poetry


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The poem asks who is the foe? The answer is as clear as day.

The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles. Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journey-man, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another…

Karl Marx in the opening lines of the Communist Manifesto, hits the nail on the head. These are not economic classes however, they are legal classes. They are essentially the difference between those who live off of the production of labour and the producers, who are expropriated by government, Kings, Lords, etc.

The French Revolution was not about creating a Republic, it was about allowing the so called Third Estate a chance to enter the bureaucracy, and thus be able to exploit and expropriate the remaining producers. It was about gaining access to power that had been previously only available to Royalty and Nobles.

Today, nothing has changed. We have government bureaucracy, the parasite that grows ever larger through ever increasing expenditures, by which they expand their baleful influence over ever increasing areas of life. Government produce nothing. They are tax consumers. Any government official is simply a thief, living off the back of my, and others production.

Banks are an almost irresistible attraction for that element of our society which seeks unearned money.

No amount of law enforcement can solve a problem that goes back to the family.

The individual is handicapped by coming face to face with a conspiracy so monstrous he cannot believe it exists.

Justice is incidental to law and order. – all from J. Edgar Hoover

Banks. Hand-in-hand with government. Government uses the banking system, as does a pure bank-robber, to steal your production. Justice and the Law. The two shall never meet. The FBI, an instrument of government coercion, as are police, military, etc.

The foe, is government.

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My wife and I attended the Il Divo concert held in Auckland last night. It was excellent, we thoroughly enjoyed it.

il_divo

Sébastien:
J’ai compris tous les mots, j’ai bien compris, merci
Raisonnable et nouveau, c’est ainsi par ici

David:
Que les choses ont changé, que les fleurs ont fané
Que le temps d’avant, c’était le temps d’avant

Urs:
Que si tout zappe et lasse, les amours aussi passent
Il faut que tu saches

Carlos:
J’irai chercher ton coeur si tu l’emportes ailleurs
Même si dans tes danses d’autres dansent tes heures

Sébastien:
J’irai chercher ton âme dans les froids dans les flammes
Je te jetterai des sorts pour que tu m’aimes encore

David:
Pour que tu m’aimes encore

Urs:
Fallait pas commencer m’attirer me toucher
Fallait pas tant donner moi je sais pas jouer

Sébastien:
On me dit qu’aujourd’hui, on me dit que les autres font ainsi
Je ne suis pas les autres

Carlos:
Avant que l’on s’attache, avant que l’on se gâche
Je veux que tu saches

Urs:
J’irai chercher ton coeur si tu l’emportes ailleurs
Même si dans tes danses d’autres dansent tes heures
J’irai chercher ton ame dans les froids dans les flammes
Je te jetterai des sorts pour que tu m’aimes encore

Sébastien:
Je trouverai des langages pour chanter tes louanges
Je ferai nos bagages pour d’infinies vendanges

David:
Les formules magiques des marabouts d’Afrique
J’les dirai sans remords pour que tu m’aimes encore

Carlos:
Je m’inventerai roi pour que tu me retiennes
Je me ferai nouvelle pour que le feu reprenne
Je deviendrai ces autres qui te donnent du plaisir
Vos jeux seront les nôtres si tel est ton désir
Plus brillante plus belle pour une autre étincelle
Je me changerai en or pour que tu m’aimes encore, que tu m’aimes encore

Pour que tu m’aimes encore

Some people might say my life is in a rut,
But Im quite happy with what I got
People might say that I should strive for more,
But Im so happy I cant see the point.
Somethings happening here today
A show of strength with your boys brigade and,
Im so happy and youre so kind
You want more money – of course I dont mind
To buy nuclear textbooks for atomic crimes

And the public gets what the public wants
But I want nothing this societys got –
Im going underground, (going underground)
Well the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground, (going underground)
Well let the boys all sing and the boys all shout for tomorrow

Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, Ive enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
[me? ] Im too busy dodging between the flak

What you see is what you get
Youve made your bed, you better lie in it
You choose your leaders and place your trust
As their lies wash you down and their promises rust
Youll see kidney machines replaced by rockets and guns

And the public wants what the public gets
But I dont get what this society wants
Im going underground, (going underground)
Well the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground, (going underground)
[so] let the boys all sing and the boys all shout for tomorrow

We talk and talk until my head explodes
I turn on the news and my body froze
The braying sheep on my tv screen
Make this boy shout, make this boy scream!

