"
- Mikhail Bakunin
The instinct to command others, in its primitive essence, is a carnivorous, altogether bestial and savage instinct. Under the influence of the mental development of man, it takes on a somewhat more ideal form and becomes somewhat ennobled, presenting itself as the instrument of reason and the devoted servant of that abstraction, or political fiction, which is called the public good. But in its essence it remains just as baneful, and it becomes even more so when, with the application of science, it extends its scope and intensifies the power of its action.
If there is a devil in history, it is this power principle.
"Here is something irrational about me:
Someone tells me the earth is so old and composed of so many far-gone cycles that a single human life is a blip on the radar, just a drop in the overfull bucket.
I understand the ‘big picture’ sentiment, but I get antsy about it. I can’t hold with the implication that a single human life has no intrinsic value or nothing to add by its own right, by its simply being. I’ll forgo politics this once; I want to talk to the person who proudly proclaims their disinterest in politics. I want to dig down to the reason why anyone does anything good, anything selfless, why the concept of love still exists and can be experienced in as many iterations as there are individuals who have loved.
They simply lived, yes. It was a life lived and it was, for a brief moment, itself. That is something to be cherished and yes, fought for.
The bombs drop on Baghdad, 20 March 2003.
Photos: AFP via BBC; Getty via BBC; BBC.
The US is the only nation-state to have been judged by the World Court with ‘unlawful use of force’ — which is the US Code of Federal Regulations’ definition of ‘terrorism.’ The US responded by dismissing the charges and vetoing a subsequent resolution for all nation-states to observe international law.
The phrase ‘war on terror,’ as Noam Chomsky has noted, needs to be discussed in scare quotes. It also needs to be retired from serious use. There is no such thing as a war on terror; what you’re seeing in these pictures is insidiously hiding behind that heroic title.
(via lifeisliterallylimited)
"(2007) It is likely you have seen Achmad before — he is the naked man being dragged by a leash out of a cell by a girl named England. This is the third time the lawyers have met with Achmad. The first time was in Amman, Jordan, where he told about his years in Abu Ghraib. The second time was in Istanbul, when a doctor examined him, to corroborate his scars.
…
There is a moment in Achmad’s story when words are not enough, as there will be in every story, a moment when the only way to tell us what happened is to show us what they did to his body, and at this moment he pushes back from the table and stands — They hang me this way, he says, and raises his arms out to his sides as if crucified in the air. There is something about him standing, about his body suddenly rising up, that completely unhinges me, something about it that makes his words real in a way they hadn’t been before. The word made flesh. At this moment I get it: These words are about his body, it was his body this story happened to, the body that is right here beside me, in this room I could barely even imagine just yesterday, his body that is now filling the air above our heads, our eyes upturned to see him. Achmad stands there like that, arms outstretched — the scribe has nothing to write, the painter has nothing to paint, the interpreter has nothing to interpret, the lawyer’s eyes are fixed on his eyes, all his words have led to this moment, when his body is finally allowed to speak. The lawyer shakes her head slightly. And what happened next? she says softly, and he lowers his arms and sits."
- …
There is a moment in Achmad’s story when words are not enough, as there will be in every story, a moment when the only way to tell us what happened is to show us what they did to his body, and at this moment he pushes back from the table and stands — They hang me this way, he says, and raises his arms out to his sides as if crucified in the air. There is something about him standing, about his body suddenly rising up, that completely unhinges me, something about it that makes his words real in a way they hadn’t been before. The word made flesh. At this moment I get it: These words are about his body, it was his body this story happened to, the body that is right here beside me, in this room I could barely even imagine just yesterday, his body that is now filling the air above our heads, our eyes upturned to see him. Achmad stands there like that, arms outstretched — the scribe has nothing to write, the painter has nothing to paint, the interpreter has nothing to interpret, the lawyer’s eyes are fixed on his eyes, all his words have led to this moment, when his body is finally allowed to speak. The lawyer shakes her head slightly. And what happened next? she says softly, and he lowers his arms and sits."
Nick Flynn, The Ticking is the Bomb
(I went to a reading Flynn gave a couple years back, before this book was published, and he read this passage. It has since inexorably remained on my mind. It demanded action from me, drove me to focus my ambitions on Transitional Justice and Human Rights like I’m now doing. And that, I think, is what most only dream of their writing achieving.)
olgg:
waaah! Sorry it took so long, I’m a lazy ass and I have no excuse. But here, I didn’t even made them chibi. Amadeus was awesome to draw.
Nutshell: Olgg is amazing, this picture makes my heart go all a-flutter, and everyone remotely interested in good artists may see themselves to aforementioned tumblr. (THANK YOU, OLGG)
