President of the Declining US Empire

Powell Doctrine

President

Don’t look back, you’re being followed,
on your permanent vacation,
you scowl on every TV screen,
your fantasies divide the nations.
You feed my fear, you make it real,
no freedom in your loaded gun,
tell your old white boys, Donny,
there is nowhere left to run.

The world’s on fire, you let it burn,
fan the flames, there’s no return,
You want it all,
there’s more to learn.

In the silence of the fiery desert
grows a flower, blinding white,
don’t talk to me of limited war,
the battle’s lost on foreign ground.
Shadow boxing in the global village,
watch the old men take their bows,
While everyone awaits your fall
You build a wall to end all walls.

The world’s on fire, you let it burn,
fan the flames, no return,
you want it all,
there’s more to learn.

Lyrics of my song from 1989 are now updated to encompass Trump’s current opportunistic aggression toward Iran, as the archvillain baits and switches public attention away from the impeachment proceedings against him and feeds the fear of the public. When the racist, violent right press the fear button, they are ensuring people vote for the status quo. Works every time.

“I’m really sorry we are living in a world where the president of the biggest so-called superpower still doesn’t know attacking cultural sites is a war crime.” says Iran’s FM Mousavi. Yet since when does Amerikkka care about international law or being held accountable for its copious war crimes? Instead, its past warmongering criminal Presidents are sanitized and sanctified. When you are an empire with full spectrum global dominance, you never have to say you’re sorry for your crimes.

The US Beast serially chooses its scapegoats, playing the old imperial game of balancing the resource-rich Middle East between complete chaos and stability, in order to control oil prices and exercise manifest destiny-fueled imperial prerogative over its bounty, ensuring local dictatorial ruling class hegemony obedient to the US remains to oppress the people and commandeer the profits, with the usual weapons testing on live targets and consequent massive tithes of weapons purchases from the greedy empire and its western cronies, not to mention insuring the continuance of the obscene Pentagon budget, the most significant US economic ‘stimulus’.

Thus, with Syria no longer the focus, it’s Iran’s turn as lead whipping boy once more. This time, may the whole region and indeed, the whole world, unite to expel the imperial Beast and end the gruesome, planet-destroying, warmongering Amerikkkan occupation.

Related Links

Chomsky:

‘Any concerns about Iranian nuclear threats can be overcome by establishing a nuclear weapons-free zone (NWFZ) in the Middle East, with intensive inspections like those successfully implemented under the JCPOA.

As we have discussed before, this is quite straightforward. Regional support is overwhelming. The Arab states initiated the proposal long ago, and continue to agitate for it, with the strong support of Iran and the former nonaligned countries (G-77, now 132 countries). Europe agrees. In fact, there is only one barrier: the U.S., which regularly vetoes the proposal when it comes up at the review meetings of the Non-Proliferation Treaty countries, most recently by Obama in 2015. The U.S. will not permit inspection of Israel’s enormous nuclear arsenal, or even concede its existence, though it is not in doubt. The reason is simple: under U.S. law (the Symington Amendment), conceding its existence would require terminating all aid to Israel.’

Yoav Litvin: ‘Trump wants all of us to struggle while he repeatedly rapes us.’

The Seed Collector – Guest Poem by Beth Townsley

The Seed Collector

Your mother wasn’t born
but made
a slick pillar of stiff salt
when she looked back
as women will.
And whatever went on nights
in daddy’s glistening tent
staked hard and tight
in the red sand of your story
you have now brought forth
those seeds into our village
collected
into the long pockets
of your sweat soaked robe
to be brought out
like secrets
set out like plants
watered like cacti
handed, given, released
to me
one by one
where like Crassulas
they flower
in the shade of the fickle catalpa
which barely survives this desert.

Even with the harlot of war discarded
brimstone fails to rain
or char the traffic in women
or sear those neat rows of tents in Zoar
or parch the shepherds amidst their flocks.
Destruction locked like a cedar door
at the top of your throat
opened
could bring down cities
to ashes and dust.

Genealogies carved
on the long side of your bones
are buried
fossils
in the dry death of sand
to be preserved
for ages untold
along side the seeds
of our garden of mysteries.

My hoe strikes
the ground. My spade turns
it loose and open
to take the seeds
gathered there
and alter history.

© Beth Townsley, January 2019.

Invasion Day 2019

Crinum

Whitey Lament

I am not a bloody racist
Never comment to their faces
I have some very good black friends
You’re up a shit creek deadend
Can’t you see my smile
is politely nice and bright
I’m the genuine true blue article
from well-meaning #NotAllWhites
Intersectionally proud
of all my whitey cultures
What’s this crap you’re spinning
about capitalist social structures?
Who needs a republic
the mother ship gives us so much
All the lovely white things
sugar, flour, cotton and such
and why shift our Straya day
why do you want to #ChangetheNation?
We’re the lucky country, aren’t we?
be happy in your station.

January 2019

Updates

How could these barbarians do this to the memory of such a brave and noble British explorer!! Australia would be an empty wasteland without British colonialism, that great spreader of civilisation across the globe!! Mining and farming profits should not be taxed and used to extend even more civilised white British influence everywhere!!!

Racism toward courageous white exploiters of an empty land is intolerable!!!!

New Years in Australia

Umbrellas at the Lake

It’s come down to this
Tim Minchin sings Neil Finn
till the cows come home
You better be home soon
then video killed the radio star
We wave sparklers in the dark
in the singing forest and consider
No new Holdens off the line in 2019
in my mind and in my car
Gotta wonder about the Bathurst
this year without the local team
We’ll be ridin’ on the horses, yeah
And the NSW Lib gov charges
Sydneyites and hangers on
Fifty five bucks a seat
for the coathanger show
It’s come down to this –
a fireworks levy.
Relax, you can see it all on TV
till the scoundrel silvertails
kill off the ABC
Doing the eagle rock
yet we still call Lostralia home.

January 2019

Picture Postcards From Paris

SmogTousled mother and child sleep against a temporary fence,
Curl together, serene, cane bowl and coins by bare feet near the Louvre,
Closed for completion of another underground car park.
In the Place du Concours, Japanese busloads
point Nikons at streaky grey monuments
where knitters considering the contemporary charm
of the guillotine would be run over.
Locked away in the Tuilleries, romance floats with Monet’s waterlilies.

Even on a spring day after rain, the Eiffel Tower
is coyly wreathed in smog,
while down the dusty Seine, tourist boats
swarm around the Ile de la Cité and
fish bloat in the run off.

By lucid evening light, in Montmartre love affairs revive,
Chic short-skirted girls lick strawberry icecream
and watch modern masters sketch on sidewalks.
Beneath, cold-hearted youths clutch knives
and wait at lonely Metro corners.
Over the elegant Mansard roofs, tribal traffic
howls in the noxious fumes of Paris spring,
Red cars career down cobblestones meant for carriages.
There’s no charm in a million charging Citroens –
a great place to visit,
I wouldn’t want to choke there.

1992

The current riots in Paris reminded me of this poem written after a visit to Paris. I never regretted reaching the age of 37 without a ride in a red sports car through Paris with the warm smoggy wind in my hair. This poem was published by Bruce Dawe in 1992 in the Courier Mail literary section, before it was axed. Sarkozy’s government banned beggars around the Louvre and other tourist hot spots in 2011.