First Iran Opens Its 1st Oil Products Bourse.
Now Russia quietly prepares to switch some oil trading from dollars to rubles.
I smell the seeds of war, or some type of doomsday seeds. :¬P
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Stop Blair!
We, European citizens of all origins and of all political persuasions, wish to express our total opposition to the nomination of Tony Blair to the Presidency of the European Council.
http://www.stopblair.eu/
Monday, 18 February 2008
american style justice
In case it is taken down, I recreate here:
source
- Date of Execution:
- July 9, 1985
- Offender:
- Henry Porter #551
- Last Statement:
- I want to thank Father Walsh for his spiritual help. I want to thank Bob Ray (Sanders) and Steve Blow for their friendship. What I want people to know is that they call me a cold-blooded killer when I shot a man that shot me first. The only thing that convicted me was that I am a Mexican and that he was a police officer. People hollered for my life, and they are to have my life tonight. The people never hollered for the life of the policeman that killed a thirteen-year-old boy who was handcuffed in the back seat of a police car. The people never hollered for the life of a Houston police officer who beat up and drowned Jose Campo Torres and threw his body in the river. You call that equal justice. This is your equal justice. This is America’s equal justice. A Mexican’s life is worth nothing. When a policeman kills someone he gets a suspended sentence or probation. When a Mexican kills a police officer this is what you get. From there you call me a cold-blooded murderer. I didn’t tie anyone to a stretcher. I didn’t pump any poison into anybody’s veins from behind a locked door. You call this justice. I call this and your society a bunch of cold-blooded murderers. I don’t say this with any bitterness or anger. I just say this with truthfulness. I hope God forgives me for all my sins. I hope that God will be as merciful to society as he has been to me. I’m ready, Warden.
source
Thursday, 14 February 2008
FINALLY!!!
Political stunt or not; it's about time the non-indigenous Australians said sorry to their indigenous brothers and sisters!
I'd also like to take this opporunity to say a big "FUCK YOU!!!" to the original Australian rat pack, John Howard, Peter "Lou" Costello, Tony "Budd" Abbott and Alexander Downer. Yeah um, "FUCK ALL OF YOU!!!" if there was justice in this world you would all be paying for sending Australian's to fight a bogus war with your American masters.
I'd also like to take this opporunity to say a big "FUCK YOU!!!" to the original Australian rat pack, John Howard, Peter "Lou" Costello, Tony "Budd" Abbott and Alexander Downer. Yeah um, "FUCK ALL OF YOU!!!" if there was justice in this world you would all be paying for sending Australian's to fight a bogus war with your American masters.
Friday, 1 February 2008
untitled
We didn't do it before with the tall side to the moon and Scott reaching to darn stars in the dark night sky.
Yet we had the efficiency to place our lips on those words that allowed us no remorse for our ill got moments of self-aggrandisement.
And the sea swallowed our primacy, pulled at our eyes with her sure tidal momentum, touched us with her smooth glinting song
To us it was nothing, the beauty of it all enveloped the universe and disappeared sooner than it was noticed
And so our snug coterie bundled onwards, bumping between lashings of rock and snow swept tundra, holding to itself, memories walking through the hills, echoes of memories of echoes of memories...
if our opinions meant anything, we were -- at this point -- the richest men to have walked the land; and we expended our fortunes mercilessly upon the ancient citizenry, who when laden with such riches, lamented over their deprived youth...
Elderly men dabbled in the profound dark arts of the dead. Women bore half-breed children in our wake. We proselytised a nation of boy-men, a dawn of half-formed hunters. They erected testaments to our hardened will, and our likenesses became their esoteric signs of divinity.
Yet we had the efficiency to place our lips on those words that allowed us no remorse for our ill got moments of self-aggrandisement.
And the sea swallowed our primacy, pulled at our eyes with her sure tidal momentum, touched us with her smooth glinting song
To us it was nothing, the beauty of it all enveloped the universe and disappeared sooner than it was noticed
And so our snug coterie bundled onwards, bumping between lashings of rock and snow swept tundra, holding to itself, memories walking through the hills, echoes of memories of echoes of memories...
if our opinions meant anything, we were -- at this point -- the richest men to have walked the land; and we expended our fortunes mercilessly upon the ancient citizenry, who when laden with such riches, lamented over their deprived youth...
Elderly men dabbled in the profound dark arts of the dead. Women bore half-breed children in our wake. We proselytised a nation of boy-men, a dawn of half-formed hunters. They erected testaments to our hardened will, and our likenesses became their esoteric signs of divinity.
Conversation with a muttering madman: alternate paragraphs, theopposablethumb takes the even numbers.
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