News of the Restless

Music for a Sunday: No one can give us shit

Posted on April 3, 2016 by Sabina Becker

Since I’m feeling alienated today, I figured I might as well dance to it:

I used to run, I used to hide…I will not hide…I’m gonna find my way to fight…

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Music for a Sunday | Comments Off

When rape culture calls itself Justice, and the papers defend it as such

Posted on April 2, 2016 by Sabina Becker

battered-justice

Many years ago, when I was a j-school student, I got interviewed by the Globe and Mail, for an internship I didn’t get. At the time, it was cause for some chagrin: a plum big-city reporting job, missed! What made this rejection sting even more was the fact that the two suit-clad men interviewing me were snotty and patronizing. (For of course, they would be men, and they would be suits; the Grope and Flail, which styles itself our “national newspaper”, is nothing if not at least fifty years behind the rest of our country.) Oh, I’m sure they thought they were being subtle and clever, and concealing their classist barbs as genuine curiosity about what made openly leftist little old me tick. But my skin being a lot thinner than theirs, I felt the lash immediately. And being better mannered than they, I kept my breakfast down, and blocked all the pain until the inevitable form rejection letter landed in my cubbyhole.

Twenty-odd years later, I’m actually grateful to those two twits (whose names I have mercifully forgotten). Because they tipped their hand early and adroitly as jerks I didn’t want to be working under, yes. But also because they, in their establishmentarianism passing itself off as journalistic rectitude, inadvertently saved me. They saved me from getting sucked into the same system that made erudite imbeciles of them. And from having to maybe one day cook up the same kind of sloppy hash as Tabatha Southey, who I thought was so much better than this. I would hope it’s just a huge April Fool’s joke, but the punchline is missing.

Southey’s piece is headlined, cutely: “Upset about the Jian Ghomeshi verdict? Don’t get mad – get informed”. Sweet, eh? So nice of her to tell us that we’re only mad because we’re not “informed”. And she, as designated chill-girl spokeslady for the most establishmentarian paper in the land, is helpfully here to “inform” us. As though the trial itself were not “information” enough already, now we’re getting insult on top of injury. The injury was to our already shaky faith in the system, and to our hope that it might deliver some measure of justice to three women wronged by the same man; the insult is to our collective intelligence as Canadian women.

It may not have occurred to Tabatha Southey that we are angry not because we are uninformed about the way our hallowed legal system works, but because we know all too well. We know that it was designed by men for men; that it was designed to shield power from challenges to power; that it was designed to put an inordinate burden of proof on sexual-assault complainants — who are overwhelmingly female, and often under-age — ostensibly so that the defendant isn’t “unfairly” convicted. And so that even on the off chance that he is convicted fair and square, he doesn’t end up doing much time for it, and so missing valuable years out of his precious male life.

But guess what, Tabs? None of this is any great arcane secret. One doesn’t have to be a lawyer to understand how the system works. You haven’t told us anything we can’t all rattle off by heart, rolling our eyes as we go. Some of us even know it from personal experience. (I’ll get to that in a bit.)

We are also mad because we know that Canada has rape-shield laws in place to prevent precisely the kind of illegal, unethical complainant-whacking that Marie Henein engaged in, and that Judge Horkins illegally, unethically allowed. I’m not sure why Tabatha Southey isn’t; her own paper even printed an article by two law professors explaining it clear as day.

And yes, Tabatha, we know that Marie Henein — yawn — represented Bedford et al during their own legal clown-show, pro bono, because we all followed it. Bully for her! She was making so much that she could afford to forego her fee in this one case! But that’s not proof that she’s a great feminist. Terri-Jean Bedford is hardly what anyone who actually understands the word would call a feminist, either; no woman who employs other women to serve men’s sexual whims, in the absence of all desire of their own, can call herself that without a great deal of inadvertent irony. A pimp is a pimp, regardless of gender. Women who make their boodle in the service of rape culture — even if it’s a great deal of boodle — are not actually practicing feminism. Not even if they believe in feminism personally and preach it from the highest roof-peak of the federal courthouse. Sorry to have to tell you that, ladies.

And it’s really not feminist for any woman, even a respected columnist from a respected newspaper, to snobbishly patronize other women who are angry for good cause, either.

But to be fair, Tabatha Southey and her ilk — of whom there are plenty among our female journalists — don’t know me from Eve. So introductions are in order:

Hello, ladies of the establishmentarian Canadian press. And hello, too, to all the not-so-gentle men lurking behind those ladies’ skirts. My name is Sabina Becker, and I am a rape survivor.

Before I was raped, I was also sexually assaulted by someone else. And I have never reported any of these assaults to police, nor do I ever intend to.

It’s not that I don’t feel strongly that I have been wronged, or that these men don’t deserve to have their “good” names sullied. It simply boils down to this: I have no desire to face the criminal trial process. I already know full well what’s entailed, having sat through it at the side of a friend who was also raped. It was a grotty experience even at second hand, and I have no desire to replicate that humiliation for myself.

And before that, as a student volunteer at the Queen’s Women’s Centre, I learned some facts, damn facts, and statistics about the prevalence of sexual assault in Canada. And I also learned of the incredibly poor conviction rate that’s built right into our justice system, on the back of that high standard of proof that you all celebrated recently. I’ve published them here before, but since it appears that you “informed” people are not privy to that particular information, here is the chart again:

Maddening, isn’t it? But it tells you all you need to know about why I will never press charges against the man who raped me, or the others who assaulted me. With those odds stacked against me, I’d be a fucking fool to try.

