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Bill and Kathleen Christison
Chickenhearts
at Notre Dame: the Pervasive Fear of Talking About the Israeli
Connection
December 12, 2003
Josh Frank
Halliburton,
Timber and Dean
Chris Floyd
The
Inhuman Stain
Dave Lindorff
Infanticide
as Liberation: Hiding the Dead Babies
Benjamin Dangl
Another Two Worlds Are Possible?
Jean-Paul Barrois
Two States or One? an Interview with Sami Al-Deeb on the Geneva
Accords
David Vest
Bush
Drops the Mask: They Died for Halliburton
December 11, 2003
Siegfried Sassoon
A
Soldier's Declaration Against War
Douglas Valentine
Preemptive
Manhunting: the CIA's New Assassination Program
John Chuckman
The Parable of Samarra
Peter Phillips
US Hypocrisy on War Crimes: Corp Media Goes Along for the Ride
James M. Carter
The
Merchants of Blood: War Profiteering from Vietnam to Iraq
December 10, 2003
Kurt Nimmo
The
War According to Newt Gingrich
Pat Youngblood / Robert
Jensen
Workers
Rights are Human Rights
Jeff Guntzel
On Killing Children
CounterPunch Wire
Ashcroft Threatens to Subpoena Journalist's Notes in Stewart
Case
Dave Lindorff
Gore's
Judas Kiss
December 9, 2003
Michael Donnelly
A
Gentle Warrior Passes: Craig Beneville's Quiet Thunder
Chris White
A Glitch
in the Matrix: Where is East Timor Today?
Abu Spinoza
The Occupation Concertina: Pentagon Punishes Iraqis Israeli Style
Laura Carlsen
The FTAA: a Broken Consensus
Richard Trainor
Process and Profits: the California Bullet Train, Then and Now
Josh Frank
Politicians as Usual: Gore Dean and the Greens
Ron Jacobs
Remembering
John Lennon
December 8, 2003
Newton Garver
Bolivia
at a Crossroads
John Borowski
The
Fall of a Forest Defender: the Exemplary Life of Craig Beneville
William Blum
Anti-Empire
Report: Revised Inspirations for War
Tess Harper
When Christians Kill
Thom Rutledge
My Next Step
Carol Wolman, MD
Nuclear
Terror and Psychic Numbing
Michael Neumann
Ignatieff:
Apostle of He-manitariansim
Website of the Day
Bust Bob Novak
December 6 / 7, 2003
Alexander Cockburn
The
UN: Should Be Late; Never Was Great
CounterPunch Special
Toronto Globe and Mail Kills Review of "The Politics of
Anti-Semitism"
Vicente Navarro
Salvador Dali, Fascist
Saul Landau
"Reality
Media": Michael Jackson, Bush and Iraq
Ben Tripp
How Bush Can Still Win
Gary Leupp
On Purchasing Syrian Beer
Ron Jacobs
Are We Doing Body Counts, Now?
Larry Everest
Oil, Power and Empire
Lee Sustar
Defying the Police State in Miami
Jacob Levich
When NGOs Attack: Implications for the Coup in Georgia
Toni Solo
Game Playing by Free Trade Rules: the Results from Indonesia
and Dominican Republic
Mark Scaramella
How to Fix the World Bank
Bruce Anderson
The San Francisco Mayor's Race
Brian Cloughley
Shredding the Owner's Manual: the Hollow Charter of the UN
Adam Engel
A Conversation with Tim Wise
Neve Gordon
Fuad and Ezra: an Update on Gays Under the Occupation
Kurt Nimmo
Bush Gives "Freedom" Medal to Robert Bartley
Tom Stephens
Justice Takes a Holiday
Susan Davis
Avast, Me Hearties! a Review of Disney's "Pirates of the
Caribbean"
Jeffrey St. Clair
A
Natural Eye: the Photography of Brett Weston
Mickey Z.
Press Box Red
Poets' Basement
Greeder, Orloski, Albert
T-shirt of the Weekend
Got Santorum?
December 5, 2003
Jeremy Scahill
Bremer
of the Tigris
Jeremy Brecher
Amistad
Revisited at Guantanamo?
