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Friday, June 28, 2013
FOCUS: Julian Assange
| Edward Snowden's Ordeal Is Just Beginning
Julian Assange, WikiLeaks
Assange writes: "It has now been a year since I entered this embassy and sought refuge from persecution. As a result of that decision, I have been able to work in relative safety from a US espionage investigation."
Julian Assange, WikiLeaks
Assange writes: "It has now been a year since I entered this embassy and sought refuge from persecution. As a result of that decision, I have been able to work in relative safety from a US espionage investigation."
Edward Snowden's Ordeal Is Just Beginning
23 June 13
t has
now been a year since I entered this embassy and sought refuge from
persecution.
As a result of that decision, I have been able to work in
relative safety from a US espionage investigation.
But today, Edward Snowden’s ordeal is just beginning.
Two dangerous runaway processes have taken root in the last
decade, with fatal consequences for democracy.
Government secrecy has been expanding on a terrific scale.
Simultaneously, human privacy has been secretly eradicated.
A few weeks ago, Edward Snowden blew the whistle on an ongoing
program - involving the Obama administration, the intelligence community and the
internet services giants - to spy on everyone in the world.
As if by clockwork, he has been charged with espionage by the
Obama administration.
The US government is spying on each and every one of us, but it
is Edward Snowden who is charged with espionage for tipping us off.
It is getting to the point where the mark of international
distinction and service to humanity is no longer the Nobel Peace Prize, but an
espionage indictment from the US Department of Justice.
Edward Snowden is the eighth leaker to be charged with espionage
under this president.
Bradley Manning’s show trial enters its fourth week on
Monday.
After a litany of wrongs done to him, the US government is
trying to convict him of "aiding the enemy."
The word "traitor" has been thrown around a lot in recent
days.
But who is really the traitor here?
Who was it who promised a generation "hope" and "change," only
to betray those promises with dismal misery and stagnation?
Who took an oath to defend the US constitution, only to feed the
invisible beast of secret law devouring it alive from the inside out?
Who is it that promised to preside over The Most Transparent
Administration in history, only to crush whistleblower after whistleblower with
the boot heel of espionage charges?
Who combined in his executive the powers of judge, jury and
executioner, and claimed the jurisdiction of the entire earth on which to
exercise those powers?
Who arrogates the power to spy on the entire earth - every
single one of us - and when he is caught red handed, explains to us that "we’re
going to have to make a choice."
Who is that person?
Let’s be very careful about who we call "traitor".
Edward Snowden is one of us.
Bradley Manning is one of us.
They are young, technically minded people from the generation
that Barack Obama betrayed.
They are the generation that grew up on the internet, and were
shaped by it.
The US government is always going to need intelligence analysts
and systems administrators, and they are going to have to hire them from this
generation and the ones that follow it.
One day, their generation will run the NSA, the CIA and the
FBI.
This isn’t a phenomenon that is going away.
This is inevitable.
And by trying to crush these young whistleblowers with espionage
charges, the US government is taking on a generation, and that is a battle it is
going to lose.
This isn’t how to fix things.
The only way to fix things is this:
Change the policies.
Stop spying on the world.
Eradicate secret law.
Cease indefinite detention without trial.
Stop assassinating people.
Stop invading other countries and sending young Americans off to
kill and be killed.
Stop the occupations, and discontinue the secret wars.
Stop eating the young: Edward Snowden, Barrett Brown, Jeremy
Hammond, Aaron Swartz, Gottfrid Svartholm, Jacob Appelbaum, and Bradley
Manning.
The charging of Edward Snowden is intended to intimidate any
country that might be considering standing up for his rights.
That tactic must not be allowed to work.
The effort to find asylum for Edward Snowden must be
intensified.
What brave country will stand up for him, and recognize his
service to humanity?
Tell your governments to step forward.
Step forward and stand with Snowden.
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Free Lynne Stewart Now- Damn It-Let Grandma Go Home !
