Do Not Confuse Transparency With Justice, Interview With Julian Assange

Wikileaks founder Julian Assange lays the groundwork for sanity and clarity, two moral imperatives which become severely deluded in our modern economic infrastructure of global monetary exchange and corrupted international hierarchies with regard to law and policy. The transparency is won through the exposure of new facts, and the justice is had in their due measure via civil application on the ground. This is a bottom-up frequency of people intelligence. This is our one and only power in an age where the word, and its unforgivable silence, is one of the most powerfully dominating forces, painting such instances of carnage as the war in Iraq with the "nice" of workaday mindlessness, aloof and yet proverbial. 

Watch, and wonder why human experience has become the greatest challenge to corrupted power. 

"Politically significant leaks will be 'collaboratively analyzed by hundreds of [Wikileaks] editors in a way mainstream media-leaked documents could never dream of...'" Hanna De Jong, Wikileaks spokesperson, "Media/Web site aims to post government secrets"

________

I know this man. The narrowing, shifty corners of his immaculate apartment reek with the anticipated horrors of bachelordom. A homosexual no less, I slither through the tiny, dimly lit space, eyeing the specialty fabrics and delicate cabinetry with suspicion. This man is no frugal spender. He begins to prepare a fish salad. The salmon are now extinct. “Right and fished out all the way down to Caribbean,” he says, as I open a can of tuna.

Adaptation (2004) by César Leal Jiménez

The lights dim to near darkness as I put the last finishing touches on the salad. Lying across from one another on the carpet floor, he asks me how I deal with my oncoming death. I get nervous, as I notice him procuring a crack pipe from the folds of his clothing. I escape into the corridor halls of the apartment complex. Finding a washroom, I clamber downstairs into a basement. A mass of elderly people sits and washes in undivided toilet and shower stalls. Flabbergasted, I am at all odds. “Should I return upstairs?” Blankly, I go anywhere except back.     

________

full with brutish lies
that carefully whispers a song of superiority, stigmatized,
and the random tear, breaking at the seam of the color line
brackets, the argumentative congress
in sparked ruthless struggle

...

in our head and eye
who self-formed, began as a creative laboring
in the strong brush with a peculiar kind of will
that worshipped a diverse issuing of the ten-thousand tongued iris
performing for the blessed worldly guest

...

growing up in the solitary profundity of man, alone with nature,
wherein lies our humane passage
through social obstacles
in desire and the restrictive curse

- excerpts from "None Superior Than No One"

Malaika! Mama Africa Malaika!

"Little bird, I dream of you, little bird / Little bird, I dream of you, little bird"

- from "Malaika" favorite song of Miriam Makeba, also known as Mama Africa

________

“It all started when we began busking” she eyed me cruelly, feeling distant as ever while my scanning eyes pierce through the dizzying array of salacious bodies. The cutting immensity of decadence harbored on this night pours into our uniquely sized and filled glasses with an escalating temperament, roiling above our heads as a foreboding torrent.

I call into my childhood school from Alberta. Anxious as ever, I need to cover a deadline, before the end of spring. “I will not be present! Count me out!” as my letters turn to poetic dissertations on the finality of my language experiments, careening over a maelstrom of an ill-conceived message.

Back at the opulent restaurant table in Calgary, different sized glasses and their respective bottles and pints adorn our dining area. High end whiskeys, beers and wines flow into the embittered majestic glares at the end of a Canadian winter, survived now in the meager worries of our sex-pampered minds. My wife beside, is marked by an intense anxiety.

Exiting the table, I endeavor through night-fallen passes in these drought-severed western plains. Magically, the air breathes with otherworldly hosts. A threesome of burka-clad young girls strides deliberately from an outstretched grove, slowly needing life to burst through its seams of wintry bark. They disappear at the edge of a mysteriously placed river. The night is confident upon its paramount hour on which it enshrouds the hidden world in a veil of the spectacular above. I find a clearing. The new moon tears into the sky with quiet appeal, yet the starlight and planet’s reflections intermingle upon the wooly grass. The aura of Venus, Source of Love, kisses Jupiter, God of Power. 

_________

Planets

"Dreaming about planets could represent desire to explore either our internal world or the world of our egos (the external or physical world). Planets could also represent deeper things such as the way that we relate to ourselves. They can say something about the relationship that exists between our soul and ego...if what Carl Jung said is true, all dream images bring us back to issues of self-identity and profound understanding of self." (iDream)

_________

“majestic beauty of rushed earth” 

the Arab quest 

rinsed of ritual hatred

town-crier 

ancient as the dust 

gone

sailed 

into the flux of a speedy end

“arisen to stone but failed

shrank to mist and sold mazes for tears”

- excerpt from "Rushed Earth"