Norman Solomon
Dean
and the Corp Media Machine
Norman Madarasz
France
Starts Facing Up to Anti-Muslim Discrimination
Pablo Mukherjee
Afghanistan:
the Road Back
December 4, 2003
M. Junaid Alam
Image
and Reality: an Interview with Norman Finkelstein
Adam Engel
Republican
Chris Floyd
Naked Gun: Sex, Blood and the FBI
Adam Federman
The US Footprint in Central Asia
Gary Leupp
The
Fall of Shevardnadze
Guthrie / Albert
RIP Clark Kerr
December 3, 2003
Stan Goff
Feeling
More Secure Yet?: Bush, Security, Energy & Money
Joanne Mariner
Profit Margins and Mortality Rates
George Bisharat
Who Caused the Palestinian Diaspora?
Mickey Z.
Tear Down That Wal-Mart
John Stanton
Bush Post-2004: a Nightmare Scenario
Harry Browne
Shannon
Warport: "No More Business as Usual"
December 2, 2003
Matt Vidal
Denial
and Deception: Before and Beyond Iraqi Freedom
Benjamin Dangl
An Interview with Evo Morales on the Colonization of the Americas
Sam Bahour
Can It Ever Really End?
Norman Solomon
That
Pew Poll on "Trade" Doesn't Pass the Sniff Test
Josh Frank
Trade
War Fears
Andrew Cockburn
Tired,
Terrified, Trigger-Happy
December 1, 2003
Fawzia Afzal-Khan
Unholy
Alliances: Zionism, US Imperialism and Islamic Fundamentalism
Dave Lindorff
Bush's
Baghdad Pitstop: Memories of LBJ in Vietnam
Harry Browne
Democracy Delayed in Northern Ireland
Wayne Madsen
Wagging the Media
Herman Benson
The New Unity Partnership for Labor: Bureaucratizing to Organize?
Gilad Atzmon
About
"World Peace"
Bill Christison
US
Foreign Policy and Intelligence: Monstrous Messes
November 29 / 30, 2003
Peter Linebaugh
On
the Anniversary of the Death of Wolfe Tone
Gary Leupp
Politicizing War on Fox News: a Tale of Two Memos
Saul Landau
Lying and Cheating:
Bush's New Political Math
Michael Adler
Inside a Miami Jail: One Activist's Narrative
Anthony Arnove
"They Put the Lie to Their Own Propaganda": an Interview
with John Pilger
Greg Weiher
Why Bush Needs Osama and Saddam
Stephen Banko, III
A Soldier's Dream
Forrest Hylton
Empire and Revolution in Bolivia
Toni Solo
The "Free Trade" History Eraser
Ben Terrall
Don't Think Twice: Bush Does Bali
Standard Schaefer
Unions
are the Answer to Supermarkets Woes
Richard Trainor
The Political Economy of Earthquakes: a Journey Across the Bay
Bridge
Mark Gaffney
US Congress Does Israel's Bidding, Again
Adam Engel
The System Really Works
Dave Lindorff
They, the Jury: How the System Rigs the Jury Pool
Susan Davis
Framing the Friedmans
Neve Gordon
Arundhati Roy's Complaint for Peace
Mitchel Cohen
Thomas Jefferson and Slavery
Ben Tripp
Capture Me, Daddy
Poets' Basement
Kearney, Albert, Guthrie and Smith
November 28, 2003
William S. Lind
Worse Than Crimes
David Vest
Turkey
Potemkin
Robert Jensen / Sam Husseini
New Bush Tape Raises Fears of Attacks
Wayne Madsen
Wag
the Turkey
Harold Gould
Suicide as WMD? Emile Durkheim Revisited
Gabriel Kolko
Vietnam
and Iraq: Has the US Learned Anything?
South Asia Tribune
The Story
of the Most Important Pakistan Army General in His Own Words
Website of the Day
Bush Draft
November 27, 2003
Mitchel Cohen
Why
I Hate Thanksgiving
Jack Wilson
An
Account of One Soldier's War
Stefan Wray
In the Shadows of the School of the Americas
Al Krebs
Food as Corporate WMD
Jim Scharplaz
Going Up Against Big Food: Weeding Out the Small Farmer
Neve Gordon
Gays
Under Occupation: Help Save the Life of Fuad Moussa
November 26, 2003
Paul de Rooij
Amnesty
International: the Case of a Rape Foretold
Bruce Jackson
Media
and War: Bringing It All Back Home
Stew Albert
Perle's
Confession: That's Entertainment
Alexander Cockburn
Miami and London: Cops in Two Cities
David Orr
Miami Heat
Tom Crumpacker
Anarchists
on the Beach
Mokhiber / Weissman
Militarization in Miami
Derek Seidman
Naming the System: an Interview with Michael Yates
Kathy Kelly
Hogtied
and Abused at Ft. Benning
Website of the Day
Iraq Procurement
November 25, 2003
Linda S. Heard
We,
the Besieged: Western Powers Redefine Democracy
Diane Christian
Hocus
Pocus in the White House: Of Warriors and Liberators
Mark Engler
Miami's
Trade Troubles
David Lindorff
Ashcroft's
Cointelpro
Website of the Day
Young McCarthyites of Texas
November 24, 2003
Jeremy Scahill
The
Miami Model
Elaine Cassel
Gulag
Americana: You Can't Come Home Again
Ron Jacobs
Iraq
Now: Oh Good, Then the War's Over?