(Please forward widely)
The warden of Carswell FCI agreed to forward the compassionate release petition to the DOJ. But the government has denied her plea.The time to increase the heat is now.
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Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By-In Honor Of The Frontline Defenders Of The Working Class!-Bob Marley’s “Get Up, Stand Up!”
An Injury To One Is An Injury To All!-Defend The International Working Class Everywhere!
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Fight-Don’t Starve-We Created The Wealth, Let's Take It Back! Labor And The Oppressed Must Rule!
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A Five-Point Program As Talking Points
*Jobs For All Now!-“30 For 40”- A historic demand of the labor movement. Thirty hours work for forty hours pay to spread the available work around. Organize the unorganized-Organize the South- Organize Wal-Mart- Defend the right for public and private workers to unionize.
* Defend the working classes! No union dues for Democratic (or the stray Republican) candidates. Spent the dough instead on organizing the unorganized and on other labor-specific causes (good example, the November, 2011 anti-union recall referendum in Ohio, bad example the Wisconsin gubernatorial recall race in June 2012).
*End the endless wars!- Immediate, Unconditional Withdrawal Of All U.S./Allied Troops (And Mercenaries) From Afghanistan! Hands Off Pakistan! Hands Off Iran! Hands Off Syria! U.S. Hands Off The World!
*Fight for a social agenda for working people! Quality Free Healthcare For All! Nationalize the colleges and universities under student-teacher-campus worker control! Forgive student debt! Stop housing foreclosures!
*We created the wealth, let’s take it back. Take the struggle for our daily bread off the historic agenda. Build a workers party that fights for a workers government to unite all the oppressed.
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As Isaac Deutscher said in his speech “On Socialist Man” (1966):
“We do not maintain that socialism is going to solve all predicaments of the human race. We are struggling in the first instance with the predicaments that are of man’s making and that man can resolve. May I remind you that Trotsky, for instance, speaks of three basic tragedies—hunger, sex and death—besetting man. Hunger is the enemy that Marxism and the modern labour movement have taken on.... Yes, socialist man will still be pursued by sex and death; but we are convinced that he will be better equipped than we are to cope even with these.”
Emblazon on our red banner-Labor and the oppressed must rule!
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Markin comment:
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here.
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Bob Marley Get Up, Stand Up Lyrics
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Preacher man, don't tell me,
Heaven is under the earth.
I know you don't know
What life is really worth.
It's not all that glitters is gold;
'Alf the story has never been told:
So now you see the light, eh!
Stand up for your rights. come on!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Most people think,
Great god will come from the skies,
Take away everything
And make everybody feel high.
But if you know what life is worth,
You will look for yours on earth:
And now you see the light,
You stand up for your rights. jah!
Get up, stand up! (jah, jah! )
Stand up for your rights! (oh-hoo! )
Get up, stand up! (get up, stand up! )
Don't give up the fight! (life is your right! )
Get up, stand up! (so we can't give up the fight! )
Stand up for your rights! (lord, lord! )
Get up, stand up! (keep on struggling on! )
Don't give up the fight! (yeah! )
We sick an' tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin' 'n' goin' to heaven in-a Jesus' name, lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty god is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you can't fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (what you gonna do?),
We gonna stand up for our rights! (yeah, yeah, yeah! )
So you better:
Get up, stand up! (in the morning! git it up! )
Stand up for your rights! (stand up for our rights! )
Get up, stand up!
Don't give up the fight! (don't give it up, don't give it up! )
Get up, stand up! (get up, stand up! )
Stand up for your rights! (get up, stand up! )
Get up, stand up! (... )
Don't give up the fight! (get up, stand up! )
Get up, stand up! (... )
Stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up!