It should also tell you why we “uninformed” women are so angry at the system for working so perfectly as designed. What’s the good of involving oneself in a process that will almost invariably dash all your hopes and leave you victimized all over again? We may be “uninformed”, but we are not masochists.

I realize that I’m not being a “good” victim. That since I’ve decided to stay out of criminal court, I should at least pretend to be more “virtuous” than I am. That if I’m not going to report, I probably shouldn’t be telling anyone this, because it might “damage” me in the eyes of the world. That under rape culture, I as a victim should be hiding my “shame”, for fear that worse and more of the same might befall me later. I’m well aware that if I don’t intend to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” before a learned (and usually male) judge, I should turn around and be a good little liar, to protect my abusers. And that I should hypocritically praise, and never once criticize, the system that failed me then and still continues to fail Canadian women and girls, all the time, by design.

But here’s why I don’t want to play along: I am not ashamed of what happened to me, because I am not the perpetrator in any of those assaults. I’m just the woman who happened to be there when the men in question decided they would exercise their normal social privilege in the grossest manner. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else. Those guys may not have been rich and famous like Jian Ghomeshi, but like him, they knew exactly what they were doing. Of that I have no doubt, “reasonable” or otherwise. Their slickness and self-assurance bespeaks practice in the not-so-fine art of sexual abuse. So why feel guilty for being the victim of a sexual assault? And why be ashamed?

I am not “damaged”, because I am not “goods”; I am a person, and I am the same person I was before any of it happened. The only thing that they damaged was my trust.

No, I’m not a good victim. And if any man decides to try his luck with me later because he reads that I’ve already had an unwanted dick in my mouth, well — he’s going to find out the hard way that I have learned self-defence. I did that during j-school, when I lived in Toronto. I had to. Because if the law can’t and won’t protect me, I sure as hell can — and WILL.

I’ve had years to prepare for this statement. I knew I would have to make it at some point. And the benefit of another legal experience has taught me the importance of preparing every word I have to say.

You see, I was the infant plaintiff in a civil action. At 14, I got hit by a car, driven by a man who thought it would be clever to pass a stopping school bus and so shave a few seconds off his morning commute. What he got out of it was a deeply dented left headlight, and what I got was a badly broken pelvis.

At 16, I took him to court for it, and cleaned out his insurance to the tune of $15,000. Which was a good $1500 more than my excellent Toronto lawyer was asking on my behalf. I was advised that I might not see a cent of it if I did not present as a credible witness, so I learned how to answer questions firmly and describe all events just as they happened. No “I guess” or “maybe” or “I think” allowed. No room for doubt, reasonable or otherwise. My lawyer coached me to expect a certain amount of victim-blaming, and he did an excellent job. I stood firm. And I won my case.

What my lawyer taught me then, about speaking up, I still practice every time I sit down to write — be it fiction, poetry, an essay, or this blog entry. But aside from that, I also learned a valuable lesson on where to go for justice. Since the man who hit me with his car didn’t serve any jail time, I had to seek redress through civil justice, not its grimy criminal twin. I can even say, with some pride, that my case helped lead to a change in traffic law: All Ontario school buses are now required to have swing-out stop signs, and drivers who blast by a stopping bus are now subject to harsher penalties than the one who hit me was.

I can certainly see the value of a civil action against a sexual assailant, if one is sufficiently motivated to bring one. I’m not. I don’t recall enough boring-yet-crucial details of what was done to me, such as the exact spelling of the assailants’ names (yes, it counts), or the precise dates and times in question. I may be too scared (still!) to own a driver’s licence, but at least now I know how to throw a lethal punch, and how to navigate the legal system. And when not to bother.

Oh hell, I even know about the rather clannish ties between Marie Henein and Judge Horkins, which you complacent media mavens do not dare to touch. Even though, technically speaking, it is your JOB to touch that, and many other touchy issues besides. I’d ask you why, but I already know. Yours is a small industry, and it’s shrinking by the day. The cost of truth is too high for any one of you to bear; your job is directly dependent on you telling us not what we need to hear, but what your owners want you to tell us peons so we won’t revolt in the streets, like Venezuelans during the Caracazo. Your job isn’t to inform us, it’s to tamp us the fuck down. And your job, though you don’t want to admit it, is precarious.

You can spare me the condescending lectures about the day when I will need our legal system to blah-blah-blah for me. That day has been and is now long gone. I am a woman; I know what it’s like to be presumed guilty even when I can prove that I am innocent. I keep my head down from force of habit, and I’m poking it up now just long enough to tell you all to fuck the hell off with that shit.

Now if you’ll all excuse me, I feel a song coming on.

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Confessions of a Bad German, Crapagandarati, Human Rights FAIL, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, Law-Law Land, Not So Compassionate Conservatism, Sick Frickin' Bastards, Uppity Wimmin | Comments Off

Wankers of the Week: Rob Ford Memorial Edition

Posted on April 1, 2016 by Sabina Becker

Crappy weekend, everyone! Well, how about that Rob Fucking Ford? They say you’re not supposed to say anything but good of the dead, so here goes: He’s dead? GOOD! Ahem. He’ll be kinda-sorta missed around here, since he was such a reliable source of fodder for your humble scribe, but let’s face it, Bumbaclot McBumblefuck has an awful lot of competition in the wank department. And here it comes now to bury him, in no particular order:

1. Donald Fucking Drumpf. Because when even right-wing radio is turning against you, you KNOW you’re déclassé. Someone please remind Der Drumpf that this is not a beauty pageant for prospective first ladies, it’s a primary race for the, you know, ACTUAL FUCKING PRECANDIDATES. No one cares about your wives and mistresses, boys. For fuck’s sake come up with some better policies than “my wimmin are hotter than yours”, or go the fuck home. PS: Serial adulterer says WHAT? Donnie, if you wanna cut the abortion rate way down, keep your fucking zipper done up.

