“It was Daniel Schorr’s lucidity that regularly made me crank up the volume when I heard his voice at NPR. Not only were his commentaries caringly researched and clearly thought-out, his news analyses often clashed with NPR’s smooth pro-Pentagon line. Schorr was one of the last broadcast journalists who consider facts and evidence in filing a report or voicing an opinion. He was and remains a treasure.” — Al Young

• Journalism Legend Daniel Schorr Dies At 93
by Alan Greenblatt

Dear Listeners:

Here at KALW, we’ve just received the news that longtime NPR News analyst Daniel Schorr died peacefully this morning in the company of his family, at age 93.

Daniel Schorr was not only a well-known voice to public radio listeners, he was an important figure in the history of
American journalism.  In the words of NPR CEO Vivian Schiller:

“It’s impossible to overestimate Dan’s impact on journalism – from his early days working with Edward R. Murrow, to the founding of CNN, to the last 25 years as NPR’s news analyst, a familiar and beloved voice to millions of listeners. Every one of us who happened to see Dan coming in to work — walking a little more slowly with time but with a razor-sharp wit and warmth that never dimmed – learned a lesson in the dedication, determination, and integrity that it takes to be the best. He was.”

KALW will broadcast NPR’s memorial special on the life and career of Daniel Schorr this evening at 6pm.  And tomorrow morning on Weekend Edition, Scott Simon will give his remembrances of Schorr.

You can learn more about Schorr’s career and post your recollections of his work at the Daniel Schorr tribute page at NPR.org.

Matt Martin
General Manager, KALW

____________________________________________________

• Daniel Schorr at Wikipedia

Daniel Schorr’s Facebook page

__________________________________________________________

Check the Facebook page for this event

Click to enlarge image

ISHMAEL REED to speak at the African American Center of the San Francisco Public Library – Sunday, July 25, 2010

Produced by Justin Desmangles

clickable images

San Francisco Public Library | Koret Auditorium

Main Library
100 Larkin Street
San Francisco, CA 94102
MAP

Photo courtesy Baraka Books | Montréal, Québec

BARACK OBAMA AND THE JIM CROW MEDIA

Ishmael Reed will read from and discuss his latest book, BARACK OBAMA AND THE JIM CROW MEDIA: The Return of the Nigger Breakers, on Sunday, July 25, 2010 at the African American Center of the San Francisco Public Library starting at 2 p.m.

Under slavery, “nigger breakers” had the job of destroying the spirits of tough black men by whatever means necessary. At age 15, Frederick Douglass was sold to Edward Covey who had the mandate to break him. Ishmael Reed makes the case that President Barack Obama is being assailed by 20th-Century descendants of Covey. In a series of essays written during the 2008 primaries and after Obama’s election, Reed describes how Obama’s opponents and some supposed allies use modern reincarnations of those same ugly demons to break him. What’s more, statements and alliances he made during the campaign and in office have made him easy prey. A book sale will follow the reading.

Sunday, July 25, 2010; 2-4 pm

Koret Auditorium, Main Library, Lower Level. 100 Larkin Street, San Francisco, CA
MAP

Listen to Ishmael Reed’s conversation with Aimee Allison on KPFA’s The Morning Show

• Jill Nelson talks to Ishmael Reed in THE DEFENDERS ONLINE, organ of the NAACP’s legal defense fund

Photo © Vicenzo D’Alto/Montréal Gazette

• “Taking on the Jim Crow Media” – Montréal Gazette

________________________________________________

Baraka Books

Baraka Books is a Québec-based English-language book publisher specializing in creative and political non-fiction, history and historical fiction, and fiction. Our belief is that books are a haven of freedom and that they remain the foremost vector for change.

The word baraka is used in many languages and cultures and, depending on the language, can mean blessing, wisdom, luck, and more.

Inspired by this multilingual and cross-cultural word, Baraka Books is committed to providing English-speaking readers in Canada and elsewhere with ideas, points of view, and creative works that might otherwise be overlooked because of cultural or linguistic barriers.

Baraka Books
6977, rue Lacroix
Montréal, Québec H4E 2V4
Telephone: 514.808.8504
Contact us

________________________________________________

Wanda Sabir’s Appeal

Courtesy sfbayview.com

San Francisco Bay View arts editor and poet Wanda Sabir

Greetings, Everyone:

I went to Haiti over the Spring Break this year. I visited many grassroots organizations in Delmas, Cité Soliel and Port-au-Prince. I would like to return in August for two weeks, before fall semester starts, to see the areas I missed in my six-day visit in April, like the Aristide Foundation. I would also like to take cameras for Jean Ristil, Jean Baptiste’s kids, and money for the other organizations like the orphanage supported by Equator Faith Church in Oakland. I’d like to take funds to So Anne to buy food for the meals she serves, and to Rea Dol, who is rebuilding her school and taking care of so many people.

I’d like to raise about $4000 (I have raised $300 as of July 22), which will cover my airfare ($820 ) and transport/boarding ($400-500) with money left over to give between $300-400 dollars to all these organizations. These are the people doing the work without government and NGO/non-profit assistance. When I was there last, I left everything: tent, sleeping bag, bug spray, medicines, school supplies with my host Rea Dol. I’d like to leave money, too, this time. I need another tent and a sleeping bag (smile). I don’t know who I’ll meet when I go to Jacmel, Les Cayes and, hopefully, Port-de-Paix — with an overnight stop in Cap Haitien to see friends at SOIL — and the island of La Gonaive, but I know I will return with another list. The cost also includes my escort’s travel and lodging expenses. So dig deep and give generously.

