Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Angela Davis: More Than a Hair Cut
"It is both humiliating and humbling to discover that a single generation after the events that constructed me as a public personality, I am remembered as a hairdo." Angela Davis
One in 37
This is reprinted from my blog from 12/15/05:
In 1971 Angela Y. Davis faced a possible death sentence from the State of California.
A member of the communist party who studied under Theodore Adorno at the Frankfurt School in Germany, she became a public figure when she was fired from UCLA by then governor of California, Ronald Reagan, for her radical politics. She subsequently received death threats on a daily basis, and had countless mainstream news articles written about her. She was outspoken, articulate and confident and quickly became a symbol of black power in popular culture. George Jackson, an inmate at San Quentin who was doing life in prison for allegedly committing an armed robbery for $71, contacted her for help. He and two other inmates-the Soledad Brothers- were being charged with killing a guard. Jackson was also a communist, and claimed he was being persecuted for his political beliefs. Davis got involved in the campaign to clear the Soledad Brothers and educate the public about racism and the prison system. At this point she became a Black Panther.
In August of 1970, George Jackson’s younger brother Jonothan was shot and killed after allegedly seizing hostages that would presumably be exchanged for his brother’s freedom. The gun that was found was registered to Davis, who went underground and ended up on the F.B.I.’s ten most wanted list for attempted murder, conspiracy and kidnapping. She was eventually caught by police in NYC, where she did time in the Women’s Detention Center there before being transferred to the state of California where, if convicted, she could have been sent to the gas chamber.
In August 1971 George Jackson was shot and killed by prison guards a few days before his case went to court. Prison officials claim he had a gun and was trying to escape. Eyewitnesses say he was not armed or fleeing the prison. The other two Soledad Brothers were acquitted.
In 1972, Angela Y. Davis was cleared of all charges. She resumed her career as a teacher and became a writer and public intellectual. She has run for president (at least twice) and continues to fight against oppression and speak out, focusing on racism, classism, sexism and the prison industrial complex.
READ THE WHOLE POST HERE
One in 37
This is reprinted from my blog from 12/15/05:
In 1971 Angela Y. Davis faced a possible death sentence from the State of California.
A member of the communist party who studied under Theodore Adorno at the Frankfurt School in Germany, she became a public figure when she was fired from UCLA by then governor of California, Ronald Reagan, for her radical politics. She subsequently received death threats on a daily basis, and had countless mainstream news articles written about her. She was outspoken, articulate and confident and quickly became a symbol of black power in popular culture. George Jackson, an inmate at San Quentin who was doing life in prison for allegedly committing an armed robbery for $71, contacted her for help. He and two other inmates-the Soledad Brothers- were being charged with killing a guard. Jackson was also a communist, and claimed he was being persecuted for his political beliefs. Davis got involved in the campaign to clear the Soledad Brothers and educate the public about racism and the prison system. At this point she became a Black Panther.
In August of 1970, George Jackson’s younger brother Jonothan was shot and killed after allegedly seizing hostages that would presumably be exchanged for his brother’s freedom. The gun that was found was registered to Davis, who went underground and ended up on the F.B.I.’s ten most wanted list for attempted murder, conspiracy and kidnapping. She was eventually caught by police in NYC, where she did time in the Women’s Detention Center there before being transferred to the state of California where, if convicted, she could have been sent to the gas chamber.
In August 1971 George Jackson was shot and killed by prison guards a few days before his case went to court. Prison officials claim he had a gun and was trying to escape. Eyewitnesses say he was not armed or fleeing the prison. The other two Soledad Brothers were acquitted.
In 1972, Angela Y. Davis was cleared of all charges. She resumed her career as a teacher and became a writer and public intellectual. She has run for president (at least twice) and continues to fight against oppression and speak out, focusing on racism, classism, sexism and the prison industrial complex.