2. Davis Fucking Aurini. Huzzah, The Sarkeesian Effect (his version) is finally out! And now we know why Skullboy McBoozensmokes never graduated from film school. It’s because he put all his effort into overwrought fascist bombast, and had nothing left over for basic filmic competence. I would feel sorry for all the idiots who contributed to his and Jordan Fucking Owen’s Patreon, but let’s face it, none of them knows what goes into a real documentary, either. Nor do they even care. They paid for a hatchet job, and that’s what they got. Even if it is less watchable than peeling lead paint.

3. Yitzhak Fucking Yosef. Not that the Israeli government really needed a rabbi’s kosher sanction for a Palestinian genocide, but hey, he’s just given them one. Mazel tov!

4. Doug Fucking Ford. Even at his own brother’s wake, Dougie just couldn’t stop tooting his own damn horn. Remember that when he tries to run for office again — whatever office THAT may be.

5. Pat Fucking McCrory. Gubnor, your “clarifications” are clear as mud. Which, if I’m not mistaken, makes them not clarifications, but obfuscations. No, no, DON’T try to “clarify” again. That giant stampeding noise you’re hearing is people and businesses abandoning your state and all its institutionalized bigotry.

6. Debbie Fucking Riddle. I’ve never seen a woman acting overtly sexy while breast-feeding, but apparently this proponent of public “modesty” has. Which makes me wonder where she’s looking, what she’s looking at, and WHY.

7. Tucker Fucking Carlson. Isn’t it quaint how Bowtie Boy clings to the idiotic notion that one can be “racist against white people”? It’s almost as quaint as how he clings to that idiotic fratboy haircut he’s still wearing thirty-odd years after the fact.

8. Safya Fucking Roe Fucking Yassin. Why the double Fucking? Because that’s how stupidly attention-starved you have to be to make 97 Twitter accounts, PLUS push antivaxxer/chemtrail hoaxes, PLUS threaten FBI agents as a supposed supporter of Daesh.

9. Gary Fucking Herbert. Anesthesia would be a good idea for late-term abortions, yes…but only if it’s local, and not due to any of your backward notions about fetal pain. How about a bit more consideration for the woman, who wouldn’t be having such a procedure if there wasn’t a very good chance that the fetus was going to die, if not dead already?

10. Marie Fucking Henein. No, of COURSE you didn’t betray women, lady. Hey, money’s money, right? And whacking the complainant is illegal. You broke the rape shield law…for Jian Ghomeshi’s sweet, sweet money. Even leaving the victims’ gender (and yours) completely out of it, that’s fucking disgusting.

11. Debra Fucking Reed. Oh sure, you took a tiny pay cut over that methane leak (which is still leaking!) near Porter Ranch. But then you got a bonus? How the fuck does that even WORK?

12. Niall Fucking Ferguson. Nice try at making the left look deranged, dude. But there’s still the problem of all the things Henry Fucking Kissinger did to make us despise him so!

13. Brandon Fucking Curtiss. “When tyranny becomes law, rebellion becomes mandatory”, eh? I bet that goes double for when you owe disgusted clients their money back — and your ex a shitload of child support!

14. Joy Fucking Montiel. This woman, in a nutshell, is why Der Drumpf loves the uneducated: They make fools of themselves so he doesn’t have to. Just like a paper billionaire to outsource all the real work, eh?

15. Kristen Fucking Johnson. Sending dick pics isn’t for men only anymore. And as luck would have it, it’s not for this (now former) nurse, either.

16. Jim Fucking Tomes. “Pay to Pee” for transfolks? How about “Leave ‘em Be”, instead?

17. Jeff Fucking Melanson. Wow. For those of you who thought that the phrase “Canadian classical music scene” must be synonymous with “snoozeworthy” — here’s living proof that you were wrong. Personally, though, I’d much rather it WERE a snoozer. This guy is terrible.

18. Don Fucking Young. In case the propeller beanie didn’t give it away, we have a conspiracy wingnut spinning madly here. And one who doesn’t seem to realize that even the wicked old Soviet Union didn’t exercise as much control over people’s lives and minds as he thinks Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders might, because it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to do so.

19. Chris Fucking Christie. He runs New Jersey…and yet he controls nothing. Including his own snacking habits.

20. Katrina Fucking Pierson. Yes, still babbling. Yes, still inane. No, not fired yet. Why? Because the only thing bigger than her idiocy is her boss’s, and his is YUGE.

21. Nathan Fucking Crisp. Like Drumpf, like executive: Thuggy, thuggy, THUGGY.

22. Wendy Fucking Bell. Racial profiling is criminal when the police do it. And when the media do it? That’s not just a wank, that’s a FIRING wank.

23. John Fucking Kasich. Meanwhile, over in the Repugnican clown car, racial profiling — and racist, sexist blaming of black women — is just bidness as usual. Anyone still wondering why the party’s tanking? There’s yer answer. PS: Aaaand BOOM. Ha, ha.

24. Paul Fucking Elam. What? He’s QUITTING THE MEN’S RIGHTS MOVEMENT??? Given that it came a day before April Fool’s, I’m guessing this was not a joke…it was a real flounce. And, given that he’s a fool every day of the year, it’s also a real wank.