Going underground, Im going underground!

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
Ill never look into your eyes…again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need…of some…strangers hand
In a…desperate land

Lost in a roman…wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah

Theres danger on the edge of town
Ride the kings highway, baby
Weird scenes inside the gold mine
Ride the highway west, baby

Ride the snake, ride the snake
To the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The snake is long, seven miles
Ride the snake…hes old, and his skin is cold

The west is the best
The west is the best
Get here, and well do the rest

The blue bus is callin us
The blue bus is callin us
Driver, where you taken us

The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and…then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door…and he looked inside
Father, yes son, I want to kill you
Mother…i want to…fuck you

Cmon baby, take a chance with us
Cmon baby, take a chance with us
Cmon baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus
Doin a blue rock
On a blue bus
Doin a blue rock
Cmon, yeah

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

It hurts to set you free
But youll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die

This is the end

Sup up your beer and collect your fags,
Theres a row going on down near slough,
Get out your mat and pray to the west,
Ill get out mine and pray for myself.
Thought you were smart when you took them on,
But you didnt take a peep in their artillery room,
All that rugby puts hairs on your chest,
What chance have you got against a tie and a crest.

Hello-hurrah – what a nice day – for the eton rifles,
Hello-hurrah – I hope rain stops play – with the eton rifles.

Thought you were clever when you lit the fuse,
Tore down the house of commons in your brand new shoes,
Compose a revolutionary symphony,
Then went to bed with a charming young thing.

Hello-hurrah – cheers then mate – its the eton rifles,
Hello-hurrah – an extremist scrape – with the eton rifles.

What a catalyst you turned out to be,
Loaded the guns then you run off home for your tea,
Left me standing – like a guilty (naughty) schoolboy.

We came out of it naturally the worst,
Beaten and bloody and I was sick down my shirt,
We were no match for their untamed wit,
Though some of the lads said theyll be back next week.

Hello-hurrah – theres a price to pay – to the eton rifles,
Hello-hurrah – Id prefer the plague – to the eton rifles.

Hello-hurrah – theres a price to pay – to the eton rifles,
Hello-hurrah – Id prefer the plague – to the eton rifles.

The last recession was the one I lived and left school in the midst of. It was pretty grim, but I have good memories. Looks like the turn of the next generation to get their feet wet. This was the mood.

“The Clash, This is England”

I hear a gang fire on a human factory farm
Are they howling out or doing somebody harm
On a catwalk jungle somebody grabbed my arm
A voice spoke so cold it matched the weapon in her palm

This is England
This knife of Sheffield steel
This is England
This is how we feel

Time on his hands freezing in those clothes
He won’t go for the carrot
They beat him by the pole
Some sunny day confronted by his soul
He’s out at sea, too far off, he can’t go home

This is England
What we’re supposed to die for
This is England
And we’re never gonna cry no more

Black shadow of the Vincent
Falls on a Triumph line
I got my motorcycle jacket
But I’m walking all the time
South Atlantic wind blows
Ice from a dying creed
I see no glory
When will we be free

This is England
We can chain you to the rail
This is England
We can kill you in a jail

Those British boots go kick Bengali in the head
Police sit watchin’
The newspapers been read
Who cares to protest
A (???) in the eye like a flare
Out came the batons and
The British warned themselves

This is England
The land of the legal dossier
This is England
Land of a thousand stances
This is England
This knife of Sheffield steel
This is England
This is how we feel
This is England
This is England

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