Don't give up the fight! /fadeout/
A Plea For Bradley Manning From Three former Nobel Peace Prize Winners Desmond Tutu, Maraid Maguire and Adolfo Pérez Esquivel. November 14, 2012. As published by The Nationand The Guardian (UK)
Last week, PFC Bradley Manning offered to accept responsibility for releasing classified documents as an act of conscience – not as charged by the US military. As people who have worked for decades against the increased militarization of societies and for international cooperation to end war, we are deeply dismayed by the treatment of Pfc. Bradley Manning. The military under the Obama administration has displayed a desire to over-prosecute whistle-blowing with life-in-prison charges including espionage and “aiding the enemy”, a disturbing decision which is no doubt intended to set an example.
We have dedicated our lives to working for peace because we have seen the many faces of armed conflict and violence, and we understand that no matter the cause of war, civilians always bear the brunt of the cost. With today’s advanced military technology and the continued ability of business and political elites to filter what information is made public, there exists a great barrier to many citizens being fully aware of the realities and consequences of conflicts in which their country is engaged.
Responsible governance requires fully informed citizens who can question their leadership. For those citizens worldwide who do not have direct, intimate knowledge of war, yet are still affected by rising international tensions and failing economies, the WikiLeaks releases attributed to Manning have provided unparalleled access to important facts.
Revealing covert crimes in Iraq and Afghanistan, this window into the realities of modern international relations has changed the world for the better. While some of these documents may demonstrate how much work lies ahead in terms of securing international peace and justice, they also highlight the potential of the Internet as a forum for citizens to participate more directly in civic discussion and creative government accountability projects.
Questioning authority, as a soldier, is not easy. But it can at times be honorable. The words attributed to Manning reveal that he went through a profound moral struggle between the time he enlisted and when he became a whistleblower. Through his experience in Iraq, he became disturbed by top-level policy that undervalued human life and caused the suffering of innocent civilians and soldiers. Like other courageous whistleblowers, he was driven foremost by a desire to reveal the truth.
Private Manning said in chat logs that he hoped the releases would bring “discussion, debates and reforms” and condemned the ways the “first world exploits the third.” Much of the world regards him as a hero for these efforts toward peace and transparency, and he has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize as a result. However, much as when high-ranking officials in the United States and Britain misled the public in 2003 by saying there was an imminent need to invade Iraq to stop it from using weapons of mass destruction, the world’s most powerful elites have again insulted international opinion and the intelligence of many citizens by withholding facts regarding Manning and WikiLeaks.
The military prosecution has not presented evidence that Private Manning injured anyone by releasing secret documents, and it has asserted in court that the charge of “aiding the enemy through indirect means” does not require it to do so. Nor has the prosecution denied that his motivations were conscientious; it has simply argued they are irrelevant. In ignoring this context and recommending a much more severe punishment for Bradley Manning than is given to US soldiers guilty of murdering civilians, military leadership is sending a chilling warning to other soldiers who might feel compelled by conscience to reveal misdeeds. It is our belief that leaders who use fear to govern, rather than sharing wisdom born from facts, cannot be just.
We Nobel Peace Prize laureates condemn the persecution Bradley Manning has suffered, including imprisonment in conditions declared “cruel, inhuman and degrading” by the United Nations, and call upon Americans to stand up in support of this whistleblower who defended their democratic rights. In the conflict in Iraq alone, more than 110,000 people have died since 2003, millions have been displaced and nearly 4,500 American soldiers have been killed. If someone needs to be held accountable for endangering Americans and civilians, let’s first take the time to examine the evidence regarding high-level crimes already committed, and what lessons can be learned. If Bradley Manning released the documents, as the prosecution contends, we should express to him our gratitude for his efforts toward accountability in government, informed democracy and peace.