25. Ted Fucking Nugent. Yup, he’s racist. And in case there was ever any doubt, now there’s proof. Complete with the N-word and a racist cannibal caricature. And, coward that he is, he pretends it’s a real moving company in Detroit, when anyone can see that it’s a racist forgery. (Real movers don’t drive minivans, idiot.)

26. Israel Fucking Katz. Behold, the apartheid government of Israel, which styles itself the Middle East’s only democracy, and the most moral country in the world. And how do they pay lip service to democracy and morality? By calling for the assassination of anyone who doesn’t fall in line, and who dares call for boycotts, divestment, and sanctions against apartheid!

27. Scottie Nell Fucking Hughes. No, the “liberal” media don’t use abortion to trap Repugs. They do that all by themselves, every time they stick their big ol’ feet in their big ol’ mouths.

28. Theodore Fucking Shoebat. And speaking of feet in mouths, how about him? Calling for the murder of women who’ve had abortion? Ain’t no liberal media types making him say that. Nope, it’s just him shooting off his batshit mouth all on his oddy knocky.

29. Maxime Fucking Bernier. Meanwhile in Canada, the local bat guano is also shooting off its mouth…and wishing for “freedom” like they have in China. Yes, I’m sure all the Foxconn suicides see it that way, too.

30. Gene Fucking Simmons. Der Drumpf, “good for politics”? That’s like saying that Gene Fucking Simmons was good for music. Sorry not sorry, dude, you walked right into THAT one.

And finally, to all the butthurt feckin’ redneck eejits of Frod Nation. Who will no doubt express their puny indignation in the comments section, if they dare to do it anywhere. Too bad, so sad. Your “nation” is kaputt, and it’s not gonna rise again. Go smoke some crack, maybe you’ll be reunited with your cat-munching idol. My cats and I will just be sitting here, breathing kitty-sighs of relief and sipping tea, respectively. And my tea is only gonna taste sweeter with your tears in it.

Good night, and get fucked!

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The Stones in Havana: Who paid for that “free” concert?

Posted on March 28, 2016 by Sabina Becker

rolling-stones-cuba-concert

Coño, indeed.

Now that all the dust has settled after the Stones oh-so-historically played in Havana, it’s time to start asking some hard questions about their “free” concert. After all, Mick Jagger is a notorious greedyguts; he’s even been known to stiff the ladies of paid company when purchasing their services. It’s hard to imagine him doing anything out of the goodness of his little puny heart, which makes the Grinch’s pre-epiphany ticker look downright gargantuan. There’s about as much goodness in a dried-up dog turd. So, let’s follow the money with El Confidencial:

The “who”, “when” and “where” have been the centre of attention for weeks. The Rolling Stones would perform at the Ciudad Deportiva de La Habana on March 25 before an audience of an estimated half-million spectators. Those are the facts which the news agencies have been replicating politely since the news came out on February 29. Also the “how”: It will be a free open-air megaconcert. But this time the dimensions of this “how” go far beyond the set list (from “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” to “Brown Sugar” through “It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll”, “Paint It Black”, “Sympathy for the Devil”…) and we really have to bring ourselves to ask the real “why” of the Cuban concert.

Regarding such an exceptional event, the question is not whether they played “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” or not. Yes, there was something missing. When it comes to the Rolling Stones’ visit to Cuba, the essential question is: Who paid for all this?

The Cuban government would not pay for such astronomical cachet as that of the Stones, even if it were in a position to do so, cost it what it might. Come on, Cuba isn’t like the Deutsche Bank, which is able to put up four million euros, as it did in 2007 so that the Jagger/Richards band would play for 600 of their most select clients in the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. The Rolling Stones don’t leave their homes if there isn’t lots and lots of money on the table. And the estimated cost of the Havana concert was about $7 million. So…

According to Billboard magazine, neither the Stones nor AEG, the company that runs their tours, would make any money off the Havana concert. However, the same source speaks of a stage requiring 61 shipboard containers, a Boeing 747, and 350 persons to transport it. The promoters babbled on and on about the concert as “an historic embrace between the Cuban people and the international musical community”, but the truth is that the Stones staged absolutely everything. Cuba brought the public and the applause.

Behind this monumental display is the Fundashon Bon Intenshon. No, that’s not a Sacha Baron Cohen joke, but a charitable foundation which also sponsors a soccer team for disadvantaged kids from an orphanage, or puts on a jazz festival with Sting, Rubén Blades, Chic, Stevie Wonder, Juan Luis Guerra, Alicia Keys, and whoever else. Based on the island of Curaçao, one of the former Dutch Antilles, the FBI (those are its initials!) is a philanthropic project of Gregory Elias, whose charitable works are principally located on the island itself.

At the same time, Elias is president of United Trust, one of the leading financial advisor firms of that Caribbean fiscal paradise. United Trust presents itself to the world of high and labyrinthine finance via this declaration: “We are proud of our ability to follow the laws which regulate some of the most challenging financial situations in all the world.” And then they clarify: “In fact, the people of United have helped to shape the law which regulate the financial services sector.” It’s a subtle way of suggesting to their clients that they know how to adjust themselves to legality, given that they have contributed to designing it. The Antillean business makes a big show of transparency, but what it won’t reveal in the web is the names of its clients.