READ THE WHOLE POST HERE
Public Image
Public Image
Hello, hello, hello (ha, ha, ha)
You never listen to a word that I said
You only seen me
For the clothes
that I wear
Or did the interest go so much deeper
It must have been
The colour of my hair
The Public Image
What you wanted was never made clear
Behind the image was ignorance and fear
You hide behind this public machine
Still follow same old scheme
Public Image
Two sides to every story
Somebody had to stop me
I'm not the same as when I began
I will not be treated as property
Public Image
Two sides to every story
Somebody had to stop me
I'm not the same as when I began
Its not a game of monopoly
Public image
Public image
You got what you wanted
The public image belongs to me
It's my entrance
My own creation
My grand finale
My goodbye
Public image
Goodbye
Hello, hello, hello (ha, ha, ha)
You never listen to a word that I said
You only seen me
For the clothes
that I wear
Or did the interest go so much deeper
It must have been
The colour of my hair
The Public Image
What you wanted was never made clear
Behind the image was ignorance and fear
You hide behind this public machine
Still follow same old scheme
Public Image
Two sides to every story
Somebody had to stop me
I'm not the same as when I began
I will not be treated as property
Public Image
Two sides to every story
Somebody had to stop me
I'm not the same as when I began
Its not a game of monopoly
Public image
Public image
You got what you wanted
The public image belongs to me
It's my entrance
My own creation
My grand finale
My goodbye
Public image
Goodbye
Thursday, April 23, 2009
FLIPPER RULES OKAY
FLIPPER LYRICS
Ever
Life Is Cheap
Shed No Tears
(I Saw You) Shine
Way Of The World
Life
Nothing
Living For The Depression
Sex Bomb
Ever
Ever live a life that's real
Full of zest, but no appeal
Ever want to cry so much
You want to die
Ever feel that you've been had
Had so much that you turn mad
Ever been depressed that
(To) those you turn to, you bring distress
Ever sit in tormenting silence
That turns so loud, you start to scream
Ever take control of a dream
And play all the parts and set all the scenes
Ever do nothing and gain nothing from it
Ever feel stupid and then know that you really are
Ever think you're smart and then find out you aren't
Ever play the fool and then find out that you're worse
Ever look at a flower and hate it
Ever see a couple kissing and get sickened by it
Ever wish the human race didn't exist
And then realize you're one too
Well, have you... ever... I have
So what
Life Is Cheap
Feel so numb feel so dead
Just felt like someone hit my head
Like someone knew just what to do
Poison the masses catch the running few
Feel so empty feel so old
Just waiting to feel the death like cold
Eating away at my life ties
Not really knowing not caring why
Life is pretty cheap. Sold a decade at a time
Life is pretty cheap. It's so easy to find
Life is pretty cheap. There's really nothing new
Life is pretty cheap
Except for the cold delirious few
Dying too young living too fast
It's starting to feel like I'm living in the past
The pain is strong more than one can bear
Why is there religion. It's just not fair
People cling to things to make to make their lives seem real
Crawling like bugs at some fool leader's heels
Boasting of freedom when they're tied down with chains
It's time to give it up. Here comes the death rain
Life is pretty cheap. Sold a decade at a time
Life is pretty cheap. It's so easy to find
Life is pretty cheap. There's really nothing new
Life is pretty cheap
Life is pretty cheap
Except for the cold delerious few
Shed No Tears
Shed no tears for the martyr dying
Only in pain suffering and death
Can the martyr become what he's chosen to be
No tears wasted
No sorrow no pity
No, no crying, no loss
Shed no tears for the cop bleeding
He once held the gun. He once held the key
Now his prisoners will sing and dance and play
No tears wasted
No sorrow no pity
No, no crying, no loss
Shed no tears for the nun beaten
By the children she once called her flock
How they hate their teachers. Who force darkness upon us
No tears wasted
No sorrow no pity
No, no crying, no loss
Shed no tears for the suicide
He has made his choice, the pain of life is great
And some will find it sweet to rot beneath the earth
As we rot and live and breathe
No tears wasted
No sorrow no pity
No, no crying, no loss
(I Saw You) Shine
Turn away, turn away from the wall
Turn away, turn away from the wall
Face me now, Face me now
Show me, show me all your tears
Your pain, your pain makes me burn
It's my shame
It's my shame we both hurt
We both hurt
I've got to strip this flesh from my bones
I've got to hammer this wall with my hands
With my hands
And I saw you
I saw you shine
I was holding you
I saw your face. I saw our face as you heard my words
My words
And you left me. You left me to hold yourself
And I've got to strip this flesh from my bones
I've got to hammer this wall with my hands
With my hands
The lights have all gone out
The lights have all gone out
But I saw you
I saw you shine
Way Of The World
There are eyes that cannot see
And fingers that cannot touch
That's the way of the world
There are dreams left empty and blank
And legs that have ceased to walk
That's the way of the world
There are kisses undelivered
Sighs and moans unuttered
That's the way of the world
There are hearts no longer beating
And there are entrails spilled on the floor
That's the way of the world
Life
I too have sung Death's praise
But I'm not going to sing that song anymore
Yes, I've figured out what living is all about
It's life! life!
Life is the only thing worth living for
Yes life! life!
Life is the only thing worth...
Life! life!
(I know it has it's ups and downs)
Nothing
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
You don't care so you say, 'cause it's
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Not to believe is what you believe
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
It's all a dream in the daylight
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
And at night, it's a nightmare
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Think too much and you go to jail
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Stupid police won't let you pay any bail
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Sitting around and you're wasting my time
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
Once you were a good friend of mine
Living For The Depression
We're living for life to be the way we feel
Not living for life, but the Death appeal
Who wants a cancerous boring end
When you can die from misery and following the trend?
I say "Who cares anyway? Who listens to what I say?"
This song rhymes and we play it in time
And if you wanna live in Super Market Isles
And take your vacation by flying for miles
Take a day off and live in the lies
While others work and capitalize
I say "Who cares anyway? Who listens to what I say?"
This song rhymes and we play it in time
We're living like cockroaches in this place
Sprayed with insecticide that leaves no trace
And if we could crawl on you at night
You could be sure we'd love to bite
I say "Who cares anyway? Who listens to what I say?"