Send the donations to me at
P.O. Box 30756
Oakland, CA 94604.
Checks can be made out to Wanda Sabir.
You can call me: 510.712.4015 — mobile.

I plan to have another report back in October during Maafa Awareness Month.

_______________________________________________

July 22, 2010

IMF cancels $268 million Haiti debt

The Associated Press
Thursday, July 22, 2010; 5:24 AM

PARIS — The IMF says it has canceled Haiti’s $268 million debt and will lend the earthquake-devastated country another $60 million to help it with reconstruction plans.

The International Monetary Fund said Wednesday the decision is part of a plan for long-term reconstruction after the Jan. 12 magnitude-7 quake, which killed as many as 300,000 people.

To read this story in its entirety, go to the Washington Post original

_______________________________________________

Suffering and struggle: Six months after the Haitian earthquake

By Patrick Martin
10 July 2010
World Socialist Web Site

© 2010 WSWS.org

Port-au-Prince shortly after the January 2010 earthquake

Six months after an earthquake destroyed much of Haiti and killed more than 300,000 people, little has been done for the survivors. The promises by the United Nations and the major powers, particularly the United States, have produced only a trickle of aid. Of the billions promised at a series of conferences, amid much media publicity, only 2 percent has actually been delivered.

The scale of the devastation produced by the worst natural disaster of the twenty-first century still staggers the imagination. The death toll was at least 300,000, and by some estimates nearly 500,000, out of a total population of 8 million—the worst disaster, in terms of the proportion of the population, in modern history. The equivalent in a country the size of the United States would be a death toll of 10 to 20 million.

Virtually all the deaths were caused by the collapse of homes and other buildings in Haiti’s urban centers, particularly the overcrowded slums of Port-au-Prince, the capital city. Some 188,000 homes were damaged, according to one survey, of which 105,000 were completely destroyed, along with 1,300 schools, 50 hospitals, the presidential palace, the parliament building and the port of Port-au-Prince.

MORE ~ To read the story in its entirety, go to the WSWS.org original

_______________________________________________

Listen

ISLAND BENEATH THE SEA, Isabel Allende’s new novel, breathes life into the history and spirituality of Saint Domingue (pre-revolutionary Haiti) and New Orléans. From her extensive research into the back-story of colonialism, slavery and human bondage, master storyteller Allende moves in close to dramatize in heartbreaking detail the story of one slave woman’s fate. The revered author’s April 27, 2010 interview with KQED Forum’s Michael Krasny is one sound, moving eye-opener.

_______________________________________________

AP Photo

Michelle Obama and Jill Biden visit Haiti

“Haiti, Haiti, Tortured Lady” — a poem by Al Young

Three Poems for the Terremoto — Lorna Dee Cervantes

Poetry Friday: Edwidge Danticat Voices Haiti, Always

Haitianalysis.com ~ Writing Off Sovereignty: Québec Media on Haiti Since the Earthquake

Courtesy Calabash Music

ADJABEL

ADJABEL dans l’metro reportage RFO été 2009

Origines [Racines 3] ~ MONDOMIX 1998

Frequently updated since the earliest posting of January 12th, 2010

_______________________________________________

Haiti updates at the New York Times

April 2010

_______________________________________________

Rain triggers deadly floods in Haiti ~ BBC News video

March 15-21

Courtesy WorldNews.com

Courtesy telelakaytv.com

Courtesy The Haitian Daily Times

_______________________________________________

© Daily Haitian Times

© theGrio

tweet examiner.com

_______________________________________________

© Jan Sochor at Flickr

Tap-Tap bus, Port-au-Prince

Poems from Haiti, translated by Merete Mueller with Dominique Herard

Jan 19, 2010

_______________________________________________

March 10th

Haiti campers protest lack of food ~ Yahoo News/AP

Lost in the ruins: Haiti’s best and brightest

March 9th

Video footage © Associated Press

US hospital ship Comfort leaving Haiti~ Yahoo News/AP

_______________________________________________

Haitian poet Boadiba’s EARTHQUAKE DIARY (introduced by Ishmael Reed

)

_______________________________________________

Note Arundhati Roy’s comment below on how big-money media have perfected the coverage of crisis, disaster and catastrophe in the 21st century.

_______________________________________________

“What are we? Since that’s your question, I’m going to answer you. We’re this country, and it wouldn’t be a thing without us, nothing at all. Who does the planting? Who does the watering? Who does the harvesting? Coffee, cotton, rice, sugar cane, cacao, corn, bananas, vegetables, and all the fruits, who’s going to grow them if we don’t? Yet with all that, we’re poor, that’s true. We’re out of luck, that’s true. We’re miserable, that’s true. But do you know why, brother? Because of our ignorance. We don’t know yet what a force we are, what a single force – all the peasants, all the Negroes of the plain and hill, all united. Some day, when we get wise to that, we’ll rise up from one end of the country to the other.”