The United Trust website is a model of transparency in other senses. For example, it helps to give an idea of the concerns and needs of those it represents. In the article “Towards unity in the superyacht sector”, it asks “how to unite the superyacht sector to create a situation with greater equality of opportunity in the most competitive way.” That’s not what 99% of people are asking in actual reality, but the Cuban coast is one of the most coveted treasures for foreign investors. Cuba would be an ideal port of call for cruise lines, and for harborage of private yachts. Just the Punta Colorada Complex, planned for the province of Pinar del Río, will have port facilities for 1400 megayachts. And while Pope Francis, Obama and the Stones were promoting their respective visits to Cuba, US finance experts were publishing articles such as “Four ways to invest in Cuba right now”, “Five things you should know about buying properties in Cuba”, “25 things every investor should know before settling in Cuba”, “Seven ways to invest in Cuba”…

It’s the sort of articles Mick Jagger might read over breakfast. In 1971, the Rolling Stones marked two milestones in rock history. The first was recording the double album “Exile on Main Street” in their new home in the south of France. The second was to divert their investments to elude the British exchequer. The business that made fiscal pioneers out of them was a Dutch company, Promogroup. Dutch because it was on the isle of Curaçao, which became an independent territory in 2010. Dutch like the university in which Gregory Elias studied. Dutch, while we’re at it, like the trail that helped the Tax Agency to find the 4.6 million euros which Oleguer Pujol, son of Jordi Pujol, the former president of the Generalitat, had hidden in Curaçao.

The Rolling Stones’ lyrics have been the subject of endless study in many schools, but their numbers also should be. Havana was the final stop on their Latin American tour, but the previous dates have also had their complications. There’s been talk for months of how difficult it was for the group to perform in La Plata because of the weakness of the Argentine peso. Promoter Daniel Grinbank’s response was pure rock ‘n’ roll: “We have to do some special financial engineering.” And they did.

In October 2015, Mick Jagger travelled to Cuba and in four months, the deal was sealed. At first the concert was set for Sunday, March 20, but when it became known that Barack Obama was coming to visit the island that day, the concert was postponed five days. To give it enough hype, it was announced as “the first open-air concert by a British band” on Cuban soil. That way, no one could argue against that with the Manic Street Preachers, who performed in Cuba in 2001, but in the Karl Marx Theatre. Or Audioslave, who performed in 2005 before 70,000 people in the anti-imperialist José Martí stadium. Or Major Lazer, who brought in 450,000 people on March 6, because Diplo isn’t a rock band.

The world doesn’t need any more Stones records, but their contract, with all its clauses and shares deriving from their “show” in Cuba, should fall into the hands of some university; private, “of course”. A minute analysis of the document should serve for a juicy and intense master’s thesis of two or three years: “Financial engineering, philanthrocapitalism and rock ‘n’ roll in its senior years”. And as an extra, a showing of the “historic show” of the Stones in Havana (“historic” is the most repeated adjective in the headlines), with special attention to the song selected by popular vote to bolster the set list: nothing less than “All Down the Line”, from the exiled “Exile on Main Street”.

The secret concert by the Stones nine years ago in the MNAC in Barcelona was the cherry on top of a programme of new financial products which the Deutsche Bank organized, and in which “executives of Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan, Santander Gestión, BBVA, La Caixa and analysts from Singapore and Hong Kong” participated, according to El Economista. Now that Sir Mick Jagger’s band has become something more than a money-making machine (it’s a cultural hook around which money gets made), let’s learn about the hands that have joined, the meetings that have taken place, the treaties signed, and the percentages agreed upon while Jagger, Richards, Watts and Wood played “Gimme Shelter” in Havana.

And all thanks to the Fundashon Bon Intenshon and United Trust.

Translation mine.

So there you go. The Stones may not have taken any money for their Havana concert, but they didn’t go out of pocket to play Cuba as the not-really-first British band on the island, either. They had financial help, and lots of it, from a “charitable” foundation set up by highly influential financial interests in Curaçao. So influential, in fact, that they dictated the financial laws straight to the local government. Maybe it wasn’t the same band of thieves that helped Mick & Co. escape the British Exchequer; maybe it’s only their kissing cousins. But it says a lot about the Stones’ long-standing and very close ties to the financial underworld, does it not?

And on that note, I think a song is in order. You’ll note that it’s NOT one of theirs, because I’m not a fan and never have been. I much prefer their main rivals from back in the day:

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Posted in Cuba, Libre (de los Yanquis), Economics for Dummies, EuroPeons, Filthy Stinking Rich, Good to Know, Isn't It Ironic?, Law-Law Land, Merry Old England, Socialism is Good for Capitalism!, The Nausea | Comments Off

Haitian activist murdered in Venezuela

Posted on March 28, 2016 by Sabina Becker

fritz-saint-louis

Fritz Saint Louis was a bright hope for his people in a bad time. And like so many bright hopes in Latin America and the Caribbean, he met with a violent and premature end:

On Saturday night, masked men entered the home of Haitian-Venezuelan activist Fritz Saint Louis and shot him dead.

The activist, who lived in the Vía Santa Lucía in Valles del Tuy, was there with his family at the time several hooded individuals entered with a shotgun and fired on him.

Saint Louis was a political activist dedicated to the struggle for the rights of Haitians in Venezuela as well as his native land, and a founding member of the Committee for Solidarity with Haiti, as well as international co-ordinator of the Casa Cultural Haitiana Bolivariana de Venezuela. He was an authentic revolutionary, a great fighter for human rights, and a great defender of the Bolivarian cause.

He was a student of Haitian history and the Haitian diaspora in the world, and the historical causes and politics of social reality of the Haitian people.

