I went to a school where we kept rifles in our rooms. Nobody ever died. West Point.
Parkland was the Dallas hospital where John F. Kennedy died. Trauma Room 1.
Political blood money murders our children. N.R.A.
Is the United States Congress a terrorist organization? If not, why not?
RECEP DECEIT ERDOĞAN
RECEP DECEIT ERDOĞAN 15 March 2014
In your repetition, in your ranting, you bore me immensely and to tears.
Yet in your supernatural excess, you never fail to astonish.
Now a hunted man, who curses stars for giving light to darkness,
you cannot control your rotting tongue.
There must surely be some divine disgust coming.
You should be pitied, such an inhuman piece of wreckage.
But in your deceit you transcend pity.
The condition of your end surpasses words, except perhaps one--
Nine months ago you murdered a fifteen year-old boy.
It took Berkin Elvan nine months to be born.
And nine months to die by your hand.
Nine months in a coma, tubed and hosed, draining away in a hospital.
A hospital where, the day he died, you gassed and beat his mourners.
And that night, you gassed and beat his mourners all over the nation.
And that night I wrote about rage and outrage.
“HEY YOU!” I shouted... “HEY ERDOĞAN!”
That night I asked you, “Tomorrow, will you attack the boy’s corpse?”
I felt so strange asking that question. Who would do such blasphemy?
But true to your deceitful form, you would.
And without qualms, so cool, so cold, so devastating your style.
Every religion, one way or another says, never speak ill of the dead.
But you…unspeakable you…What in hell is your religion?
And the next day you continued to defile the boy’s corpse.
You went to Siirt.
Your wife’s hometown.
And how courageous you were imitating the home-grown liar and thief Jet Fadil whose parliamentary seat you occupy in historically perfect irony.
Imposter! Charlatan! Infidel!
The boy was a “terrorist," you yelled to your mob of bootlickers in the plaza at Siirt.
Clap-clap-clap went your mob.
"He was carrying a slingshot, steel marbles and wearing a scarf," you lied.
Clap-clap-clap went your mob.
Yes,true to your form, you lied.
The picture was photoshopped by one of your corrupt cops.
Everyone knows this.
Everyone except your Allah-dazzled mobs.
Clap-clappity-clap went your bedazzled bootlickers.
Then you insulted the boy’s mother.
“I couldn’t understand why you threw steel marbles and carnations into your son’s grave,” you yelled.
"Booooooooo!" yelled your mob in avid, oblivious agreement. Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Who? What? When? Where? Why? …..
I mean words fail…a head of state talking such abominable trash, such profanity…
Booing a dead child’s mother?
Your mob, your perverted followers.
Your mobs in plazas where no light ever shines. YOUR “people.”
What idiot advises you to say and do such things?
The guy with the pig-greased hair?
That peddler of slime and subterfuge?
The one who is ready to die for you?
Lead by example!
Do the right thing!
Or do you advise yourself?
Or was it Egemen Bağış, your thieving ex-minister?
The pervert who called Berkin’s mourners “necrophiles.”
Or was it Mehmet Ali Şahin, Turkey’s greatest verbal defecator.
In Ergenekon, as he had so vividly explained,
“Turkey is defecating. Turkey will continue cleansing its intestines.”
About Berkin, he was even less sensitive.
"If Berkin had died after the election," he blathered, "the funeral crowd would not have been so large."
And for all this, and for so much more, you will all soon go forever.
The door is knocking.
Can you hear it?
Your advisors won’t tell.
Only the knock tells.
The knock that appalls.
A knock, and you disappear.
Somewhere, beyond the sun, beyond the touch of humanity,
Beyond the light. Beyond thought.
And all that remains, all those “things” of yours,
will be razed, destroyed, plowed over.
And the land will be calm.
And your hands?
Your bloody, thieving, deceiving, murderous hands?
They too will be food for worms.
Listen well, for it has already been written:
Your worm is your only emperor for diet.
We fat all creatures else to fat us, and
we fat ourselves for maggots.