***Moody Street Blues –With Jeanbon Kerouac In Mind
From The Pen Of Frank Jackman
He was drawn like a lemming to the sea to the town, drawn to the siren call of the town, the last signposts town, Lowell home ground, from when Jean bon ruled the beat social lion night. Some automatic response deep in his brain, deep in his DNA called him every so often to go to replenish his soul, to go where Jack worked his brain with projects like seven banshees and fretted, fretted over seven hundred boyhood things. He made his way over the dusty streets, Bridge Street, Aikens Street, Merrimack Street, the vast number of streets over in three-decker tenement Pawtucketville (now sharing space with various public building modern U/Mass-Lowell campus facilities) crowded, over-crowded with the new-born screamers of new generations of different ethnic groups leaving only a remnant of the old Irish-Italian- Greek –French-Canadian screamers from Jack time. Drawn too to his river, the Jack river of his youth, the Merrimack. Ha, merry mack, mary mack, mary mack all dressed in black. Is that okay Jack, is it okay to speak that way of the ancient loomed river, the ancient dyed river, the sacred river of Om, of the rushing waters over-flowing.
He sensed the river, the river pull, the river flow, this day rapid white-capped, white- capped waves, the waters overflowing the banks creating tree lakes, oh well, tree ponds and maybe adventures, Jack adventures running toward the Dracut woods, running toward New Jack City, running toward the Frisco night and another land’s end. The historic river touched off by the mile of red, red-brick factory walls now long ago converted to historic sites or living space for the up and coming of the town. Is it still a mile of bricks like it says on the points of interest panels that dot the river edge walk though, it seemed shorter when he walked it this time? Walked it passing the old Boott Diner closed, no more hamburger/onion/eggs/burnt offerings grease smells to salivate over, Jack salivate over, thinking Jack thoughts, thinking about how he had only touched the edges of the beat, beat down, beatified night, too young to do anything but play the black-bereted mock heroic faux poet, but what did he know then. Walked along with some empty tank in his head trying to figure out how anybody could have come out of that rushing river, come out of the French-Canadian working class quarters and made that mad man big splash.
Later he walked past the high school, Jack’s school, Jack’s legend prowess football school and heroic victory over Lawrence up the river, up the not Jack part of the river and so left to herald some 1912 IWW-led textile strike as a point of interest, a last time point of interest. Jack’s skipping classes high school now vastly expanded, also public building modern like some third-rate architect low bid the world and threw every building no matter the function through a cookie cutter to, to, oh yah, save costs, to reflect added programs, added bureaucracies, and the sense that added-ness was important. Past Jack’s cavern school library hiding place, hiding from goofs, hiding from prying girls, hiding away by himself to learn two thousand facts of the known world, to read two thousand books of the known world, to be able to be ready when he day came, when his day came and he would show the world what writing was all about Hemingway/Dos Passo/Fitzgerald be damned. That is the secret Lowell, the Lowell that provided the yeast for his grand experiment when his day did come.
Then onto the great mandala fast by the Lowell Sun sign just ahead on the shortened skyline, the great mandala that some commissioned sculptor thought appropriate (hopefully not a low- bid sculptor, not for big-hearted Jack) that formed the core of Jack square, Jack memory square, Jack honored son square (well after the fact since before he was a mere beatnik, a bum, unkind to his mother, a drunk and a dope fiend to straight-laced Lowell). So he sat, sat among the marble looking this way and that at the etched words on the marbled stacks. Words from Mexico City Blues, words from Visions of Doulouz, words see.
Funny that day he sat among the marble, sat alone for a while, then a crowd, a young boy crowd, Latino, Asian, maybe a black kid and white mixed in, came to “possess” jack space. To do fandangle roller-blade tricks against the creviced landscapes. He thought back to Maggie Cassidy and a time two, maybe three now, generations removed when Jack and friends would cover the downtown area with their antics, with their foolery, with their first young manhood drunks, and with their escape back woods Lowell dreams. Funny too he sensed that day, and he hoped that he was wrong on that score, that those today young boys were totally ignorant of the sacred ground they stood on, that they showed not a whit of interest in the words that outlined their race course. What would Jeanbon say to that.