Fritz Saint Louis was an assiduous collaborator with Aporrea and a great friend of this house.

Ever onward to victory, Fritz.

We demand Justice.

Translation mine.

Fritz Saint Louis’s murder recalls that of Robert Serra, the young parliamentarian who was killed in his home too by an armed band of Colombian mercenaries. Serra was well on his way to popular leadership in the PSUV, and probably would have become president one day if he had been able to continue. Putschists stopped him in his tracks.

That seems to be the overall plan for political assassinations in Latin America and the Caribbean anyway; has been for decades. For as long as the CIA has been active in the region, they’ve been in the business of killing hope (to borrow the title of William Blum’s book on the subject). About the only one they’ve so far been unable to touch is Fidel Castro, and for that they can thank their own government and its embargo, as well as their own comical incompetence, and of course old Fidel’s sheer wiliness and the loyalty of his own people (which they’ve often underestimated, much to their detriment). It seems natural that they would therefore turn their sights toward lower-hanging fruit: Robert Serra, Fritz Saint Louis…and quite possibly Chavecito, too, whose mysterious, aggressive cancer killed him three years ago.

But since it’s infinitely easier to send gunmen to dispatch lower-level leaders, ones who can’t afford squadrons of bodyguards like Chavecito had, it’s also easier to stage outright terror-murders in their cases, instead of making it look like natural causes (as they failed to do with Fidel, but apparently succeeded in doing with Chavecito). The purpose of murders like Robert Serra’s and Fritz Saint Louis’s is straightforward and simple: to scare others away from even TRYING to emulate them. The subtext, unspoken but plain as day, reads: If you try to do what they did, this is what lies in store for you.

What the right-wing oligarchs who contracted these killers forget, however, is the words of Túpac Katari: “Tomorrow I will return, and I will be millions.” Because it’s Latin America, where the martyrdom of one today is the movement of millions tomorrow. To avenge, yes…but also to bring long-overdue changes and freedom for the people. You can kill one or two, sure, but you can’t hope to win against an army of millions.

May the assassins fail in their purpose. May they be captured and unmasked soon. May their paymasters also be found and brought to justice. May Robert, Fritz and all the others be vindicated.

Hasta la victoria siempre.

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Posted in Cuba, Libre (de los Yanquis), Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Huguito Chavecito, I Left My Hat in Haiti, Isn't That Illegal?, The United States of Amnesia | 1 Comment

Music for a Sunday: One for Der Drumpf

Posted on March 27, 2016 by Sabina Becker

“With your cemetery teeth and your California tan
I’m here to tell you that you ain’t no Superman —
You’re just a wide boy!”

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Compare and Contrast: Der Drumpf vs. The Berd

Posted on March 26, 2016 by Sabina Becker

drumpf-bernie-birds

Feel the Berd.

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Posted in Compare and Contrast, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off

Wankers of the Week: Bad Friday

Posted on March 25, 2016 by Sabina Becker

Crappy weekend, everyone! And a very crappy Easter weekend to all who observe it. Know what else I’m observing? Yes, that’s right: Wankers in the wild! And here they are, in no particular order:

1. Marine Fucking Le Pen. All right, who invited this Nazi vache? And who asked her to comment on our immigration policy or our peaceful multicultural society? Nobody? Thought so. But hey, maybe she does have a point, after all. Multicultural societies are in conflict whenever there are fascists in ‘em. Therefore, I propose a new policy: Nazis RAUS!

2. Scott Fucking Willingham. Speaking of Nazis, how about this one? Yup, that thar Bundy idiocy out west is just the shit that keeps on stinking.

3. Sid Fucking Miller. I don’t know what the hell a “Jesus shot” is, but somehow I doubt that you can fit all of him into one little needle. And I also doubt he’d cure what’s really wrong with this right-wing shitferbrains.

4. Lauren Fucking Houston. I don’t know what’s worse: a realtor being racist, or her writing like an idiotic 13-year-old on her Instagram. Apparently, her employer took a dim view of both.

5. Donald Fucking Drumpf. Why yes, he IS racist. How’d you know? PS: Your “authorization” means NOTHING, Donnie. Sit down. PPS: And keep it classy, y’hear?

6. Corey Fucking Lewandowski. Meanwhile, Der Drumpf’s goon in chief is seeing to it that no free speech ever gets uttered at ANY Drumpf rally. And that no female reporter goes unpropositioned, either. Good job, asshole!

7. Andy Fucking Puzder. No, Putz, a higher minimum wage doesn’t kill jobs. Greedy CEOs looking to milk every cent while keeping employees below the poverty line do a good enough job of that themselves…when they’re not threatening to replace workers with robots, for fucksakes. PS: And fuck right off with your sexist commercials, too.

8. Kristen Fucking Cavallari. What the fuck is she famous for, again? Oh yeah…being “just a mom” who’s also a moron about vaccinations and baby formula. That’s what.

9. John Fucking La Tour. Any excuse to wave your dick at women, eh? Including transphobia, which in this case was completely irrelevant anyway. Oh, and get this: The fucking Duggars love him. Figures!

10. Matthew P. Fucking Doyle. I’d like to confront him about his apparent need to accost Muslims on the street and demand an explanation from them for terror attacks, but somehow I have the feeling I won’t even get so much as a mealy-mouthed reply. Maybe because he’s already deleted THAT tweet. PS: A real feminist doesn’t go around “confronting” random women about things that have nothing to do with them. Or read the UK Sun, either. PPS: And there you go. He really is a fascist. Thought so!