– Jacques Roumain (1907-1944),

Masters of the Dew

(Gouverneurs de la rosée)

Translated from the French by Langston Hughes and Mercer Cook

Courtesy photo

_______________________________________________

UPDATE

SARKOZY IN HAITI: Two Accounts

© AP Photo: Boris Horvat

First Lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy comforts a Haitian child

© Reuters

>>> Sarkozy visits Haiti, unveils major aid package

By Pascal Fletcher

19 February 2010

Reuters

PORT-AU-PRINCE (Reuters) – French President Nicolas Sarkozy announced a financial and aid package of nearly half a billion dollars on Wednesday to assist quake-hit Haiti, as he became France’s first head of state to visit the former French Caribbean colony.

The support package totalling 326 million euros (285 million pounds) included cancellation of 56 million euros of debt, 100 million euros of fresh funds to be provided over two years and 65 million euros to be channelled through the European Union.“I have come to tell Haiti’s people that they are not alone … France will be at your side in the long term,” Sarkozy told a news conference in the grounds of the Haitian presidential palace which partly collapsed in the January 12 earthquake … continued

BBC video footage of Sarkozy in Port-au-Prince

>>> Mass protests greet Sarkozy visit to Haiti

By Alex Lantier

19 February 2010

WSWS.org

French President Nicolas Sarkozy traveled for a one-day visit to Haiti on February 17, amid rising popular opposition to the Western-backed Préval government and international tensions over how to rebuild the country. The US military occupied Haiti after the devastating January 12 earthquake that killed over 200,000 people, wounded over 250,000, and destroyed much of the country’s infrastructure.

Sarkozy, the first French head of state ever to visit Haiti, was greeted with street protests by thousands of Haitians demanding the return of elected President Jean-Bertrand Aristide. Ousted by a US- and French-backed coup in 2004, Aristide was exiled to the Central African Republic, a former French colony. President René Préval, a former prime minister under Aristide in the 1990s, came to power in 2006 in elections supervised by the provisional government of Boniface Alexandre that was installed by the coup.

Préval tried to address the crowd outside the presidential palace. However, crowds shouted him down, and Préval left in a luxury Jeep, surrounded by bodyguards … continued

_______________________________________________

© Associated Press

A man listens to a radio at a refugee camp in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

Over to You: the BBC’s daily Connexion Haiti broadcasts are helping people reunite and solve everyday, hour-to-hour, minute to-minute problems.

Courtesy WSWS.org

Four weeks after earthquake —

Haiti: hunger sparks growing protests

By Bill Van Auken

World Socialist Web Site

9 February 2010

On Sunday, Haiti saw one of its largest protests since the January 12 earthquake. as four weeks after the disaster, frustration with continuing hunger and homelessness mount …

Read the rest of this troubling story

_______________________________________________

Haitians react to Pat Robertson’s ignorant ‘devil pact’ insult

_______________________________________________

´ © NYDailyNews.com

HAITI: Two Weeks Following Earthquake, Needs Are Changing

26 January 2010

© Médecins Sans Frontières/Doctors Without Borders: An Overview

_______________________________________________

Haitians flee Port-au-Prince

Link TV ~ 22 January 2010

19 January 2010 ~ MTV’s global telethon fundraiser

Les Cayes, Haiti ~ 12 January 2010

This is video sent on the day of the earthquake. The Global Orphan Project supports over 2200 kids in Haiti. This video was sent through the Cambry Technical Center to Shane Hackett and Frantz St. Germain.

_______________________________________________

The Daily Haitian Times

_____________________________________________

Signal FM Haiti

90.5

____________________________________________

Dahoud André: Radio Lakou New York

____________________________________________

Radio Solidarité Haiti88.5 fm

____________________________

ADDITIONAL NEWS SOURCES

7 días
(Dominican Republic)

Granma
(Cuba)

New York Times coverage

BBC coverage

° Voices from Haiti °

° BBC In pictures: Haitian earthquake °

Le Devoir
(Montréal)

l’Humanité
(Paris)

_______________________________________________

Mosaic @ Link TV

Link TV’s Ten Sources for Information on Haiti

_______________________________________________

Courtesy photo

“Crisis reportage in the twenty-first century has evolved into an independent discipline — almost a science. The money, the technology, and the orchestrated mass hysteria that goes into crisis reporting has a curious effect. It isolates the crisis, unmoors it from the particularities of the history, the geography, and the culture that produced it. Eventually it floats free like a hot-air balloon, carrying its cargo of international gadflies — specialists, analysts, foreign correspondents, and crisis photographers with their enormous telephoto lenses.”

– Arundhati Roy,

An Ordinary Person’s Guide to Empire (2004)

© OutlookIndia.com

Arundhati Roy

_______________________________________________

Paul Farmer: WHO REMOVED ARISTIDE?

London Review of Books ~ April 15, 2004

_______________________________________________

General Toussaint L’Ouverture (1743-1803)

by Jacob Lawrence

° The slave who defeated Napoleon, Britain and Spain °

_______________________________________________

Honorable agencies that actually deliver aid in the form of food, clothing and medical care directly to people on the ground in need

HAITI ACTION.NET

Haiti Emergency Relief Fund

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS

Médecins sans Frontières

PARTNERS IN HEALTH

HAITI ~ ONE RESPONSE

THE LAMBI FUND OF HAITI

_______________________________________________

View live courtroom reaction to the verdict

Ishmael Reed in 2009 on the fatal BART shooting

Officer Found Guilty in Deadly BART Shooting

KTLA News
4:58 PM PDT, July 8, 2010
© KTLA

LOS ANGELES — A former transit officers has been convicted of involuntary manslaughter in the shooting death of an unarmed black man on an Oakland train platform.Johannes Mehserle was found guilty on Thursday in the New Year’s Day 2009 killing of 22-year-old Oscar Grant.