Then before he left, sobered a little by that hard forgetful fact that time stirs no ashes, except by accident, he turned, as he always did when he was called to this town, called like a lemming to the sea to read that last page, last couple of paragraphs really, from On The Road, his great escape novel, his statement to a less than candid world. That last part where he talked about his max daddy road wizard pal Dean Moriarty (nee Neal Cassady) as the father he never knew. Yah, he thought as he walked away like just like Jack Keroauc, the father we never knew too.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Free Bradley Manning Now!
Update 6/26/13: Fourth week of trial reveals the story of the unprotected diplomatic cables!
digg
The unprotected diplomatic cables!
State Department’s former Chief Technology Officer Charlie Wisecarver testified in Bradley Manning’s trial on Wednesday, saying that department specified in intense detail, down to the vodka brand, the United States’ observations of foreign powers.
To read more about this testimony and today’s trial update, please click here.
The limitations that are undermining our democracy!
Carey Shankman writes about the limitations that are undermining our democracy that the US government have posed on the Bradley Manning trial proceedings. As the trial enters its fourth week, it is anticipated that some of it will be classified from the public and the media. Carey writes “Journalists have been denied sufficient access and the public cannot see basic trial documents. Indeed, in many ways the military commissions at Guantánamo feature greater access than the Manning trial. Such limitations undermine our democracy. This trial affects our rights without allowing us a proper opportunity to observe, understand, or accurately report on it.”To read more of this OpEd, please click here
Supporters of Bradley Manning are always there!
As the court martial resumed its fourth week, almost 50 supporters showed up today to show their support of the army whistleblower. The courtroom was full with 30 people and the overflow trailer had 20 people watching with great anticipation the proceedings of the trial.
To read more about some of the loyal supporters, click here
In a Reddit Ask Me Anything discussion, Ben and Jerry’s co-founder Ben Cohen said that Edward Snowden and Bradley Manning are “incredibly courageous patriots” responding to a question he received from reddit followers.
To read on this article, please click here
Free Bradley Manning Now
Take action for Bradley on July 27, 2013
International call to action July 27, 2013!
Please join us in what will likely be the last internationally coordinated show of support for Bradley before military judge Col. Denise Lind reads her final verdict–which we expect some time in August. The July 27 ”International Day of Action” coincides with the anticipated sentencing phase of Bradley’s trial. The outcome of that phase of the trial will result in Bradley receiving any outcome from time served to life in prison.
With a thousand supporters marching on Fort Meade, Bradley Manning’s trial finally began on June 3rd. We’re asking supporters to organize events in communities across the globe to do whatever possible to influence the outcome of Bradley’s trial.
The end of July also marks the third anniversary of the release of the Afghan War Diary which revealed the realities of pain and abuse suffered by many thousands in Afghanistan.
Contact campaign organizer Emma Cape at emma@bradleymanning.org if you are interested in organizing a solidarity event or action in your community. Help us send a message to Judge Lind that millions stand with Bradley!
View list of solidarity events around the world and/or register your own!
***Out In The 1950s Film Noir Night– Joe Spain’s Saga
From The Pen Of Frank Jackman
But Dora Mackay from cheap streets England did not know how to take no for an answer when she had had her wanting habits on. So she tried the rooty-toot-toot on Detective Sergeant Joseph Spain. And that was her last act on this earth as Joe put one right through her heart, or the place where her heart would be if she had a heart. But here again where guys get squirrely over dames. Joe has finished up his story the same way every time since he has been coming in. He always wonders out loud whether he should have just run off with Dora and left everything else behind. Yah that Dora Mackay must have been something else.