Alexander Cockburn
Rupert Murdoch: Global Tyrant
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Alexander Cockburn
Behold,
the Head of a Neo-Con!
Subcomandante Marcos
The
Death Train of the WTO
Norman Finkelstein
Hitchens
as Model Apostate
Steve Niva
Israel's
Assassination Policy: the Trigger for Suicide Bombings?
Dardagan,
Slobodo and Williams
CounterPunch Exclusive:
20,000 Wounded Iraqi Civilians
Steve
J.B.
Prison Bitch
Sheldon
Rampton and John Stauber
True Lies: the Use of Propaganda
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Wendell
Berry
Small Destructions Add Up
CounterPunch
Wire
WMD: Who Said What When
Cindy
Corrie
A Mother's Day Talk: the Daughter
I Can't Hear From
Gore Vidal
The
Erosion of the American Dream
Francis Boyle
Impeach
Bush: A Draft Resolution
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Weekend
Edition
December 13 / 14, 2003
Opening Statements
The
Map is not the Territory
By JEFFREY ST. CLAIR
(An excerpt from Been
Brown So Long It Looked Like Green to Me: the Politics of Nature.)
Our house sits on the rim of a canyon sheathed
in Douglas-fir. The creek down below is roaring this time of
year. Chinook salmon still climb its torrents. Spawn and die.
We find their carcasses, picked over by ravens. There are fewer
dead salmon every year. This is not a good sign.
Osprey twist in the air on bent wings
nearly every morning, cruising over the creek bed for live fish.
Year after year they rear new broods in the craggy top of a broken
hemlock, the nest an inverted igloo of found material-a model
of organic architecture. The creek flows into the mighty Clackamas
River a couple of miles away. At the confluence is an old mill
site. The ground is saturated in creosote and PCBs, leaching
remorselessly into the water, the flesh of salmon, the blood
of osprey.
At least one cougar still prowls the
canyon. Some nights we awaken to its eerie moaning. Dogs have
gone missing. Big ones. But we hear the cat less often now. The
city advances, glowing with light. The canyon is an island eroded
by sprawl.
On clear days the stark pyramid of Mt.
Hood flashes into view on the eastern horizon; its flanks draped
with glaciers, pink as coho flesh. The glaciers are in retreat.
The history of the forest is written on the face of those mountains,
sixty miles distant. In winter, the clearcuts shimmer with snow,
thousands of them, separated only by thin veins of ancient trees.
This land is a battlefield. Perhaps, the largest in the nation.
It sprawls over millions of acres. There have been so many losses.
Stumps twelve feet across stand as headstones of the fallen.
Still it rages. And the blood boils.
In 1990, Kimberly and I moved our family
from the hill country of southern Indiana to Oregon. We were
looking for someplace green, wet and foggy. We were told such
weather was good for the skin, not a purely narcissistic consideration
given the daily shredding of the ozone layer. There were other
considerations, too: thousand year old trees, six-hundred foot
waterfalls, salmon, spotted owls, black bears, free-flowing rivers,
progressive politics. The essentials of life.
Of course, the essentials aren't that
easy to come by. The New Physicists have a saying: the map is
not the territory. The conundrum is a metaphor for sub-atomic
matter that rearranges itself so quickly that any depiction of
its traces becomes obsolete before it is even drawn. When we
arrived in Oregon, the Pacific Northwest was in the midst of
the Great Change. Sure, Oregon still offered most of what we
imagined, but there was less of it every day. In a word (Ed Abbey's),
Oregon was being "Californicated": paved, smogged,
subdivided, dammed, logged, mined, spiked with cell-phone towers,
bankrupted schools, malicious rightwing politicos in the ascendancy.
