I must have been maybe about 13 or 14–old enough to take the Metro to Takoma Park by myself–when a guy with a big turban of dreads wrapped on his head got up in front of a group at the Takoma Park Folk Festival and asked, “What is a hippie? It comes from the word ‘hip,’ which means awareness. And what is a pie? It is a whole circle. So when you put awareness into a whole circle, you have a hippie. So wherever a totality of awareness exists, you find hippies.”
So, I’ve always had a positive image of hippies. None of the labels about them being unwashed or whatever image problem people could come up with seemed to impact the deeper notion to me–cuz aren’t we all here to gain awareness? From Socrates to Obama to the homeless guy in a wheelchair with no legs and a cup not even that full of coins?
So, just like the animals and some children (my own daughter included) could sense the massive earthquake that hit a third of the U.S. anywhere from a day to minutes before most adults had any sign it was coming or even here, I believe we can all sniff fear and freedom on the wind (though of course Bob Dylan said it better–don’t need a weatherman…) So we know what is authentically a freedom movement, and what is not, no matter how any number of paid or unpaid opinions package it.
And no matter how it is, or is not, amplified through the media or the blogosphere, the Occupy Wall St rumblings I’ve seen/intuited via the blogosphere, Twitter, and their own website/livestream are tantalizing. The uncertainty is precisely its beauty, giving it large, forgivable proportions that any one of us are free to sculpt. The zeitgeist of economic injustice is so obvious it goes without saying, even if it is being yelled continuously in various marches through the day.
And it is a place where all who mourn the injustices of a system that insists on death penalties of all sorts can perhaps find a new way. For the death penalty is not only in the state-sanctioned death chambers of our injustice system, but in our wars, in our tax-payer funded bloodbaths in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Yemen, and Libya, and in our info wars where disinformation is scattered with equal ferocity as drone attacks, in our unregulated pollution leading to illnesses that lead to death or debt, in the way we keep ripping people out of their homes and stuffing the pockets of banks ever more while letting them steal with impunity, and deny work to those willing to work because somehow it is cheaper to send jobs to other economies….yes, it is cheaper, because it’s a cheap thing to do, and people have been mad for a long, long time, but they have been long distracted by the three ring hologram of our 2 party delusion…or else long ago retreated from politics, not believing the personal is political every second of every day.
From Democracy Now, they replayed moving segments from Troy Anthony Davis’ funeral this Saturday:
Ben Jealous, head of NAACP,
“We must end the School to prison pipeline. Don’t see knuckle heads. See leaders. See prophets. See those who will get the job [of ending the death penalty] done. ”
The Right Reverend Doctor Raphael Warner,
“He transformed the prison cell into a pulpit. I don’ have to preach long today because he’s already preached a sermon. Turned death row into a sanctuary. And showed all of us what faith and hope and love look like, and from one of the darkest and murkiest places of human existence he allowed his light to shine and that light radiated from Jackson all the way to Nigeria all the way to the Netherlands all the way to London brought men and women boys and girls red yellow brown black and white to his jail cell. Convicted by a criminal justice system that is too often more criminal than just. Stigmatized by the state in a process more obsessed with finality than truth. Yet he held fast to his dignity while on death row. And so all over the world people are chanting, I am Troy Davis. And we say that because, existentially, we all live on death row. The difference between us and Troy is Troy knew it, and some of us have yet to figure it out…we all live on death row….”
So I think the Occupy Wall Streeters, some of them, may be in the process of figuring this out. The 700 who were arrested Saturday may one day in history a few decades from now look back on their arrests as badges of honor. The Occupy Together movements springing up all over the U.S., may be figuring this out. For if they are, they can’t be pinned down by a jail cell. Like I heard a protestor say, “You can’t jail an idea.”
Even if you hide it very deep in your heart and never say a word, it will emerge one day. We couldn’t sit on our supposed freedom and not demand something more authentic, after what happened in Tunisia and Egypt….because freedom is contagious. And I believe we will prove it is more contagious than fear or greed. We can smell freedom blowing in the wind….
Explication of lithographs:
Upper:
- Date Created/Published: N.Y. ; Washington : Lith. & pub. by H.R. Robinson, 1840.
- Medium: 1 print : lithograph on wove paper ; 31.2 x 42 cm. (image)
- Summary: The artist envisions public repudiation of Democratic hard-money policies, and the triumph of administration opponent Nathaniel P. Tallmadge, a conservative Democrat. Tallmadge, on horseback and armed with a lance “public opinion,” rides over a fallen Van Buren, saying, “Roll off that ball, tis the voice of the People, they tolerate no more of your hard money humbugs.” Van Buren protests, “. . . take your horse’s hoofs from off my shoulder; I’ve no room for S̀ober second thoughts’ now.” He leans against a large ball marked “Solitary and Alone,” which rolls over Missouri Senator Thomas Hart Benton and Treasury Secretary Levi Woodbury. Benton, who wields a quill “Expunger” and holds “Mint Drops,” exclaims, “Woodbury get out of my way, or the ball will overwhelm us both.” “Mint drops” was a colloquialism for gold coins, and refers to Benton’s advocacy of a higher ratio of gold to silver in circulation. (For an earlier use of the giant ball metaphor see “N. Tom O’ Logical Studies,” no. 1837-14.) Editor Francis Preston Blair (seated on a bench at right) says, “Benton out with your old pistols that you shot Jackson with, & pop down Talmadge & his horse, or he’ll reach the Capitol.” Behind him appear the faint outlines of the Capitol. At left former postmaster general Amos Kendall and former New York governor William L. Marcy sit on the ground. Kendall asks, “By the powers tis the Bronze Horse, he carries all before him. Marcy what shall we do?” Marcy complains, “Confound it I’m down, quite down, with my britches torn again.” Marcy’s trousers are mended with a “50 cents” patch. (On Marcy’s trousers’ patch see &2Executive Mercy/Marcy and the Bambers, &1no. 1838-5.) The print probably appeared during the 1840 presidential campaign, when Tallmadge used his formidable influence in New York State in support of Harrison. It is also possible that it appeared during one of his own bids for reelection in 1838 or 1840. Comparison with other 1840 prints by “HD” supports the later date.
Lower:
- Title: The ring arithmetic–as taught by the modern ceasers
- Related Names:
Kelly, Ths. (Thomas)
Robertson, Wm C. (William C.)
- Date Created/Published: N.Y. : Pub. by Ths. Kelly, 1871.
- Medium: 1 print : lithograph on wove paper ; 29.6 x 38.2 cm. (image)
- Summary: Tammany political boss William Marcy Tweed is portrayed as a bullying schoolteacher giving New York City comptroller Richard B. Connolly a lesson in arithmetic. A teary-eyed Connolly stands on a stool writing wildly inaccurate equations on a blackboard. For instance, “$147 x 2 equals $1380948”). Connolly protests to his teacher, “These figures wont suit my Father the public,” but Tweed responds, “Never mind the public Mind me I will make a rich man of you 12 years ago I was poor, now I am rich by this new arithmetic.” Behind the board are two padlocked ledgers– “City Debt 1871 125,000,000” and “City Debt 1869 30,000,000.” Exaggerated bills for the building of the county courthouse are posted on the wall. The building’s final cost was $12 million, of which two-thirds was fraudulent. In less than three years Tweed’s “ring” of corrupt officials managed to rob the city’s treasury of $30 million.