Involuntary manslaughter carries a sentence of two to four years.

To read the rest of this dispatch, go to the KTLA original

_____________________________________________________

Thursday, July 2, 2010
© 2010 Bay City News

Closing Arguments Conclude in Oscar Grant Murder Trial, Jurors Might Begin Deliberations This Afternoon

Prosecutor David Stein and defense attorney Michael Rains completed their closing arguments today in the trial of former BART police Officer Johannes Mehserle on a murder charge for the fatal shooting of unarmed passenger Oscar Grant III.

A Los Angeles County Superior Court spokeswoman said Judge Robert Perry began giving jurors legal instructions before their lunch break and will continue giving instructions when they come back to court.The spokeswoman said deliberations in the closely-watched trial could begin later today, depending on how long it takes Perry to complete presenting the instructions. Jurors are scheduled to leave at 4 p.m. today and come back to court at 8:30 a.m. Tuesday.

>>> Read the whole story at SFAppeal.com >>>

Photo via Flickr | Thomas Hawk

The Shooting Death of Oscar Grant: What You Need to Know

By Tom Head | About.com Guide

__________________________________________________________

Photo courtesy of KTVU

Oscar Grant III and daughter

__________________________________________________________

Police mugshot

Johannes Mehserle, the ex-BART police officer who shot and killed Oscar Grant III on New Year’s Day 2009

KNTV Videos

Lori Preuitt: The Wait Is Over, Mehserle Trial Begins This Week

© 2010 MSNBC.com
June 7, 2010
Go to the original

The highly anticipated and long awaited trial of a former BART police officer accused of killing an unarmed passenger on New Year’s Eve night a year and a half ago is scheduled to begin late this week in Los Angeles.

Last week, hundreds of potential jurors reported to court for hours and hours of screening to see if they would make the cut and sit on the jury.

The timing appears to be on track for opening statements to begin this Thursday.

>>> MORE >>>

Julianne Hing: Oscar Grant Murder Trial Kicks Off in L.A.

© 2010 Racewire ~ The Colorlines Blog
June 1, 2010
Go to the original

It’s been exactly a year and a half since Oscar Grant was shot in the back while he lay face down on a train platform by former BART cop Johannes Mehserle. Today, Mehserle faces his last pre-trial hearing before his trial gets underway with jury selection this week.Mehserle’s been charged with second-degree murder and has pleaded not guilty. Michael Rains, Mehserle’s attorney, is expected to make the claim that Mehserle mistakenly pulled out his gun when he meant to reach for his Taser when he shot Grant on New Year’s Day 2009.

>>> MORE >>>

__________________________________________________________

AlYoung.org coverage of the Oscar Grant III murder

_____________________________________________

Photo: Courtesy Political Spin Examiner.com

British Petroleum CEO Tony Hayward

BP buys Google, Yahoo search words to keep people away from real news on Gulf oil spill disaster

In their most tenacious effort to control the ‘spin’ on the worst oil spill disaster in the history, BP has purchased top internet search engine words so they can re-direct people away from real news on the Deepwater Horizon catastrophe.

>>> Read Maryann Tobin’s Examiner.com article in its entirety >>>

___________________________________________________________

]]> http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/06/06/bp-buys-google-yahoo-search-words-to-keep-people-away-from-the-real-news-to-keep-people-away-from-real-news-on-gulf-oil-spill-disaster/feed/ 0 http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/05/26/conyus-the-great-santa-barbara-oil-disaster-2/ http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/05/26/conyus-the-great-santa-barbara-oil-disaster-2/#comments Thu, 27 May 2010 04:36:56 +0000 Al http://alyoung.org/?p=15033 __________________________________________

To skip the run-up and go straight to the poem, scroll

The oil spill and the food web

By Dan Brennan
30 June 2010
© World Socialist Web Site

The ecological destruction of the oil disaster in the Gulf is perhaps most aptly embodied in the pictures of brown pelicans made lifeless by a thick coating of toxic sludge. However, the true toll may spread far beyond these dreadful images. Scientists warn that the gravest threat, including possible ecosystem collapse, is posed by the poisoning of organisms at the base of the food chain.
Read the rest

__________________________________________

Lessons learned from the Santa Barbara Oil Spill of January 1969

Listen

__________________________________________

Ripples of the Santa Barbara Oil Spill

L.A. Times | September 7, 2008

© L.A. Times

__________________________________________

© 1969 Associated Press

The Great Santa Barbara Oil Disaster, Or: A Diary

a poem by Conyus

Day one

We ride down the coast hwy

through the heavy rain

to a beach that sits in a rocky cove

hidden from the eye.

I sit in the rear of the bus

where the shadows pass

over cold metal walls

& window screens,

looking through dirty glass

at the somber scenery.

