June 20th, 2006

From"Decoded" The arrival



The United States simply --loses--Fourth Generation Warfare, because it obtusely fails to understand it.  The Viet Nam War, ten plus years of futile destructiveness to no end whatsoever, would have taught the mechanism of 4GW if America's geopolitical and military mindset were capable of learning it, and Iraq,  a land time has forgotten in the Darkest Ages, or more to the point, three distinct lands carved on the  maps of Victorian European gentlemen, no more a true country than "Yugoslavia" was, proves that it cannot learn.  In 4GW terms, ending the desperate life of Abu Masab Al Zarquai along with his spiritual leader and the usual assorted hapless bystanders is virtually meaningless, because we created him with our unwarranted and inept crusade.  Before the invasion, there was no "Al-Queda" (the term itself is nearly meaningless now) in Iraq.  Our actions reshaped the secular Arab Nationalist petty dictatorship into the very Islamist "republic" voted into power under our own occupation regime. We support other such Sadaam-like secular regimes - In Uzbekistan, Pakistan and Khazakstan, to name a few. On the face of it, we are supporting a country developing and Islamist Theocratic Regime nearly identical to the one in neighboring Iran, which our muddled president mulls over dropping The Big One on. This is all seriously deranged foreign policy.  It addresses 4GW with classical military strategies used against classical nation-states. In fact, Islamism is a transnational product of a globalist economic agenda with no center and no leaders

as traditionally understood. BOOTS ON THE GROUND
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From"Decoded" The arrival


Don't make the mistake, my dear dear, friends, of thinking that my poetry is my prose.  Generally, my prose is documentary, if sarcastic on occasion, my poetry luridly erotic and idealistic or darkly depressing.  The prose deals with facts or speculation about facts.  The poetry deals with the heart, and the dreams and nightmares of the heart.  I am in transitition, my second Saturn return, my first move North, and a very very challenging social environment.  That said...
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I ain't got no home, I'm just a-roamin' 'round,
Just a wandrin' worker, I go from town to town.
And the police make it hard wherever I may go
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.

My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road,
A hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod;
Rich man took my home and drove me from my door
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.

Was a-farmin' on the shares, and always I was poor;
My crops I lay into the banker's store.
My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor,
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.

Now as I look around, it's mighty plain to see
This world is such a great and a funny place to be;
Oh, the gamblin' man is rich an' the workin' man is poor,
And I ain't got no home in this world anymore.

Woodie Guthrie

everthing is prioritized, inherently
preferency = heirarchy
only the dead have no preference
this is no excuse to rule
but reason to distinguish
friend from foe
come from go
you have preferences
here I am
bleeding on our kitchen floor
My place is not to be bled
For I have come to bleed
nectar, mysterious, immortal
still time to see,

yin yield  to me

before I fade
into the dust
the dusky dust bowl
dust to dust

I am come, called by Fate
Howling screaming
Time runs
While you can
See me
As I am.

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