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August 28,
2004
Alexander Cockburn
Zombies
for Kerry
August 27,
2004
Gary Leupp
Neocon
Musings
Robin Cook
The
Ghosts of Abu Ghraib
Diane Christian
Disarming
Michael Donnelly
Situational Democracy: the Show Me the Green Party?
Jack Random
4F and Other Heroes: an Army of War Resisters
Mike Ferner
"To the Swift Boats!"
Mazin Qumsiyeh
7000 Palestinian Political Prisoners
Veronza Bowers, Jr.
"You Won't Be Leaving Tomorrow"
Sex, Drugs & the Blues!
Serpents in the Garden
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August 26,
2004
M. Shahid Alam
The
Clash Thesis: a Failing Ideology?
Diane Christian
War
Rules: Bush is No Sun Tzu
Derek Seidman
"They're As Bad As Wal-Mart:" Starbucks Workers Get
Organized
David Lindorff
Court to RNC Protesters: Drop the Rally
Christopher
Brauchli
Signs of Dissent: the Bush in the Bubble
Stew Albert
Reporting Suspicious Activity
Mark Donham
Judgement in Athens: Give the Koreans Their Day in Court
Saul Landau
Pinochet:
the Al Capone of the Southern Cone
Website of
the Day
The Kerry 527 Ad You'll Never See
August 25,
2004
Amelia Peltz
Can
I Have 9.8 Seconds of Your Time?
Noah Leavitt
Defining and Redefining Torture
Ron Jacobs
Takin' It to the Streets: It's Not About the Election, It's About
Democracy
James Brooks
Coronado Crosses the Jordan
Akiva Eldar
How to Win the Jewish Vote: Turn Gaza into a "Mini-Afghanistan"
Gemma Araneta
Chavez's New Brand of Populism
Philip Cryan
Uribe's Boys: the Death Squads of Colombia
CounterPunch Wire
Cheney Opens the Closet Door
August 24,
2004
Jeremy Scahill
John
Kerry: the Warchurian Candidate
Gary Leupp
"We
Want Them to Go Away"
David Domke
God
Willing: an Echoing Press and Political Fundamentalism
William Loren Katz
The Meaning of Hugo Chávez: Black and Indian Power in
Venezuela
Jonah Gindin
With Chavez? Reading the International Private Media
Fran Schor
Denying Atrocities: From Vietnam to Fallujah
Joe Bageant
Driving
on the Bones of God
Website of the Day
The Great America Lockdown: a Primer for the RNC
August 23,
2004
Winslow Wheeler
Don't
Mind If I Do: Porkbarrel and the War on Terror
John Pilger
Bush
May Be the Lesser Evil
Stan Goff
Swift
Boat Dogfight
Bill and Kathleen
Christison
Notes
from the West Bank: Build, Demolish, Rebuild
Mike Whitney
The Unraveling of Afghanistan
William Blum
Brave
New World of Iraqi Sovereignty
Ralph Nader
A Letter to the Washington Post: a Shameful and Unsavory Editorial
August 21 /
22, 2004
Cockburn /
St. Clair
"They
Want Blood:" The Bi-Partisan Origins of the Total War on
Drugs
Landau / Hassen
Failing
the Mission? Form a Commission
Brian Cloughley
The
Bush Team in Iraq: Moral Cowardice, as Practiced by Experts
Josh Frank
Nader as David Duke? The ADL Wants You to Think So
Mike Whitney
Reincarnating Mengele: the Torture Doctors of Abu Ghraib
Ron Jacobs
Day Labor Blues
Mickey Z.