It even sported an ailing nuclear plant named after a condom:
Trojan. But there was nothing remotely prophylactic about that
demonic tower.
When you think of Oregon, you probably
think of forests. The highway maps help pump the mystique, splashing
wide swaths of green across the state. It's another illusion.
Two-thirds of the Oregon is desert, high desert: parched, austere,
beautiful and vulnerable. The other third of the state, a thin
150-mile wide band from the Cascade Mountains to the Pacific
Coast, harbors the mightiest forest on the continent. Now it
too is becoming a kind of desert, a biological desert, an ecological
dead zone.
A century of unbridled clearcutting has
taken its toll. By 1980, the Cascades, that lush volcanic range
running from British Columbia to northern California, had been
transformed into a patchwork of a hundred thousand clearcuts,
a sight so surreal that stunned even President Carter when he
flew over Mt. St. Helens to survey the damage. Carter mistook
the scars of logging for the blast of the volcano. There's a
difference. The forests flattened by Mount St. Helens are starting
to come back to life. The land leveled by the timber cartel isn't.
Many frail coastal mountainsides, punctured
by logging roads and the forests shaved to the bedrock, simply
collapse each winter in monstrous landslides, burying some of
the world's most fertile salmon streams under mega-tonnage of
rock and mud. This is the pillaged landscape of Ken Kesey's Sometimes
A Great Notion. Never give an inch. Don't stop cutting until
you reach the bone. Suck out the marrow and move on. There's
never been a better guide to Oregon than that strange muddy
novel.
But now the ravaged land of the Coast
Range, in a kind of death spasm, is beginning to lash back. With
a fearsome regularity, the winter landslides have begun crushing
the new houses and trailers that regularly sprout up on logged-over
forests. These days the clearcuts are killing more than salmon
and owls.
Empires were built off the rape of these
forests: Boise/Cascade, Georgia-Pacific, Louisiana-Pacific, Willamette
Industries, International Paper and, mightiest of all, Weyerhaeuser.
These corporations played a two-step game. Most of the companies
owned millions of acres of their own land, acquired for pennies
an acre through the Railroad Land Grants of the nineteenth century.
Each one those acres harbored tens of thousands of dollars worth
of trees, mainly Douglas fir, the wood that built suburban America.
Billions were made unfettered by law or morality or even common
sense. A kind of capitalist anarchy swept through the woods;
cut and run was its mantra. It is a theme that replicated itself
across the mountains with the mercilessness of the parasitic
beast in Ridley Scott's Alien, consuming its host forest and
moving on to fresh ground.
In the early 60s, the timber behemoths
had blitzed through their own vast holdings and turned their
sights on the national forests. They got them. By 1970, logging
on the public lands in the northwest had more than doubled. The
writing was on the wall for the spotted owl, marbled murrelet,
coho salmon and 800 other species that depend on old-growth forests.
By the time we arrived in Oregon, the timber industry was clearcutting
more than 256,000 acres of national forest land in Oregon and
Washington each year. Nationwide, the logged-over acres topped
a million annually. These are national forests. Public lands.
Your forests. Pissed off yet?
The timber barons are masters of the
art of corruption and for decades they've had every politician
in the Northwest firmly pocketed, liberal Democrats and rightwing
Republicans, alike. It's served them very well, indeed. When
pesky laws like the Endangered Species Act blockaded their way,
they had their politicians declare the logging exempt from such
legal constraints. When federal judges ruled against them, they
got Congress to overturn the injunctions. When Forest Service
employees, such as my friend Jeff DeBonis, blew the whistle on
illegalities, the timber industry got them transferred, demoted
or fired. When Weyerhaeuser came under scrutiny by the Justice
Department in a multi-million dollar timber theft case, the timber
giant prevailed on the Clinton administration to quash the probe.
Similar investigations into bid rigging, fraud and monopolistic
practices got terminated from above.
With legal avenues of protest routinely
annulled by Congress, forest defenders adopted more creative
tactics. Along the Brietenbush River, Lew Herd buried himself
up to his neck in a pile of boulders to block a logging road.
