

Carols on Christmas Eve and 

Played football on No Man’s Land

On Christmas Day—no shots,

No shells for better than a whole 

Day? Yes, but the war started right

Up the next day. Didn’t have to.

What if they agreed to have a

Christmas Truce for the whole

Twelve Days of Christmas? By

Epiphany they would have realized

They could put off the war altogether

And return to their wives and families

In safety and there would have been no

Millions killed. Well, young man, 

That sounds all fine and good but

If you didn’t resume the war we’d

Have to shoot enough of you until

You did start shooting again.

You’re right, sir. Pacifists accept 

They’re likely to be killed in a war.

But you couldn’t kill us all. Either you’d

Get sick of your killing, or others

Would stop you long before you

Got to the millions. 






c. J.S.Manista, 2017         

Monday, September 4, 2017

Fashion 2017

Lifestyles

Clothes



















Perhaps it is only my quirky

Desire to live as a monk 

In simple clothing or perhaps

It is my being a man that 

Makes me bristle at the fashion

Industry, that whole "worry 

About what you wear or what

You shall put on" way of life. 

I know these people need jobs.

I know it requires their bountiful

Creative talent. I realize even I

Love and desire beautiful things.

But here my inner Puritan rages

Forth like a lion. When we are 

Foisting war, famine, and death 

On so many nations in the world,

When we are shattered by returning

Images of stricken starving children, 

Seared and bleeding bodies,

When we see our ruin of societies

We don't understand, can our

Hardened hearts afford to give

A single flying fig 

For the lures of fashion?





c. J.S.Manista, 2017