James (Cem) Ryan
First Published: 15 March 2014
Do not think yourself better
because you burn up friends and enemies
with long-range missiles without ever seeing what you have done
CHANT TO BE USED IN PROCESSIONS AROUND A SITE WITH FURNACES
by Thomas Merton, 1961
How we made them sleep and purified them
How we perfectly cleaned up the people and worked a big heater
I was the commander I made improvements and installed a guaranteed system taking account of human weakness I purified and I remained decent
How I commanded I made cleaning appointments and then I made the travellers sleep and after that I made soap
I was born into a Catholic family but as these people were not going to need a priest I did not become a priest I installed a perfectly good machine it gave satisfaction to many
When trains arrived the soiled passengers received appointments for fun in the bathroom they did not guess
It was a very big bathroom for two thousand people it awaited arrival and they arrived safely
There would be an orchestra of merry widows not all the time much art
If they arrived at all they would be given a greeting card to send home taken care of with good jobs wishing you would come to our joke
Another improvement I made was I built the chambers for two thousand invitations at a time the naked votaries were disinfected with Zyklon B
Children of tender age were always invited by reason of their youth they were unable to work they were marked out for play
They were washed like the others and more than the others
Very frequently women would hide their children in the piles of clothing but of course when we came to find them we would send the children into the chamber to be bathed
How I often commanded and made improvements and sealed the door on top there were flowers the men came with crystals
I guaranteed always the crystal parlour
I guaranteed the chamber and it was sealed you could see through portholes
They waited for the shower it was not hot water that came through vents though efficient winds gave full satisfaction portholes showed this
The satisfied all ran together to the doors awaiting arrival it was guaranteed they made ends meet
How I could tell by their cries that love came to a full stop I found the ones I had made clean after about a half hour Jewish male inmates then worked up nice they had rubber boots in return for adequate food I could not guess their appetite
Those at the door were taken apart out of a fully stopped love for rubber male inmates strategic hair and teeth being used later for defence
Then the males removed all clean love rings and made away with happy gold
A big new firm promoted steel forks operating on a cylinder they got the contract and with faultless workmanship delivered very fast goods
How I commanded and made soap 12 pounds fat 10 quarts water 8 ounces to a pound of caustic soda but it was hard to find any fat
"For transporting the customers we suggest using light carts on wheels a drawing is submitted"
"We acknowledge four steady furnaces and an emergency guarantee"
“I am a big new commander operating on a cylinder I elevate the purified materials boil for 2 to 3 hours and then cool"
For putting them into a test fragrance I suggested an express elevator operated by the latest cylinder it was guaranteed
Their love was fully stopped by our perfected ovens but the love rings were salvaged
Thanks to the satisfaction of male inmates operating the heaters without need of compensation our guests were warmed
All the while I had obeyed perfectly
So I was hanged in a commanding position with a full view of the site plant and grounds
You smile at my career but you would do as I did if you knew yourself and dared
In my days we worked hard we saw what we did our self sacrifice was conscientious and complete our work was faultless and detailed
Do not think yourself better because you burn up friends and enemies with long-range missiles without ever seeing what you have done
Thomas Merton, 1961
JULY 16, 1945
ALAMAGORDO, NEW MEXICO
Hey Hey Hey Goodbye!
To Extremely Patriotic NFL Football Fans:
The American flag “symbolizes” the nation, nothing more, nothing less. The nation exists as a “real” democratic republic, not because of its symbolic cloth flag but because of its written Constitution. Among many other things, this Constitution guarantees:
If this is true…
Who are you to restrict, in any manner, those “rights” by claiming that, in your collective opinion, kneeling NFL football players somehow disrespect the flag and by extension the United States military? The kneeling athletes have a grievance against the government, not the Constitution, not the military, not the nation and certainly not you, the fans that partially pay their salaries. They grieve for their fellow citizens who are denied the full and rightful measure of constitutional protections. In short, their right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Your espousing a massive boycott because of imagined slights against the military is unseemly, divisive and defamatory to the protestors and the Constitution itself. If you don’t like kneeling then counter-protest the kneelers by standing on your seats or on your heads.
Despite the Pentagon’s saber-rattling use of ear-impairing fighter jet flyovers, midfield-targeted parachute assaults and field-length flag-unfurlings, football remains a mere game, a lucrative business, yes, but at heart a game. And definitely not a war game. And definitely not some fascist exercise in public patriotism. So far, no loyalty oaths are needed to buy tickets. For some, it seems a pity that superior athletic skill can also accompany well-developed social consciences.
During the heydays of the US-induced South American juntas, the football (soccer) stadiums were used as venues for the mass slaughter of dissenters. Remember this. Then remember our constitutional guarantees. And then applaud those who are demanding that ALL citizens be treated equally under the law.
If you want a real cause, campaign against the president of the United States. So far employed in a non-uniformed civilian job, he must stop saluting every uniformed person that twitches and every flag that flutters. It’s an egregious violation of flag etiquette and presumptuous to those who have earned the right to wear a military uniform and the privilege to salute.
James C. Ryan
October 26, 2017
April 6, 2017
SENATOR CHARLES E. SCHUMER
Senator of New York
322 Hart Senate Office Building
Washington, D.C. 20510
Phone: (202) 224-6542
Fax: (202) 228-3027
Dear Senator Schumer:
Outrageous!!!!! With no proof of Syrian or Russian complicity you attack a sovereign nation who has never harmed the US. The last "attack" in 2013 was caused by Turkey’s Erdogan who supplied the gas to Al Nusra. Or didn't you hear this? The real culprit in all this is the morally degenerate president of Turkey. This is one of the stupidest and morally obtuse acts ever done by the United States. With not even a declaration of war you bomb another nation. The morally degenerate Trump and your morally obtuse generals deserve impeachment and arrest. War criminals all! Despicable government! Despicable Congress! And we call ourselves the human race! How many more innocent people must you kill? When will you and your fellow outlaws be satisfied?
Stoop, Americans, stoop,
And let you bathe your hands in Syrian blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear your tomahawk missiles.
Then walk you forth, even to the marketplace,
And waving your red weapons over your heads
Let’s all cry, “Peace, freedom, and liberty!”
You have brought untold pain and suffering into this world. You have despoiled the HOUSE of mankind. And for that you shall inherit the wind.
James C. Ryan
United States Military Academy
Class of 1962
What special affinities appeared to him to exist between the moon and woman?
“Her antiquity in preceding and surviving successive tellurian generations: her nocturnal predominance: her satellitic dependence: her luminary reflection: her constancy under all her phases, rising and setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning: the forced invariability of her aspect: her indeterminate response to inaffirmative interrogation: her potency over effluent and refluent waters: her power to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to incite to and aid delinquency: the tranquil inscrutability of her visage: the terribility of her isolated dominant implacable resplendent propinquity: her omens of tempest and of calm: the stimulation of her light, her motion and her presence: the admonition of her craters, her arid seas, her silence: her splendour, when visible: her attraction, when invisible.”
James Joyce, Ulysses