A young Mexican girl stands in the muddy debris

of her home, rummaging through the mud.

The river flooded suddenly two days ago

after a torrential rain & shifted the terrain.

Overhead the clouds mount menacingly

in small squalls, prostituting themselves again

against the sky, & we turn left off the freeway

into the spent community of Carpinteria

like a funeral procession on a grey Saturday,

heading to the bone yard in tandem.

Beyond the border of thin sidewalks,

sit bleached out houses on paper stilts

with tattered venetian blinds & curtains

barely moving on the stiff ocean breeze.

We walk beneath the bleeding sky

single file to the oily beach in perfect silence;

everything around us is a chemical foundry.

Day two

The 1st. night

we arrived,

the college girls

in the dormitory

across from us

paraded before

their window in

bras & panties,

being friendly.

The people

came to watch us work,

in hip boots & work gloves,

cleaning oil & shoveling straw.

Some said, “my! don’t they look almost human?”

Others said, “a convict is a crime. don’t forget that!”

Sometimes the children’s ball

bounded in our area,

& the Spanish inmates

soccer kicked it back lightly.

We all laughed

& smiled a lot

the first day.

The sunset & the night

came on slowly.

From out of the night

came gargoyles

with church fathers

& concerned parents

to tell the children

not to play

within the border of red flags

& the fence of thick cane around us.

Because,

the sky would fall

& hell would follow,

if they instilled

licentious ambitions

in our minds.

& so

we didn’t laugh

anymore, or smile

at all the second day.

From that day forward,

we just worked,

hard & steady,

with our heads

low & our eyes

to the ground,

so the sky

wouldn’t fall,

& the people

wouldn’t know,

& the world

wouldn’t burn.

Day three

All day we work behind the sea breaker

in the black sand, shoveling straw

& thick lumps of oil

into the mouth of the skip loader,

while the cat skinner rides high

in the driver’s seat with a hole for his eye.

On the beach,

in the window

of the Santa Barbara Yacht Club,

Black servants watch us

swing picks & shovels

in the wet sand

like machetes

clearing a cane field

on their small island

in the Caribbean.

On a concrete wall

below this Diaspora

i sit & swing my legs over the ice plants

& puddles of oil where sand crabs,

& small fish lie dead

& stinking in the sun.

Beneath my work jacket

i touch the crushed sandwich

of white bread & yellow cheese

& think of the young Chinese girl

in the pink hairnet with braces.

After lunch we return with rakes & hip booths,

wading through the constant tide

of thick oil & grey foam,

to gather balls of sticky oil

stuck between rocks,

& place them in yellow plastic bags.

Along the beach

the tide falls back out to sea,

taking with it the trail of our feet

that follows us like a shadow.

I turn my back to the Santa Barbara Sound

& pull the weather jacket tight

to shield against the cold & damp air.

Over my shoulder,

past the far islands near the horizon,

someone is singing a song,

that i can barely hear,

in a voice

that i cannot recognize.

The 1969 Santa Barbara Oil Spill viewed by satellite

Day four

The children

come down

to the beach

with their dogs

barking happily

at their feet.

They watch us

rake the debris

in huge piles

for the cat skinner

to eat with his shovel.

The surf around us

is a gumbo of sludge, oil,

& dead birds cooking in the sun

& salt air.

The children

throw

enormous

blocks of blue ice

into the ocean

to cleanse our sins

& methodically

the night descends

like a curtain.

Day five

The women of Santa Barbara

watch us drag driftwood

across the rocky beach

to the gas chamber at San Quentin.

They protest

against the death sentence

& the inhumanity,

of humanity,

then go home

to husbands

& kill babies

in the morning

with a small pill

while we sleep.

Day six

Green toads

croak

on the black

asphalt

rain pond.

Dawn opens

with tenderness

from the sky.

A white gull

floats face upward

in the murky surf;

i watch the tide

push the gull

against the rocks,

again & again,

& again & again.

Day seven

Pearl crack

the dawning day

is all about

the tar marred

beach.

Favonian winds

gently caresses

a face beaten

by sun & surf.

Later,

the sunset on the ocean

& there wasn’t

any confusion.

Day eight

The citizens

of Santa Barbara

brought rags

for us to wipe

our oily

black hands on.

They were in small

woven baskets of tule reed

& filled with rags & apples.

I found a red one

& wore it around my neck,

to either

love

or eat

when

i

was

alone.

Day nine

Crickets

in

the vacant field

across from us

sing the loudest

late at night

when the oil slick

devours the seacoast

like

a

blanket

of

death

in its murkiness

of

thick oil

& caskets

of

beautiful

Cadillac’s.

Day ten

(Poem to the girl seen walking

below my window at 4:00 a.m.)

I see you there

walking

on the freshly

cut grass

in bare feet.

Uncertain

about

your decision

to either

avoid

the

dark

shadows

or run

into

the kerosene night.

Day eleven

for Kiyono

All

night

i

touched

your

breast,

kissed

your

neck,

letting

the

long

black

hair

cover

me

thickly.

&

when

i

awoke,

alone,

with

only

a

love

stain

on

the

sheet

next

to

me,

i

fell

in

love

with

dreaming.

Courtesy of Environmental Studies at UC Santa Barbara

Day twelve

All these men

were standing

on tiers of confession.