This song rhymes and we play it in time
I'm not living life to be
A really cheap fucker like you
Copout
Sex Bomb
She's a sex bomb my baby - yeah (repeat endlessly)
Friday, April 17, 2009
Palestinian Hip Hop by DAM 4/21
from the olympia film society website:
Benefit for the Olympia-Rafah Mural Project Benefit
6:30pm doors/7:00pm show$10.00 advance/ $12.00 available at the box office night of show.
DAM is the first and leading Palestinian hip-hop group. Its three members were born and grew up in the slums of Lod, a mixed town of Arabs and Jews, 20 km from Jerusalem. DAM's music is a unique fusion of East and West, combining Arabic percussion rhythms, Middle Eastern melodies and urban Hip Hop. The lyrics of DAM are influenced by the continuing Israeli - Palestinian conflict as well as by the Palestinian struggle for freedom and equality. This show is a benefit for the Olympia-Rafah Solidarity Mural Project, a project of the Rachel Corrie Foundation for Peace and Justice.
www.olympiarafahmural.org
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Not Into Fashion Shows...
so, the prospect of another fashion show at the capitol theater is about as exciting to me as getting another tooth pulled...it is reminding me of 8th grade cheerleading tryouts...and while i am used to being alienated by the world at large and the mainstream of indie rock, i don't like it that the thing that the women in my town work so hard on these days is centered around the buying, selling, making and wearing of clothes. i recognize that fashion is considered an art form, and (as previously stated) yes, sometimes i like wearing outfits too, but i am not someone who thinks owning a business or being crafty is in-and-of-itself radical. so while i am hesitant to present my harsh critique here (what i really think would probably offend you) i have to say, no i will not be attending the fashion show or dying the gray out of my hair or putting myself on display any time soon. i am glad that women are being creative together, but sad that i can't relate...oh well i guess. maybe it's time to re-evaluate what feminism is. hmmm.
as an afterthought I should probably mention that i do think a political usage of style, especially with regards to youth cultural movements, (see dick hebdige subculture the meaning of style or the writing of stuart hall) is viable and can be potentially liberating, though when it comes to girls, focusing so much on appearance is always going to be a double-edged sword...and fashion, as an industry, "diy", boutique or mainstream, is not compelling to me...to each her own i suppose...i know we all have to pay the bills and...i won't voice my critique of the music industry here either, but rest assured i do have one...yep.
when I was in middle school my mom told me I didn't need to shave my legs or wear a bra or make up unless i WANTED to. in high school I found that these "choices" were less than free--if you didn't conform to traditional grooming habits for women, there were consequences. as a young woman, I resisted this programming in different ways, only conforming when I felt it was really a choice or when it seemed to make sense to comply, i.e. job interviews or whatever.
in bikini kill we tried to make the construction of femininity--and resistance to it-- visible as part of our performance. we used style politically. unfortunately this 'style' was commodified and entered the market place in weird sanitized versions...somewhere along the line, "fashion" became "hip" and the trendsetters became trendy.
as an adult woman who will be turning 40 this year, i find myself thinking a lot about what my mom told me in middle school. when i realized i was spending a bunch of money dying my hair because it was turning gray and women are supposed to try and look young forever, i stopped doing it. when i dye it next time it will be because i WANT to, not because i HAVE to if that makes sense.
in all this worrying about my appearance, the fashion show doesn't make me feel happy, it makes me stressed out. fuck it. i want to read books and try to create a world free from war, racial injustice and poverty. that to me is what it's all about. i don't give a shit what you wear. sure it's better to buy local, but do we really have to think about it so much?
as an afterthought I should probably mention that i do think a political usage of style, especially with regards to youth cultural movements, (see dick hebdige subculture the meaning of style or the writing of stuart hall) is viable and can be potentially liberating, though when it comes to girls, focusing so much on appearance is always going to be a double-edged sword...and fashion, as an industry, "diy", boutique or mainstream, is not compelling to me...to each her own i suppose...i know we all have to pay the bills and...i won't voice my critique of the music industry here either, but rest assured i do have one...yep.
when I was in middle school my mom told me I didn't need to shave my legs or wear a bra or make up unless i WANTED to. in high school I found that these "choices" were less than free--if you didn't conform to traditional grooming habits for women, there were consequences. as a young woman, I resisted this programming in different ways, only conforming when I felt it was really a choice or when it seemed to make sense to comply, i.e. job interviews or whatever.
in bikini kill we tried to make the construction of femininity--and resistance to it-- visible as part of our performance. we used style politically. unfortunately this 'style' was commodified and entered the market place in weird sanitized versions...somewhere along the line, "fashion" became "hip" and the trendsetters became trendy.
as an adult woman who will be turning 40 this year, i find myself thinking a lot about what my mom told me in middle school. when i realized i was spending a bunch of money dying my hair because it was turning gray and women are supposed to try and look young forever, i stopped doing it. when i dye it next time it will be because i WANT to, not because i HAVE to if that makes sense.
in all this worrying about my appearance, the fashion show doesn't make me feel happy, it makes me stressed out. fuck it. i want to read books and try to create a world free from war, racial injustice and poverty. that to me is what it's all about. i don't give a shit what you wear. sure it's better to buy local, but do we really have to think about it so much?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
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