11. Novak Fucking Djokovich. Surely you djest, sir. But on the off chance that you’re serious, maybe you’d like Serena Williams to do to you what Billie Jean King did to Bobby Riggs, back in the day. I’m sure her hormones are up to the task.

12. The Fucking Benham Brothers. Yes, they’re still homophobic. And they’re totally not in the closet, either!

13. Cory Fucking Bernardi. Someone clearly hasn’t got any idea what’s really in the Safe Schools program…and it’s not the mother he berated.

14. Robert Fucking Bentley. “I did not have sex with that woman, Ms. So-and-So” still doesn’t ring true when you totally did, gubnor.

15. Sage Fucking Dixon. If you have a “little Supreme Court” inside your head, you don’t belong in the legislature; you belong in the booby hatch. And if you don’t understand what your own state constitution says, you also need remedial reading comprehension classes.

16. Ted Fucking Cruz. Newsflash: The safety of your country, and indeed all of Europe, does not in fact depend on the whereabouts of your president. Also, you’re just jealous because YOU don’t get to go to Cuba and bore them with your bullshit. And good luck getting any Muslims at all to vote for you, too!

17. Jim Fucking Bakker. Riddle me this, Jimmeh: How the hell can Bernie Sanders be “our Hitler” when in fact he’s pretty much everything the real Hitler hated — namely, a leftist, secular Jew? And more importantly: Why the hell are you not dead yet???

18. Rudy Fucking Giuliani. And again, same as for #16: No, the Brussels bombings had NOTHING to do with where Barack Obama was at the time. Christ — the way these dim Repugs talk, you’d think it was his job to police all of Europe singlehandedly!

19. Newt Fucking Gingrich. Really, Newty? Der Drumpf’s “candidacy” remains as invalid as ever. Brussels changes nothing. It’s not even in the US, remember? Christ, Repugs, go take a geography class!

20. Sarah Fucking Palin. She never even set foot inside a law school, but she wants to be “the next Judge Judy”? The REAL Judge Judy is facepalming even as I write.

21. Wayne La Fucking Pierre. If you have so many guns, why aren’t you smart? Sorry, The Peter, but you just walked right into that one. Just like you walked into that unaccredited “university”. Ha, ha.

22. John Fucking Deighan. Condoms are “very ineffective”? Well, I guess that explains his entire existence, then. Nice to see that Scotland has just as stupid a Religious Reich as the US of Amnesia.

23. M.H. Fucking Wiebe. Y’know, in my grandma’s day, they used to say that every child cost you a tooth; nowadays, it’s a whole brain lobe’s worth of neurons. Srsly, between her and #8, “just a mom concerned about X” is becoming a very toxic phrase. When did becoming a mother start to mean that your IQ had to drop through a hole in the sub-basement floor?

24. Mike Fucking Pence. Nice of him to make sure that fetuses with severe, life-threatening abnormalities don’t get aborted, even if doing so would save the mother’s life. I guess he’s just paying his own mother’s misery forward, eh?

25. Jeremy Fucking Irons. And speaking of men who have no business to be speaking about abortion, how about him? I think “fartbag” is entirely too nice a thing to call him, BTW. Not only because it’s an insult to ACTUAL fartbags, but because the proper thing to call him is “Daddy should have shot it in the sink that night”.

26. Bibi Fucking Netanyahu. Meanwhile, in the Middle East, another all-too-lucky sperm is making even all-too-lucky sperms look bad. Shuddup, Bibi!

27. Shawna Fucking Cox. And speaking of people who need to stop speaking altogether, how about her? Apparently, trashing the Malheur bird sanctuary and digging shit-pits straight through an indigenous archeological site is now “cleaning up and fixing things”. Words: What DO they mean?

28. Andrew Fucking Anglin. Wow, antisemitism and misogyny! Two terrible tastes that taste even shittier together! And such an original combination, too!

29. Katrina Fucking Pierson. Yup, still babbling. And hasn’t yet worn that fetus necklace she promised us. Ante up and then STFU, already.

30. Glenn Fucking Beck. Have I listed Biff yet this week? No? Well, now I have. Enjoy!

And finally, to the fucking judge in the fucking Ghomeshi case. Yes, William Fucking Horkins, this means YOU! Come on down! You’re the next contestant on What the Fuck Were You Thinking?! Because that’s the million-dollar question on everyone’s lips after this predictably awful case went down like a burning blimp. You had every opportunity to restrain Marie Fucking Henein from whacking those complainants, and you didn’t, even though what she was doing there was highly unethical (not to mention ILLEGAL) and wouldn’t be allowed in any other kind of criminal case. You could have demanded that the defendant, you know, ACTUALLY FUCKING DEFEND HIMSELF and take the damn stand on his own behalf, so we could hear HIS version of the story (which I’m sure would have been a lulu, given that famous Facebook entry). You could have given the Crown fair opportunity to cross-examine him, and call expert witnesses to explain why the inconsistencies in the complainants’ stories weren’t willful lies, but likely just more evidence of trauma poorly remembered after so many years of trying to repress it. You didn’t do that, either. In fact, all you DID do was confirm why so many women have lost trust in the justice system. I’ve already said as much as I care to on that subject. All that’s really left for me, now, is to note how disgustingly in character this was, not just for you, but for our sexist criminal justice system on the whole. Given its highly adversarial nature, I can’t honestly say I’m surprised that when a defendant is presumed innocent until proven otherwise, the reverse must therefore hold true for his accusers. But hey! I’m sure you’ll get plenty of opportunities to issue a judiciously worded mea culpa when the worst happens. Just remember, Yeronner: You let that happen. That shame is on YOU.