Julia Butterfly and others took to the trees themselves, living
in them as human shields against the chainsaws. At Warner Creek
in the High Cascades, Earth First!ers built a makeshift fortress
in the forest to fend off the loggers, squatting there through
a winter that saw more than 500 inches of snow fall. George Atiyeh,
a Vietnam vet and nephew of a former Oregon governor, held off
Forest Service timber sale planners with a shotgun as they tried
to mark for cutting the thousand year old trees at Opal Creek.
A decade later, and despite all odds, those trees are still
standing, now fully protected as a wilderness area.
Still the lost acres stagger the mind.
Ninety-five percent of the primary forest, the ancient trees
of the Northwest, had been liquidated by 1990, the year of the
Earth Summit in Rio. At the global pow-wow, one American politician
after another (except George Bush the First, who snubbed the
entire show) rose to chastise Brazil for the destruction of the
Amazon, where 75 percent of the primary forest remained intact.
These same politicians, led by Democratic Party luminaries such
as House Speaker Tom Foley, had underwritten the looting of the
temperate rainforests of the Northwest and tried to crush any
environmentalists who stood in their way. Of course, Foley is
gone and greens helped to bring the titan down. So there's reason
for hope.
We were somewhat prepped for the great
struggle for the Northwest's forests, but nobody told us anything
about Hanford. The last free-flowing stretch of the Columbia
River cuts through a place of death and terror, the place where
they assembled hydrogen bombs: the Hanford Nuclear Reservation.
The bomb making there is largely over. But the horrific echoes
of that age will never go away. It may be the most polluted place
in the world, seething with tons radioactive waste that will
haunt the entire Northwest for millennia to come. There are
easy no answers to the Hanford crisis. Indeed, there may well
be no answers at all. The technology that built the bombs has
no idea how to clean up the mess. In the meantime, the downwinders
from Spokane to Portland pay the price. The price is cancer of
the thyroid, of the lungs, of the blood. The Soviet Union is
kaput, but the atomic clock is ticking in the middle of the American
outback. Some Hanford investigators warn that the leaking tanks
of radioactive debris may get so hot they'll explode-if the worst
happens, it will be a dirty bomb we've dropped on ourselves.
The West is a vast place, but not nearly
vast enough to handle all the demands laid upon it. Drive down
any road in the Interior West and the ongoing ruination passes
by your window in a grim montage: open pit mines a mile wide
and a half a mile deep, leach piles of cyanide, bombing ranges,
nuclear labs, and the internment camps known as Indian reservations.
The interior West is America's own version of the Third World,
a resource colony to be pillaged and abandoned. The timber and
minerals are extracted as fast as possible and rendered into
cash. Of course, the money doesn't stick around these parts.
The boom and bust towns that sprouted up during the frenzies,
never boomed that big and when they busted they descended into
a gloom as terminal as any Kurt Cobain song. Want a taste? Try
the asbestos wasteland of Libby, Montana or the mining towns
Elko, Nevada and Wallace, Idaho. Places that might even give
David Lynch, director of Twin Peaks, the creeps.
You can graph the damage in tables and
bar charts, but it doesn't do it justice. For that you need to
get out there and witness the roughened edges of the West yourself:
the orange flow of Iron Mike Creek, a Montana stream defiled
by mining; the sound of F-16s screeching across the Superstition
Mountains; the omnipresent smell of cowshit in the Gila Wilderness;
the feel of your fingers skimming over 800 growth rings on the
stump of a Douglas-fir along the Umpqua River.
There were fervent hopes that the election
of Clinton and his slime green sidekick Al Gore would apply the
brakes, pass new laws with sharp teeth, prosecute polluters,
set aside wildlands from the dozers and the chainsaws, turn away
from oil, uranium and coal and toward the sun. Instead, the Clinton/Gore
era turned out to be a short-lived romance that ended in the
environmental equivalent of date rape. For eight years, the forests,
deserts and rivers took a beating, but the real loser was the
environmental movement itself.
Oregon was a hotbed of environmental
activism in the 1980s and early 1990s. It's a big state with
a small (though not small enough) population. But Oregon boasted
more environmental groups than any other state, even more than
that golden tragedy to the south of us, California. This was
not merely a sign of an elevated consciousness. It was, to deploy
the breathless language of Ashcroft, an indication of the dire
threat level.
The threat hasn't diminished by any means,
but the number of groups has shriveled. They couldn't survive
the Clinton ice age. Many of the smaller groups simply flatlined.