Shooting at Whales: 40 Years After Tonkin
Fred Gardner
Dr. Wolman Comes Out: The Cannabis Consultants
Dave Zirin
Uprising in Athens: Iraqi Soccer Team Gives Bush the Boot
Josh Saxe
Witnessing Police Brutality in LA
Yanar Mohammed
Letter from Baghdad: a Democracy of Killings and Bombings
Helen Williams
Ali's Story: a Taste of Reality from Baghdad
Michael Donnelly
Elemental and NaturalForests, Fire and Recovery
Elizabeth Schulte
The Crisis in Affordable Housing
Poets' Basement
Adler, Albert, Virgil, Ford and Krieger
Hot Stories
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
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Sheldon
Rampton and John Stauber
True Lies: the Use of Propaganda
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Wendell
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Small Destructions Add Up
CounterPunch
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WMD: Who Said What When
Cindy
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A Mother's Day Talk: the Daughter
I Can't Hear From
Gore Vidal
The
Erosion of the American Dream
Francis Boyle
Impeach
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Weekend
Edition
August 28 / 29, 2004
Where's
Mao When You Really Need Him?
The
New Age Racket and the Left
By
JUSTIN E.H. SMITH
This weekend I'm heading down to New
York to do what I can to topple the regime in power as they brazenly
exploit my spiritual hometown for the backdrop to the Republican
National Convention. With the legality of the United for Peace
and Justice demonstration still very much in question, and massive
arrests thus likely (if legal assembly is not possible, the only
other option is the illegal kind), I fear my next missive to
Counterpunch may be a rather somber one. With this in mind, I
thought it appropriate to use the opportunity to write on something
at least superficially frivolous while the times still, if barely,
permit it. My love life struck me as a good theme.
I went on a date recently.
It was all going smoothly. There was more than a hint of mutual
attaction. She was of an appropriate age and had gone to all
the right schools. So had I. We both knew how to use our silverware.
As if all this weren't enough, she had even given some indications
that we were politically compatible (I'll be honest, I'm for
legalizing just about everything the social conservatives fear,
and collectivizing just about everything the fiscal conservatives
own). Then she went and asked me what my sign was. Damn, I thought,
why is there always something?
But enough about me. Let's
get to the issues. I would like to discuss that movement often
covered by the umbrella term 'New Age', and to argue, specifically,
that New Agers should be ashamed of themselves, for abandoning
all concern with those goals that have traditionally served as
the driving force of progressive politics, like social justice,
equality, the end of oppression, etc., and allowing -nay, aiding-
the cynical and opportunistic power-mongers to make the world
as disappointing a place as it currently is.
Before this polemic begins
in earnest, perhaps it will be best to sketch out a definition
of the concept that concerns us. By 'New Age' I mean to refer
to any world-view that:
1. is decidedly postmodern,
in that it picks and chooses from vastly older traditions those
features it finds useful;
2. is sloppily multiculturalist,
in that it levels out and denies legitimate distinctions between
the traditions from which it borrows;
3. is individualistic, in that
it takes spirituality to be a 'quest', and sees the ultimate
end of this quest as self-fulfillment (however much it may borrow
from traditions that emphasize self-overcoming or dissolution
of the ego, even at times insisting that it shares this goal);
4. is nostalgic, in that it
maintains that with the rise of modernity, humanity experienced
the loss of a distinctly 'spiritual' disposition, in contrast
with the rational disposition;
5. in large part as a consequence
of its suspicion of rationality, is also uncritical as a matter
of principle;
6. portrays itself as apolitical,
or, better, as tapping into a reality so profound that any explanation
of it in terms of the social, economic, and historical plights
of its adherents can be safely dismissed as irrelevant.
I propose, in contrast to the
last of these, that the New Age movement can only be understood
politically. In an atmosphere, moreover, in which one rarely
come across a self-identified anarchist, socialist, environmentalist,
or progressive who will not also willingly identify his or her
star sign and proceed to expatiate on the finer details this
totemic affiliation reveals about his or her personality, I must
add that it is exceedingly urgent that we come to a political
understanding of how it has come to this, and then proceed to
purge this disgraceful tendency utterly from our ranks, either
through re-education or, for the intractable, banishment.