Shouting at each other

from above & below,

across concrete & steel.

About injustice,

incarceration,

lock-up & lock-down.

For many years,

for many many years;

a lifetime of years,

in fact.

They stood

it seemed

forever,

hiding & laughing,

laughing & hiding,

the hatred,

the pain,

the sorrow,

the lament,

beneath

their chest.

Young men,

in cells

so dark

& lonely

at midnight

that the shadow

cast against the wall

from a bare bulb

at the end of the hall

is their only refuge

from the moans

& muffled cries

that call out

like beacons

beckoning

strangers.

Day thirteen

Wednesday

the rain

fell heavily

& the beach

is specked

with piles

of straw & driftwood.

In the afternoon

we throw cans

of gasoline

onto the piles

& watch them

evaporate

like the happiest

years of our life.

Day fourteen

We pick up the sky

& move the oil slick

like a giant anaconda’s

head;

they sit on the beach

watching us.

We place a hot badger’s claw

in the cool ashes

near the cat skinner.

They watch & move their lips slowly.

We part the tar-marred sand

& bury ourselves

in a canal of lilies & lilacs.

They turn to face each other

in bewilderment & awe

pretending they don’t see us.

Day fifteen

Beneath

the house

shadows

hide

till

dawn

comes

knocking

with death

on her arm

putting out

candles

that burn

too low.

Day sixteen

All night you can hear

the ocean cough

& spit-up oil,

like a young child

lying on its back

with pneumonia.

We clear as much phlegm

& muck from its throat as we can,

& mop his sweaty head

with oily red rags.

For thirty miles along the beach

dead bodies of sea mammals

float up & beach themselves like dominoes.

We cut the larger ones up

with chain saws & axes,

& loaded them into the

jaw of the skip loader for the cat skinner.

The rest, left bloated & stinking,

we burn with gasoline & torches

to let the fire free them.

High in the sky turkey vultures soar

above the spiraling smoke

of sweet crude oil clouds,

looking for baby seals

that have suffocated

in the thick water.

When night comes,

walking like a gravedigger,

& we have retired

for the evening,

the dead carcasses

float back out to sea,

& are torn apart

by sharks,

who die

weeks later,

from petroleum poison

along the shore

of Oregon,

& Washington.

Day seventeen

The Chinese girl

served us

the insipid

tasting food at 6:00 a.m.

in plastic gloves

& a pink hairnet

across the stainless steel

counter.

The sky

was just beginning

to show traces Aurora

in

the east,

& the country

lowered

its embattled head

in Vietnam.

Later,

when the sun

came up

on the beach,

& i was

cleaning oil, tar

& salt spume

from the beach furniture

at the yacht club.

I ate the apple

she had given me

& thought of her

in that Christian white uniform;

so pure & sterile.

Thought

that she probably

felt that she was ugly

because she wasn’t

Caucasian, light of skin,

& had blue eyes.

& so

when i took

another bowl of corn flakes

& told her that

i didn’t want the meat,

do you think,

she understood

that I was

a vegetarian?

&

that

i

loved her.

Photo: Bob Duncan

Day eighteen

The fog is thick

& cutting like a

guard’s stare

this Monday dawn.

We board the bus

in the grey light

with backpacks,

baloney sandwiches,

& lasting memories.

The young girls

in the windows

of the dormitory at UCSB

wave goodbye to us in clothes

with big smiles & sadness.

We take seats

next to a window

or aisle, in total silence

& head North out of Santa Barbara

in the wake of working nine to fivers

on a freeway that looked

like a used car lot

in Los Angeles,

spotted with potholes

& spilled oil.

We pass through small towns

on our way North

where old men

sit in bleached overalls

on dusty porches

beneath worn hats,

& hard lives.

Nondescript daughters

in faded dresses

hang work shirts

& thick quilts

in backyards to dry

while old dogs

watch us with regard.

& we pass

slowly

like a full moon

eclipse,

before them.

Day nineteen

In Morgan Hill

sitting next to

a fence post

with gray clouds

clipping the mountain

& hawks soaring

above the crest,

reminded me of freedom,

reminded me of home.

Free of oil,

free of tar,

& free.

And so when i sat back

& closed my eyes

i felt like i was dreaming

& i thought that i was free,

& i thought that i was running

& that we all were free.

Day twenty

We’re back

at the work camp

in the deep redwood forest.

Behind us is the

oil, thick tar,

& stained beaches

of Santa Barbara.

All the young girls

are already

a distant memory

& before we know it

the days will become years

& the years decades.

We measure time

in years here,

not hours,

nor months

or visits.

Some of us get stored

in cardboard & canvas,

others in cells

& dungeons,

until the next time,

when the fires come,

the earthquake hits,

or the Great Santa Barbara Oil Disaster / Or:

Conyus

February 1969

Santa Barbara, CA

Copyright © 1970, 2009 and 2010 by Conyus

Photo: Kaz Tsuruta

This celebrated poem, praised by poet Philip Levine for its powerful narrative lyricism, has been newly revised by the author. Conyus, like Levine, is a native-born Detroiter emigré to California. “The Great Santa Barbara Oil Disaster” was anthologized in Abraham Chapman’s New Black Voices (New American Library, 1972) and Daniel Halpern’s The American Poetry Anthology: Poets Under 40 (Avon Books, 1975). Recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in Creative Writing, Conyus — a former poetry editor at The Black Scholar and the Haight Ashbury Literary Journal — lives and works in San Francisco. “Wormwood,” his hilarious short story, appears in POW WOW: Charting the Fault Lines in the American Experience — Short Fiction from Then to Now, edited by Ishmael Reed and Carla Blank (Da Capo Press, 2009).