Good night, and get fucked!

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A few random thoughts on the Ghomeshi fiasco

Posted on March 24, 2016 by Sabina Becker

cosby-ghomeshi-highfive

So. This happened.

It’s not that I wasn’t expecting it to happen. Given the overall ineptitude of the Crown’s prosecution, and the ugly predilections of the judge as revealed in a previous (and very similar) case, it was pretty easy to predict.

And, given the overall tendencies of a male-dominated society and its rape culture, it was inevitable. It would have taken a miracle to make it otherwise. Pink pegacorns with purple manes and tails would have to have descended from the heavens, farting rainbow marshmallows all the way, before this verdict would have gone the way it should in a just world.

We don’t live in a just world, which is presumably why we have a justice system in the first place. And, thanks to our justice system, we’re still as far away from a just world as we would have been if we’d never had a system to begin with — at least, if by “we”, one means women who’ve been sexually assaulted.

Of course, if you’re a man who’s been accused, it doesn’t matter how far from true justice the world is — you’re golden whether your victim has gone to the cops about you, or not. And if you’re a man of some fame, with gobs of money, as Jian Ghomeshi is, you can buy your own version of “justice” (note the quotes, there for a reason). It doesn’t even matter if the court of public opinion turned against you fast and hard, as it did with him; you can still point to this verdict and say to every woman you’ve ever wronged, and known you wronged: “Yeah? Well, FUCK YOU.”

And oh yeah: you can go to your old employer, in this case the CBC, and sue for wrongful-dismissal damages, if not outright reinstatement. Never mind that you stupidly showed them a video of a woman’s bruised side and cracked rib in order to prove it was somehow “consensual”, which is what got Ghomeshi shit-canned in the first place. She wasn’t among these complainants; that video wasn’t entered into evidence here; too bad for her! Since Jian Ghomeshi was, before this, the star in CBC Radio’s firmament, they’ve been hurting for listeners (and those sweet, sweet syndication profits that Q brought in). It’s not at all certain that they won’t take him back — or pay up. After all, it’s only us taxpayers who’ll be stuck with the bill…

If there is any hope here, it lies with the women. They have shown that even with a deck blatantly stacked against them, they will not take their rough shuffle without a fight. They have already changed the way our society talks about sexual assault, even if the way we prosecute it hasn’t caught up yet. And we have a LOT of catching up to do. We’re learning things about traumatic amnesia, how it tends to wipe memories at the critical moment, and that’s often why victims don’t act the way the system expects them to. We’re learning why it should be mandatory for the Crown to call expert witnesses when that’s the case, no matter how much time it takes or what it costs. We’re learning that no accused, no matter how rich and well-connected, should have the right to a discriminatory legal defence. We’re learning that just because a woman fights back, or even flirts back after the fact, she’s still not any less a victim of an assault; we have Lucy DeCoutere and her co-complainants to thank for that. We are learning to believe them even when the judges insist that they’re not plausible enough by rape culture’s absurdly narrow and exacting standards of proper victim conduct. They have encouraged others to come forward against their abusers, even when the odds of winning a conviction are shit. That much is worth something.

It’s also worth something to know that now Jian Ghomeshi’s “good” name is not all that, and never will be again. “Not guilty” is not exactly innocent, either. His reputation as a shitty date is going to follow him everywhere, and his put-on charisma won’t ever erase the creepy image of Big Ears Teddy from the public mind. Any woman who dates him now has an excellent idea of what she’s really getting. Prospective future employers will also want to think twice before they put him on their payroll, seeing as he’s earned a reputation as being a sexual harasser on the job. A quick google is all it will take anyone to know that this one’s not worth whatever they may have in mind for him. He can hire all the image consultants he wants, but his name is mud, and that’s on him. That, too, is worth something.

It’s also worth something to know that this is not the only trial he’ll be facing. There are other, unrelated charges still to come. He could also face civil suits. It will all keep his name out there, unrehabilitated, for the awful, unjust world to see a while longer. It’s a small something, but what the hell.

It ought to humble every one of our learned judges to know that the court of public opinion is able to render a more solid verdict than they are. It probably won’t, because they can still insist on the letter of the law, like Inspector Javert. They can still claim to be serving justice, but until they learn to serve that dish piping hot and with all the trimmings, they won’t have to wonder anymore why so few women are stepping up to the plate. There are so many women who don’t expect justice from the system because they — WE — know full well it was built by men, for the benefit of men.

And until that changes, this is what you’ll be hearing out of those of us who know we’ve been assaulted, and who still don’t dare go to the law for redress:

It’s not justice. It’s not much. But it will have to do.

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Posted in Bullies, Canadian Counterpunch, Human Rights FAIL, If You REALLY Care, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, Law-Law Land, Men Who Just Don't Get It, Uppity Wimmin | Comments Off

When Pánfilo met Obama

Posted on March 24, 2016 by Sabina Becker

One of Cuba’s leading funnymen had a visit from another funny man recently. Here’s what happened, according to Habana Linda:

Cuban humorist Luis Silva, better known as Pánfilo, had a telephone conversation on March 18 with Barack Obama. Today, by way of his Facebook page, he published a new video which he recorded with the president of the United States during his visit to Cuba.

Translation mine. Link as in original.

And somehow, I don’t think he was too concerned about everyone sitting there gawping and forgetting to show him their ration cards.

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