That's right. It's time for
all of us who consider ourselves even mildly progressive to get
at least a little bit Maoist on the occultists' asses, confident
in the singular correctness of the scientific world-view, and
intolerant of 'difference' when all this manages to give us is
muddle-headed obscurantism.
It is not for nothing that
I bring up Mao here. For New Ageism represents but one of the
two possible outcomes of the 1960s. The other possible outcome,
unflinching revolution against the status quo in society and
its consequent radical transformation, fizzled out in the first
decade of the 1970s, as all those Aquarians who, around 1967,
joined up for the sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, quickly realized
they did not want to go all that far in pushing the dawning of
a new age after all, by, say, joining violent revolutionary groups
like the Weathermen and Black Panthers in the US, the Baader-Meinhof
gang in Germany, and the Red Brigade in France, but were unable
to come up with any more creative, non-violent ways of transforming
society. The age of Aquarius, in short, won out over the dictatorship
of the proletariat. Santa Cruz emerged victorious over Beijing.
But why, precisely, crystals? Why this feel-good Buddhism lite
hocked by the Dalai Lama? Why the insistence from just about
every whitebread American you meet that they have a bit of Native
American blood, and thus have some privileged insight into animals,
or dreams, or life and death? New Age, in the particular form
it came to have in the 1970s, was the result of the confluence
of two distinct trends extending back to the 19th century. One
was the proliferation of curiosity about paranormal phenomena,
such as animal magnetism, telepathy, and communication with the
dead, that so fascinated Victorian parlor company. Early on,
some of these programs of investigation were legitimate, and
it is only because they were pursued that we have been able to
determine as much as we have (and we've only just begun) about
the boundary between sane and meaningful discourse on the one
hand and bullshit on the other. But for the most part, they drew
the attention they did because the positive results that establishment
science is able to come up with are generally quite dull, and
certainly won't do as entertainment.
The other important development
that contributed to the emergence of New Age was anthropology,
which, while originally a mere academic apologia for the domination
of the Europeans over the rest, by the mid-20th century had come
around to the laudable view that cultures that emerged outside
of the bounds of Christendom all, without exception, managed
to come up with perfectly adequate, nuanced, and respect-worthy
ways of dealing with the natural world and their human neighbors,
and all without any paternalistic assistance from colonial overlords.
In short, the Age of Aquarius
did not pop out of nowhere. Aleister Crowley, Madame Blavatsky,
and Bronislaw Malinowski all played their parts, and in an era
when, as the popular narrative (of American history anyway) has
it, the vast majority of people were still good, simple, rule-following,
God-fearing folk.
But all of this is old hat.
What has not been sufficiently emphasized, in my view, is the
way in which the victory of the Age of Aquarius over the dictatorship
of the proletariat, New Age over revolutionism, was easily, happily,
accommodated by those in power. Go ahead, transform yourselves.
Absorb all the energy you can from that crystal around your
neck. Just don't try to change the world, or take control of
the means of production, and we won't seek to stamp you out.
While its adepts see it as an 'elevation' or 'liberation', in
fact New Age is a retreat and a capitulation.
Indeed, self-fulfillment is
not just easily accommodated within the system against which
the counterculture initially set itself up in opposition. It
is a positive goldmine. Browse at an airport bookstore on a stopover.
Look at the titles on the New York Times bestseller list. It
would take a naïveté I can't even begin to comprehend
to fail to notice that spirituality -what passes for Eastern
spirituality, in particular- is by now a commodity like any other.