Meanwhile the mainstream groups got bigger and bigger and less
and less effective. By the mid-1990s, mainstream environmentalism
had become fattened and tongue-tied by foundation grants (many
originating from the fortunes of big oil) and blindered by a
reflexive loyalty to the Democratic Party. The new green executives
sported six-figure salaries, drove around in limos and worked
out of DC offices as plush as the headquarters of Chemical Manufacturer's
Association. But the movement lacks heart and guts.
Along the way, I've come to disdain institutional
environmentalism, as little more than soft-soled courtiers to
entrenched power. Once the environmental movement was seen as
a public interest movement of unimpeachable integrity-trusted
by the left, despised and feared by the corporate right. After
Clinton, many people rightly saw professional environmentalists
as just another special interest lobby, obedient hand puppets
of the DNC. The great Southwest writer and desert rat Charles
Bowden says he'd never belong to any tax-deductible group, since
the very tax status serves as a kind of seal of approval from
the government. He's got a point. When the Sierra Club got too
demanding in the 1960s, the IRS threatened to take away its coveted
tax status. It promptly settled down.
As my old friend David Brower warned:
"When we prevail, it's just a stay of execution. When the
corporations win, they win forever. That's why we must be eternally
vigilant." But eternal vigilance is wearying. The daily
life of a grassroots green (as opposed to the DC subspecies)
fighting big corporations is grueling and filled with vicissitudes.
There are few rewards and many, many defeats, each one bitter
and inconsolable. It's hard not to be worn down by it all. Now
wonder so many enviros these days sound like glowering prudes,
freighting a rhetoric of doomsterism. But we must fight against
it, because it's unhealthy and no way to build a movement.
Brower himself never surrendered to the
grave pessimism that is standard fare in the direct mail appeals
of his former employer the Sierra Club and the other Beltway
greens. Indeed, the last time I saw Dave was a few months before
he died. We were in a parking lot overlooking that monument of
evil: Glen Canyon Dam. Hundreds of young activists had joined
us in the broiling Arizona sun, united in a single cause: the
liberation of the Colorado River and the restoration of Glen
Canyon. "Hell, I think we've really got a chance now,"
Brower said, his eyes sparkling with optimism.
Cling to that optimism that fired Brower's
soul for 85 years. And remember Abbey's admonition to be a part-time
warrior, sparing time to enjoy the offerings of the planet you're
fighting to preserve. And it's okay to have a sense of humor.
In fact, it's mandatory. At CounterPunch out motto is:
be as radical as reality. Fight fiercely for what you feel passionate
about, no matter how long the odds seem. But don't fret so much
about the meta-crises, such as global warming or ozone depletion.
It'll only weigh you down and drive you toward nihilistic despair.
There's a war going on just outside your
window. It's a battle for life itself. So stow away this silly
book and come join it. Remember: the map is not the territory.
So burn the maps and get lost in the territory, while you've
still got a chance.
Weekend
Edition Features for Nov. 29 / 30, 2003
Alexander Cockburn
The
UN: Should Be Late; Never Was Great
CounterPunch Special
Toronto Globe and Mail Kills Review of "The Politics of
Anti-Semitism"
Vicente Navarro
Salvador Dali, Fascist
Saul Landau
"Reality
Media": Michael Jackson, Bush and Iraq
Ben Tripp
How Bush Can Still Win
Gary Leupp
On Purchasing Syrian Beer
Ron Jacobs
Are We Doing Body Counts, Now?
Larry Everest
Oil, Power and Empire
Lee Sustar
Defying the Police State in Miami
Jacob Levich
When NGOs Attack: Implications for the Coup in Georgia
Toni Solo
Game Playing by Free Trade Rules: the Results from Indonesia
and Dominican Republic
Mark Scaramella
How to Fix the World Bank
Bruce Anderson
The San Francisco Mayor's Race
Brian Cloughley
Shredding the Owner's Manual: the Hollow Charter of the UN
Adam Engel
A Conversation with Tim Wise
Neve Gordon
Fuad and Ezra: an Update on Gays Under the Occupation
Kurt Nimmo
Bush Gives "Freedom" Medal to Robert Bartley
Tom Stephens
Justice Takes a Holiday
Susan Davis
Avast, Me Hearties! a Review of Disney's "Pirates of the
Caribbean"
Jeffrey St. Clair
A
Natural Eye: the Photography of Brett Weston
Mickey Z.
Press Box Red
Poets' Basement
Greeder, Orloski, Albert
T-shirt of the Weekend
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