That Dora MacKay, Devil Dora, he called her, must have been something else, must have been a real devil like he called her. The he in question being Detective Sergeant Joe Spain, one of San Francisco’s finest, and that was meant in a couple of ways. For a cop he was a flashy dresser not some off the rack stuff, ill-fitted and rumbled like most of the cops who come into my place, The Last Chance Bar & Grille, the place where I work as the night bartender, and have for the past four years. They come in, come in at all hours, in all conditions, but inevitably all rumbled up since The Last Chance is right across the street from Police Headquarters. Except, like I say, Joe Spain who no matter what the time of day always looked like a guy who could pass for a wise guy, a connected guy, another kind of guy who shows up in my place. Joe said one time when I asked him why he took such pains to dress up in a well-fitted suit, shoes shines, a nice soft hat set at a rakish angle on his head that he wanted to make the wise guys think, think for just a minute, that he could be bought off, could be on the take.
And that brings me to the second way. Joe also had the reputation, a hard- earned reputation for being not for sale, for being not in somebody hip pocket and was ready to fight anybody who differed on that estimation. The first night I worked here I tried to give him a scotch on the house after he broke up what could have been a serious brawl that, big as I am. I would have had trouble squelching and he just put his money plus tip, on the bar counter. He wouldn’t even take an offered pull of beef jerky from me. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time a cop did that, left a tip that is, or for that matter paid for a drink if he could help it, or didn’t eat everything edible on the counter. But this story is not about Joe’s virtues, sartorial or moral, or just a little, but about this Dora dame that was on his mind a lot when he got in a certain mood.
See Detective Sergeant Joseph Spain had sent this Dora over about five years before, a while before I got here, so he felt duty-bound to tell me about her. Tell me how he had to send her over. Now most cops, and Joe agreed on this when I pressed him on it one time, do a job, close a case and forget about it. They certainly don’t go on about it five years later but this Dora case, Joe just couldn’t let go. Some nights when he came in and had his usual two scotches, his self-imposed limit, that that would be it. But if he asked for a third then I knew he had Dora on his mind and would tell me, or whoever he could corral sitting at the bar, all about the case. I got so I could almost recite the thing before Joe got the thought out of his mouth. Here it is the way I can tell it, tell it as a guy who was from nowhere on the case, and had never been in Dora’s clutches like Joe almost was at the end. “Almost” he would always say but in the cold sober light of day he played the percentages like everybody else and since Dora had sent three guy to their just or unjust rewards he didn’t want to be number four when Dora got her wanting habits on. But I am getting ahead of myself so let me go back and reconstruct Joe’s saga for you and maybe it will make more sense why he did what he did.
Joe said he followed up on Dora’s background somewhat after he sent her over and then when the trail got cold, real cold, he just let it go, let what he knew stand as it was. She came out of England someplace before the war, World War II, which was rough on the English. Dora, like a lot of us including Joe, had come out of some cheap mean streets and once she blew the dust off those streets off she swore she wasn’t going back. She had been involved in a jack-roller scheme with a couple of small-time hoods in Manchester and had received probation since she was a minor when one of the victims complained, complained to the cops. Later she did a little time working in some high- grade whore house in London until she got tired of the wear and tear. Then after the war she headed over here to America landing in New York, and landing in some gangster’s lap at the Kit Kat Club where she worked as a “hostess.” When that connected guy got wasted, got found face down with a couple of slugs in him, in some turf war she blew town and headed to Frisco.
That is really where Joe’s story begins but he insisted on telling her early history to show she was no frail violet who just got mixed up with some wrong gees because she didn’t know better. No, she knew the score, knew it cold, and maybe knew it from day one- get yours while the getting is good She was working in a dime-a-dance joint over in North Beach when she met Frankie, Frankie Murphy the bank robber who is still remembered around this town as very good at his trade.
Now Frankie Murphy was from the old school, old school as far banks goes, which was to work alone, mainly, grab the dough at the point of a gun and blow the joint. He was also old school as far as women went, when he was out of stir and in the clover. All his dough would go to keeping his women in style and this is all that Dora needed to hear. Now this Frankie was not anything to look at but he was true to his word on dough, and when that ran out he would just rob another bank. So Dora held her nose and stuck with Frankie, stuck with him up in a nice apartment he provided and with dough for clothes and other expenses. Of course Dora got the taste for fine things as any woman from cheap street, or for that matter any woman from Mayfair, would, and Frankie’s so money got kind of low more quickly carrying her freight and so he needed to put together another heist. This time would be no nickel and dime thing though but a big caper, a big caper indeed, holding up an armored truck when it was vulnerable sitting at bank.
