A young Marsh Arab. The عرب الأهوار‎ (ʻArab al-Ahwār) “Arabs of the marsh­es” live in the exten­sive delta of the Tigris and Euphrates in Iraq. Their tra­di­tion­al lifestyle, based on fish­ing, is strik­ing­ly sim­i­lar to that of the ancient Sumerians.

There is final­ly start­ing to be some report­ing in the media on an issue of supreme impor­tance: the oceans are being destroyed at a spec­tac­u­lar rate. This dis­as­ter is every bit as seri­ous as the prob­lem of cli­mate alter­ation, to which it is con­nect­ed. It is a hun­dred times more seri­ous a prob­lem than ter­ror­ism. You will notice that I have not phrased the issue in the neb­u­lous, blame-evap­o­rat­ing way that has become cus­tom­ary. I have not said that “we” are destroy­ing the oceans. We are not doing this. It is being done by spe­cif­ic peo­ple: the gang­sters of the world’s dic­ta­tor­ships, the elect­ed deci­sion-mak­ers in cor­rupt­ed and half-func­tion­ing democ­ra­cies, and a host of cor­po­rate crim­i­nals. The cor­po­rate pow­ers are not sep­a­ra­ble from gov­ern­ment. All cor­po­rate pow­er is in some way a man­i­fes­ta­tion of gov­ern­ment pow­er. The pres­i­den­tial Bush fam­i­ly, for instance, is among the oli­garchs that have accu­mu­lat­ed for­tunes through dev­as­tat­ing the seas. A small num­ber of peo­ple, who cer­tain­ly have no legit­i­mate claim to these nat­ur­al resources, grow wealthy. In the process, they are rapid­ly destroy­ing some­thing that is essen­tial for our sur­vival. Read more »

Fidel Cas­tro is final­ly dying. It’s obscene that he dies of old age, in lux­u­ry, still in pow­er, after a life­time of suc­cess­ful slave-trad­ing, mur­der, tor­ture, exploita­tion, racism, and homo­pho­bia. I expect to have to endure the effu­sions of thug-wor­ship (mixed with a lit­tle strate­gic mild crit­i­cism) that will come when he dies. They will turn my stom­ach, as they should any decent per­son, but they are cus­tom­ary when any long-lived crim­i­nal dies. But before the cir­cus parade of mythol­o­gy starts rolling, it is impor­tant that good peo­ple remem­ber, and fix in their minds, the truth­ful image that sums up Fidel. This image is espe­cial­ly impor­tant for the world’s Gays to remember.

All Marx­ist regimes have per­se­cut­ed gays, start­ing with Lenin, who sent many thou­sands to tor­ment and exe­cu­tion in the spe­cial White Sea Canal death camps. But no Marx­ist dic­ta­tor was as obsessed with abus­ing gays as Fidel Cas­tro. Even when he was first becom­ing known to jour­nal­ists, at a peri­od when homo­pho­bia was almost uni­ver­saly accept­ed, they were shocked by the para­noid fanati­cism of Castro’s hatred for gays.

Once in pow­er, Cas­tro wast­ed no time round­ing up gays, or any­one who appeared gay. Truck­loads of par­ty zealots combed the streets look­ing for any­one who looked like a fag. They were arrest­ed and sent to the infa­mous UMAP slave labour camps. The UMAP [Mil­i­tary Units to Aid Pro­duc­tion] camps were usu­al­ly sug­ar plan­ta­tions. Any­one whom Cas­tro deter­mined to be a “class ene­my” did hard labour in them. This includ­ed any­one who crit­i­cized Marx­ist ortho­doxy, was open­ly reli­gious, com­plained of Com­mu­nist greed or bru­tal­i­ty, or who belonged to some minor­i­ty. But there were spe­cial camps for gays, usu­al­ly with a harsh­er regime, and in which crude exper­i­ments with elec­troshock and brain­wash­ing were perpetrated.

The UMAP camps were described in detail by a doc­tor, José Luis Llovio-Menén­dez, who was sent to one, and was required to act as camp medic. Even the weak­est and most seri­ous­ly injured were forced to go back to the cane-fields, but he could usu­al­ly admin­is­ter some med­i­cine, and in a few hero­ic con­fronta­tions he man­aged to get lenien­cy for some of the most wretched vic­tims. Inmates at the camps worked at exhaust­ing phys­i­cal labour, usu­al­ly cut­ting sug­ar cane, from 4:30 A.M. to 7:00 P.M. Lunch was a slimy bowl of chick­peas. Latrines were fetid hells, swarm­ing with flies. Dis­ci­pline was severe in all the camps, but it was met­ed out to gays with spe­cial sadism and fury. They were rou­tine­ly beat­en in the cane fields, as they worked, were made to stand in the hot sun for eight hours, or were placed overnight, naked, in pits of filth while mos­qui­toes fed on them. Worst of all was the dread­ed “rope pun­ish­ment”, whip­pings with a coarse rope of aguave. If you know the plant, you know it is the ide­al mate­r­i­al for torture.

One image is fixed in the good doctor’s mind:

“As I was leav­ing the office by the back door, reflect­ing on the good for­tune of my trans­fer ― no more work in the fields ― I saw one of the most degrad­ing and depress­ing sights I’ve ever wit­nessed. In the cen­ter of the court­yard, tied by both hands to the top of the flag­pole, there hung a boy of about twen­ty, his body sway­ing in the breeze just below the raised flag.”

The young man was chopped down just in time to save him from los­ing his hands.

Now, I want read­ers to fix this image in their minds, and when Castro’s death is announced, to remem­ber it. This is what he should be remem­bered for. All else is unimportant.

Cana­da is at war with Pak­istan. It is symp­to­matic of the stu­pid­i­ty, con­fu­sion and cow­ardice that has brought us into this sit­u­a­tion that hard­ly any­one in Cana­da seems to know it, and few of those are will­ing to admit it. In the Alice-In-Won­der­land log­ic of this new mil­len­ni­um, we are at war with a coun­try who is our declared ally. That coun­try’s dic­ta­tor toured our coun­try to loud applause, and cracked jokes on our tele­vi­sion talk shows. Few had the courage to point out the obvi­ous: Pakistan’s dic­ta­tor, Per­vez Mushar­raf, is con­duct­ing a ter­ror­ist war on Afghanistan, a coun­try which we are com­mit­ted to defend­ing, and it is his sur­ro­gates, con­fed­er­ates, and agents who are killing Cana­di­an sol­diers. He is armed with nuclear weapons, his repres­sive regime is the polar oppo­site of every­thing Cana­da is sup­posed to stand for, and he is attack­ing us, killing our cit­i­zens — and yet our lead­ers kiss his bum every chance they get. We are bow­ing and scrap­ing before the man who is killing our sol­diers. Wash­ing­ton has so declared, and our gov­ern­ment zeal­ous­ly obeys. That is what Prime Min­is­ter Harp­er con­sid­ers to be “sup­port­ing our troops”. Read more »