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From McCovey’s Cove, a reflective Conyus takes in the scene at San Francisco’s now historic Pac Bell Stadium, circa 2000. | © Belle Tuten

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Thad Jones | Elvin Jones | Hank Jones

© Ron Hudson Photography

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Click to watch Hank Jones’ music, conversation, and others’ stories about the magnificent pianist bring you back to life.

Courtesy photo

Henry ‘Hank’ Jones
July 31, 1918 – May 16, 2010

Slick Licks and Lazy Clichés Got No Free Ride
When He Soloed

Still growing up in Detroit, still in my teens, it was my good fortune to have met and rubbed shoulders with each of “the Jones Boys” — pianist Hank, trumpeter Thad, and little brother Elvin, a fierce drummer. Technically, they were from Pontiac, close enough to Big D for them to qualify as Detroiters. At 15 I became a regular contributor of articles and poems to Idioms, the publication of the Motor City’s New Music Society. We held meetings and edited the tabloid-sized journal at the busy bohemian home of Harold and Jodi Neal. During the day Harold climbed telephone poles for Michigan Bell, but at night and on weekends he was a serious, imaginative painter. It wasn’t unusual for musicians and other artists to attend the Sunday afternoon-into-evening meetings the Neals hosted at 824 Atkinson Street, where they were also raising their daughter Chinyere (a.k.a. Jan) and her little brother Harold, Jr. (a.k.a. Sule).

What a heady time. Even then, a non-stop reader, listener and observer of life, I seemed to understand fully how valuable this period in my development would become. Monday nights I made it to World Stage in closeby Highland Park, a theater-in-the round venue, where local and touring musicians would gather and jam on the only night that most clubs sat dark. Barry Harris, Kenny Burrell, Tommy Flanagan, Dorothy Ashby, Pepper Adams, Yusef Lateef, Donald Byrd, Doug Watkins, Earl Williams, Kirk Lightsey, Louis Hayes, Curtis Fuller, Roy Haynes, Frank Wess, Paul Chambers, Roy Brooks, Harold and Bernard McKinney, Charles McPherson, Lonnie Hillyer, Alice McLeod (the future Mrs. Coltrane), Terry Gibbs, Doug Watkins, Joe Henderson, and the Jones Boys — these are some of the musicians who showed up at World Stage or in the Neals’ diningroom, where we argued, planned and laid out Idioms.

Like saxophonist Yusef Lateef, whom I practically worshiped as a model artist, Hank Jones held a high place at my jazz altar. Born the same year as my father and the eldest of the family’s musical threesome (in all there were 10 Jones children), he had long ago emigrated from Michigan to New York, where he made a shining name for himself. But of course he would gig from time to time in the old adopted hometown. It was the strong yet gentle way did everything that stuck with me. My earliest concept of what it meant to be sophisticated flowed into me from his speaking and playing presence. His technical mastery of the keyboard, his savvy, sassy lyricism , his love and respect for the bebop repertoire as well as straight standards and popular song wasn’t wasted on me, either. Hank Jones knew what to play, what to skip, and to skip and what to leave unstated unstated. Slick licks and lazy clichés got no free ride when he soloed. Taste and class were always his signature. For me, way back then, in another troubled century, Hank Jones’ playing personified the virtues of eloquence and poise in the presence of passion. The adjective we favored was hip.

– Al Young

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Link courtesy of Muse Records’ producer Fred Seibert and ‘Kathleen Loves Music’ at Frederator Blogs: Cartoon Central of the Internet, a genuinely original site

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Peter Keepnews: Hank Jones, Versatile Jazz Pianist, Is Dead at 91 | The New York Times, May 17, 2010

Culture Obituaries: Hank Jones | Telegraph.co.uk, 17 May 2010

NPR’s All Things Considered: Legendary Pianist Hank Jones Dies at 91 | May 17, 2010

Listen

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The Official Website of Hank Jones

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Listen

Lena: A Sound Portrait of a Multifaceted Lady — her impassioned interview with Gene Dealessi at Pacifica Radio in 1966 — perfectly demonstrates the scope and conviction of this extraordinary artist and global citizen.

Courtesy photo

Courtesy photo

Cab Calloway and Lena Horne, circa 1943, in a 20th Century-Fox publicity still for the musical Stormy Weather.

Courtesy of the Noel Parrish Collection/Library of Congress

Lena Horne with the Tuskegee Airmen and Gen. Noel F. Parrish, their white commander, 1944

___________________________________________________________

“It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.”
— Lena Horne

Photo: Carl Van Vechten

Lena Horne in 1941

© Associated Press

Lena Horne in 1995

A POEM FOR LENA HORNE

And when it came down to Negro nights,
those Colored Only slices in time,
you took the cake, Lena, & ran
& danced with it, O! You were so gorgeous
they didn’t know what to do with you,
those not so gentle men at MGM & elsewhere.
Where else but in the USA’s of the world
would it go on record that you & Ava
Gardner used to knock back a few
in the palmy hours, laughing over how
the studio would darken her up from head
to toe to lip-synch & mouth the sound
of your voice for Showboat. Hurray
for Hollywood! The jewel blue you
will never be seen, only heard in the role
of Miss Julie, the octoroon swooning
under the June-jazzed Dixiemental moon.