Well one thing you could say for Frankie he certainly knew his stuff because he actually pulled it off, pulled off the biggest heist around, pulled down 400, 000 big ones. Although there were a couple of complications, first, in the melee Frankie killed a guard, killed him dead, and second, when Frankie got to Dora’s with no dough she started squawking about telling her where the dough was and telling Frankie to get the hell away from her since he was radioactive with a cop killing hanging over his head. She wound up squawking with a little gun when Frankie wouldn’t tell her where the dough was and he tried to attack her. That was her story anyway. So that was guy number one, and that is really where Joe Spain first ran into one Dora Mackay. Ran into her while he was investigating the whole Frankie robbery and killing case. He wasn’t afraid to admit to anybody who would listen that he was attracted to her right from the first moment he saw her, although he didn’t believe her story for a minute. But when a woman cries self-defense against some big lug known to be a cop-killer and who robs banks for a living who is going to go screwy over the details. Not Joe, not Joe with the big Dora eyes.
Here is where guys are funny though, maybe screwy when it comes to dames because Frankie wanted to make sure that Dora was taken care of , but didn’t trust her enough to tell her where the dough was. Wasn’t sure whether she was two-timing him or not with some other guy, an occupational hazard with crooks, and with guys without good looks. So all he had in his pockets when Dora sifted through them looking for some clue was Vince Malone’s telephone number and address. She assumed that Vince might have a clue where the money was so she telephoned him, made a date to meet and see what happened. Here is where dames are smart though. At their meeting one night at the Red Hat Club Dora put on her best come hither performance, really outdid herself for Vince. And Vince, nothing but a con man and skirt-chaser in real life, did what every con man not working a con himself does, and bought into her con. Although that part came later after they had slipped under a few sheets and she had him all worked up. After that it was like taking candy from a baby for Dora.
Until the other shoe dropped. The other shoe for Vince. Once she had hoodwinked Vince into giving out the spot where the moola was she went rooty-toot-toot on the late Vince Malone, RIP. Nice, right. So naturally Dora’s defense was that Vince tried to attack her, attack her for chrissakes and she had to shoot him in, ah, self-defense. Joe got that case too and while he, and half the citizens of Frisco town, were more than happy to see the cockroach go down under Joe was getting a little weary of Dora’s explanations. Still he was interested in her, more so when she planted a sweet kiss on his lips in thanks, thanks for who knows what. Yah, he was hooked, hooked bad but that wasn’t the end of it.
Dora, no question was a man-trap and being one included grabbing every stray guy who crossed her path in order to pursue her goal of getting that damn dough, that cool 400K even if she had to split it, at least that is what she had talked herself into. Frankie, not trusting a soul, a female soul anyway, had made sure that any two-timing dame was not going to get his money if she wasn’t on the square so he gave the directions to Vince but those directions led to Luther Adler, Luther an old con whom Frankie had known at the Q (San Quentin if you don’t know what Q means). Luther was holding a strong box with the kale in it although he didn’t know what was in the box, at least that is what he told Dora. But being an old con Luther wanted to see the contents of the box to see if he maybe was due a cut for services rendered to his old jailbird pal. Dora, naturally, tried the old come hither approach but Luther wasn’t buying into that trap. It didn’t matter though, didn’t matter at all, since Dora in her frenzy for the money put two right through his heart. Finished, done, all the dough was hers, and well- earned.
