Tag: Occupy Wall Street

Frank Miller and the rise of cryptofascist Hollywood

Subscribe to ShahidulNews


Share


300 film still and writer frank miller

‘A mindless, propagandistic storytelling medium’ ? The film 300, left, and its writer Frank Miller. Photographs: Allstar/AP
A sturdy corollary emerges in the wake of?the graphic artist?Frank Miller‘s recent diatribe against the?Occupy Wall Street movement (“A pack of louts, thieves, and rapists ? Wake up, pond scum, America is?at war against a ruthless enemy”), available for perusal atfrankmillerink.com). That corollary, of which we should be reminded from time to time, is this: popular entertainment from Hollywood is ? to greater or lesser extent ? propaganda. And Miller has his part in that, thanks to films such as?300 and?Sin City.
Perhaps you have had this thought before. Perhaps you have had it often. I can remember politics dawning on me while watching a?Steven Seagal vehicle, Under Siege, in 1992. I was in my early 30s.?The film was without redeeming merit ? there’s no other way to put it ? and it was about a “ruthless enemy” and the reimposition of the American social order through violence and rugged individualism. Why had I paid hard-earned money for it? Good question. Before Under Siege, I had a tendency to think action films were?funny. I had a sort of Brechtian relationship to their awfulness. And I was?amused when films themselves recognised the level to which they stooped, as Under Siege assuredly did. Continue reading “Frank Miller and the rise of cryptofascist Hollywood”

Dare to Share? (Thanksgiving Thoughts)

Subscribe to ShahidulNews

By Arjun Janah


Share



I wander off, from working life, to see and hear what’s new,
And here is what I find — which now is openly in view.
I see the people in two camps (though some are in-between)
And one of them is calling for an ending that’s obscene.
They’re calling for the cops to do what those for hire do best,
To beat up on the ones who dare, their binding chains, to test.
But since the ones who’re testing are these students, who are white,
Or women who are white as well, this gives the rest a fright.
For pepper spray and rods and boots, when used on those who’re darker
Or poorer may be quite okay — and safely out of sight,
Or even guns and bullets, used when we’re asleep at night,
But when it’s done in daylight, with reporters gathered near,
To those who’re lighter, richer — why, then some refuse to cheer,
Though others still approve — and only wish they’d done it sooner.
To both these camps, the other one is certifiably lunar!
And here’s what those in power are now thinking. Hear them say,
To others of their kind, “Let’s stop this wretched thing, today!
“For if some question, what was held for longest time as true,
Then what’s to save some other things from critical review?
We bomb the regions far away — and people burn in hells.
But see, there are no pictures and that story, no one tells.
But what to do when people rise up here, in this, our street,
Or merely sit — near places where we one-percenters meet?
They circumvent the ban on mikes by echoing together!
They point out things that no one did without the tar and feather!
They even give out food and books — and people pause to think…
They’re rodents! If not driven out, this ship of ours might sink!
So hear our drums of war and how we beat them, till at last
Our lust for blood is satisfied. But has the danger passed?
Oh no! These books they distribute, in public in the square,
Must now be gone! And so must those, who advocate we share!”
I wondered off, from working life, and this I saw and heard.
I wondered loud, if rich should share. But I was called a turd.
But here is what some others said, who came to my defense,
And what they said, to me at least, made somewhat better sense.
“Remember that the ones who lived, in this, our bounteous land,
Remembered those who came by ship, but did not understand
The land or cultures that were here. They were, by climate, beaten
And surely would have perished — as do all who haven’t eaten
The season long. But natives came — and gave, it’s said, of maize,
Of turkey and of other things. This did the saved amaze
And they gave thanks (as we still do) not to the ruddy “Indians”
But to their God, their Savior Christ, in these, their new “dominions”.
And natives gave them implements — and other things they needed,
For they were used to sharing all — and those, in trouble, heeded.
But when one needed something back, and asked, this raised a fever
On those who understood him not, and called him, “Indian giver!”
And so it’s been. They’re vanished now, the ones who knew to share…
But should, in turn, these folk depart — who now, to sharing, dare?
Babui / Arjun
2011 November 24th, Th. (Thanksgiving Day)
Brooklyn

Part I: The Federal Reserve Bank. America's privately-owned central bank

Subscribe to ShahidulNews

Share

By rahnuma ahmed

Dr. Ben Shalom Bernanke is the current chairman of the Federal Reserve, the `central’ bank of the United States of America.

“I know you are very busy, but you must make time. I have something very important to tell you,” I insisted.
Later, sitting in Nurul Kabir’s office, I asked, did you know that the American Federal Reserve Bank is privately-owned?
Wha-at? No! How?
I spilled the beans: the Fed (as its known for short), America’s central bank, is actually not a central bank, its not government-owned, its actually a banking cartel, the American government doesn’t create, doesn’t print money, this banking cartel does it, and the US government is indebted to it, and Americans are taxed to pay off the interest to this cartel, and the interest is just huge, a staggering amount in trillions of dollars, talk of shudkhors (usurers), its an unbelievable scam, American people generally don’t know about it, the media doesn’t talk about it, it’s a huge big cover-up… I went on excitedly till I ran out of words.
A long pause, then I reeled off the names of some leftists, friends we have in common, and asked Kabir, do you think our anti-imperialist friends, very critical of American capitalism, and for good reasons too, know this? The real story?
No, came the immediate reply. Since I didn’t, I’m sure they don’t either. Oooh, how conceited, I yelped, as I took a long sip of tea, which had gone cold as I gabbled. We laughed, and I moved on to describe how I had come across this extraordinary tale. Continue reading “Part I: The Federal Reserve Bank. America's privately-owned central bank”