You can laugh about it now & soften the sting.
You can smile & even do a step or two & sing
& I suppose you haven’t done bad, given
your class & origins & given the almighty odds
& the gods of showbiz heaven who own, control
& chart the color of beauty & its stars.
Tell me again about the time your numbers
banker daddy told Samuel Goldwyn he’d be happy
to pay for your maids & upkeep since
you didn’t have sense enough to understand
the movies didn’t have much use for people
of your hue. They stashed you in some doozies
too—Panama Hattie, As Thousands Cheer,
I Dood It, Swing Fever, Two Girls & a Sailor,
but the trick was to tailor you for the South.
How did they do it? Well, wasn’t much to it.
They’d log you in, then chop you out (like
lumber) for the slumbering southern houses.

I knew your son Ted, a fledgling writer, dead
to you these many years. You outlived him,
your husband and your dad who all moved out
in the very same year. I can almost hear—
sometimes when you sing—the strong & lasting
side of you that once told Billie Holiday
she had to learn to be tough, that these hucksters
didn’t mean no man no good, let alone womanhood.

You’re still lovely, Lena. Moms Mabley was wrong.
The rubberbands she said were holding your face up
are never going to snap. You are the song.

– Al Young

from SOMETHING ABOUT THE BLUES: An Unlikely Collection of Poetry

© 1992 and  2007 by Al Young

___________________________________________________________

Dennis McLellan: Lena Horne dies at 92; singer and civil rights activist who broke barriers | L.A. Times ~ May 10, 2010

Aljean Harmetz: Lena Horne, Singer and Actress, Dies at 92 | New York Times ~ May 9, 2010

Lena Horne ~ R.I.P. | A Picture Tribute | Black Voices.com

Amy Goodman: Singing Lena Horne’s Praises | truthdig ~ May 11, 2010

Singer and Civil Rights Activist Lena Horne Remembered: Amy Goodman interviews Horne biographer James Gavin | Democracy Now, May 11, 2010

Joseph McNair: Stormy Weather (Lena Horne. 1917-2010) | Asili: The Journal of Multicultural Heartspeak ~ June-September 2010

___________________________________________________________

Lena Horne sings “Stormy Weather”

Lena lays down the ABC’s with the Muppets at Sesame Street

Lena Horne biographer James Gavin on News Hour in  conversation with Jeffrey Brown

Courtesy photo

Lena Horne the Lady, the Grand Diva | Jazz Roots Rhythms (Celebrating Jazz & Global Music)

Lena Horne biography in timeline format at LenaHorne.com

Listen

Lena Horne & Sammy Davis, Jr sing “I Wish I’d Met You”
— from the Lena Horne album, The Men in My Life

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]]> http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/05/10/lena-horne-june-30-1917-may-92010-in-memoriam/feed/ 2 http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/04/29/hold-the-light-for-haiti-chile-and-china-iti-chile-and-china/ http://alyoung.org/index.php/2010/04/29/hold-the-light-for-haiti-chile-and-china-iti-chile-and-china/#comments Thu, 29 Apr 2010 23:00:24 +0000 Al http://alyoung.org/?p=13956

____________________________________________

Tenga la luz para Haiti, Chile y China
Maintenez la lumière pour Haïti, le Chili et la Chine

A BENEFIT FOR
DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS
MÉDECINS SANS FRONTIÈRES

Friday, 30th of April
6:00 pm to 9:00 pm
Islamic Cultural Center of Northern California
(ICNCC.org)
1433 Madison Street
Oakland, CA 94605

Donation: $5 to $10

MapQuest

Host | Wanda Sabir

For further information contact Kim McMillon ~ 510. 681.5652

Sponsors
Islamic Cultural Center of Northern California
PEN Oakland
Before Columbus Foundation
PEN USA
San Francisco Bayview Newspaper
A Very Nice Design Studio
BC Photography: Images of Latin America

____________________________________________

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Google publishes figures on government requests for data

By Mick Ingram
26 April 2010
© World Socialist Web Site

Google has launched a new function called the Government Requests tool [http://www.google.com/governmentrequests] that allows users to see how many requests have been made by governments for the data Google routinely collects on users.

The tool allows users to view either data requests or removal requests. The removal requests do not include the removal of child pornography or copyrighted material from YouTube as the company does this routinely. The data requests view does not give details beyond the raw number of requests received and gives no indication as to whether Google complied with the requests.

The United States is recorded having made 3,580 requests for data between July 1 and December 31, 2009, second only to Brazil with 3,663. Third in the list is United States’ main ally in the “war on terror,” the UK, with 1,166.

In an official company blog announcing the new service on Tuesday, April 20, Google cites Article 19 of the Universal Declaration on Human Rights, which reads, “Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” The company says the 1948 Article “applies aptly to today’s Internet.” Google says it believes “greater transparency will lead to less censorship.”

>>> To read this breaking story in its entirety, go to the WSWS.org original >>>

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