Well, almost done. And here is where Joe Spain comes in as a cop, a good cop, a cop that couldn’t be bought. After the phooey incident with Vince he began to tail Dora (also he wasn’t sure whether she didn’t have another guy on the line despite that big kiss back at Vince’s place) and that led him to Luther’s just after he heard those two shots that Dora blasted him with. Joe knocked on Luther’s door, Dora answered, and as he entered the room he saw Luther sprawled out on the floor. Dead, dead as a doornail. He confronted Dora who at least didn’t try the attack dodge this time. She merely went over to Joe, planted another big kiss on his lips, and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Her, her sex, and the dough, simple. Joe hesitated, thinking through his options. He was tempted, strongly tempted until he took another look in Luther’s direction and then said nix.
But Dora Mackay from cheap streets England did not know how to take no for an answer when she had had her wanting habits on. So she tried the rooty-toot-toot on Detective Sergeant Joseph Spain. And that was her last act on this earth as Joe put one right through her heart, or the place where her heart would be if she had a heart. But here again where guys get squirrely over dames. Joe has finished up his story the same way every time since he has been coming in. He always wonders out loud whether he should have just run off with Dora and left everything else behind. Yah that Dora Mackay must have been something else.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
***When Radio Ruled The Air-Waves
From The Pen Of Peter Paul Markin
CD Review
Stardust: The Classic Decca Hits and Standards Collection, various artists, Decca Records, MCA, 1994
I am a first generation child of the television age, although in recent years I have spent more time kicking and screaming about that fact than watching the damn thing. Nevertheless I can appreciate this little compilation of Decca hits and standard tunes from the 1940s and 1950s as a valentine to the radio days of my parents’ youth, parents who came of musical age (and every other kind of age as well) during the Great Depression of the 1930s and who fought, or waited for those out on the front lines fighting, World War II. I am just old enough though, although generation behind them, to remember the strains of songs like the harmonic –heavy Mills Brothers Paper Dolls (a favorite of my mother’s) and The Glow Worm (not a favorite of anybody as far as I know although the harmony is still first-rate) that came wafting, via the local Adamsville radio station WJDA, through our big box living room radio in the early 1950s. It seemed they, or maybe the Andrews Sisters, be-bopping (be-bopping now, not then, you do not want to know what I called it then), on Rum And Coca-Cola or tagging along with Bing Crosby on Don’t Fence Me In were permanent residents of the airs-waves in the Markin household.
I am also an unapologetic child of Rock 'n' Roll but those above-mentioned tunes were the melodies that my mother and father came of age to and the stuff of their dreams during World War II and its aftermath. The rough and tumble of my parents raising a bunch of kids might have taken the edge off it but the dreams remained. In the end it is this musical backdrop, behind the generation musical fights that roils the Markin household in teen times, that makes this compilation most memorable to me. Just to say names like Dick Haymes (I think my mother had a “crush” on him at some point), Vaughn Monroe, The Inkspots (who, truth, I liked even then, even in my “high, Elvis, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee, Buddy Holly days, especially on If I Didn’t Care and I’ll Get By-wow), and Louis Armstrong. Or songs like Blueberry Hill, You’ll Never Know, A- Tisket- A Tasket, You Always Hurt The One You Love and so gather in a goodly portion of the mid-20th century American Songbook. Other talents like Billie Holiday, The Weavers, and Rosemary Clooney and tunes like Lover Man (and a thousand and one Cole Porter Billie-sung songs), Fever, and As Time Goes By (from Dooley Wilson in Casablanca) came later through very different frames of reference. But the seed, no question, no question now, was planted then.
Let’s be clear as well going back to that first paragraph mention of television - there something very different between the medium of the radio and the medium of the television. The radio allowed for an expansion of the imagination (and of fantasy) that the increasingly harsh realities of what was being portrayed on television did not allow one to get away with. The heart of World War II, and in its immediate aftermath, was time when one needed to be able to dream a little. The realities of the world at that time seemingly only allowed for nightmares. My feeling is that this compilation will touch a lot of sentimental nerves for the World War II generation (that so-called ‘greatest generation’), including my growing-up Irish working- class families on the shores of North Adamsville. Nice work.
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