This phenomenon is now being treated by a very small number of
social scientists. The French sociologist Raphaël Liogier,
for instance, in his Bouddhisme mondialisé: une perspective
sociologique sur la globalisation du religieux (Ellipses, 2004;
sorry, Republicans, there's no translation yet), shows how the
globalization and commodification of this religion promotes an
odd combination of a gratifying sense of planetary citizenship
with the same sort of ego-inflating, success-driven advice one
finds in those troubling self-help/business paperbacks that sell
so well, like The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
But why call it Buddhism, if
it's all made up anyway? Why not impose the New Age ethos on
our own, autochthonous Christianity? Again, it will help to recall
two of the features of New Agery listed above: its sloppy multiculturalism,
and its knee-jerk suspicion of whatever is 'Western' (which,
Ethiopian and Armenian Orthodoxy, Latin American Liberation Theology,
etc., notwithstanding, for some reason includes Christianity),
as being too 'rational' and thus insufficiently 'spiritual'.
No, to find any authentic spiritual
sentiment, or at least to market a product with the promise of
authentic spiritual transformation, we must climb the Himalayas,
or at least imagine ourselves on such a journey while flying
to a meeting at the Kansas City branch office. The Dalai Lama
serves as the best example of this tendency, and is likely also
the best-selling product the New Age industry has yet put on
the market. This is particularly troubling when we consider the
fact that the Dalai Lama is, among other things, a political
leader, whose movement has been conferred a legitimacy beyond
scrutiny simply in virtue of his purported holiness.
What is so worthy about the
Tibetan cause? How many if its supporters can really say? I'm
not saying that it is not a worthy cause; many movements for
national liberation are. But what about the Basque Country, Corsica,
and Turkish Kurdistan? Nobody believes that continued occupation
of these national homelands involves any sort of spiritual injustice,
only the mundane political kind. This is all it should take,
of course, to earn the global community's opprobrium, yet Richard
Gere and the Beastie Boys remain deathly silent, for these other
national-liberation struggles lack a leader sporting a robe and
claiming to be a divinity. Meanwhile, his Holiness jets around,
meeting with world leaders and persuading them to support his
cause- including George W. Bush, whom the Dalai Lama deemed to
be, like himself, a 'very spiritual person'. And even through
all this, he is seen as being somehow beyond politics. This is
the great illusion that sustains the New Age racket: that, because
it is so spiritual, it is beyond all serious scrutiny. The proper
comportment towards it is with bowed head, not open eyes.
At best, then, New Age is a
lucrative side venture of neoliberalism, lining the pockets of
those crafty enough to package spiritual fulfillment as a marketable
product while leaving the spiritually hungry as unsated as ever.
At worst, though, it is the expression of something altogether
more sinister. Rootedness in the earth, a return to pure and
authentic folkways, the embrace of irrationalism, the conviction
that there is an authentic way of being beyond politics, the
uncritical substitution of group- identification for self-knowledge,
are all of them basic features of right- wing ideology.
Who is it that is out of touch
with the earth, uprooted, and thus responsible for our own experience
of ourselves as uprooted? The right- winger has a quick answer:
it is those other people living uninvited among us, who have
no homeland of their own and so have to dwell on our soil. Who
or what is to blame for our loss of our old ways? The rise of
the modern, rational state apparatus, with its love of science
and deafness to poetry. Who or what has torn our people apart,
dividing worker from baron, denying that we all share the same
blood? The politics of class conflict.
In the case of Germany in the
1920s, it was the Jews who were the rootless intruders on German
soil and threatened by their presence the German nation, since
blood was seen as a sort of distillation out of the soil itself.
France, and to some extent England, were seen as having imposed
an overly rationalized state apparatus that was incompatible
with the more deeply rooted, 'poetic' way of life of the Germans.
And Marxism, a Jewish invention, was the wedge that separated
different groups of Germans based on the otherwise insignificant
criterion of class, and ignored the more important fact that,
bourgeois or proletariat, Germans all have the same blood, distilled
from the same soil, pumping through their veins.
Germany is its own case, of
course, and it is always wise to remain skeptical of any invocation
of the Nazis to denounce whatever tendency in contemporary society
one finds displeasing. There is nothing in the vapid chatter
about star signs that takes place in hair salons and on first
dates throughout America that should cause us to worry about
an imminent repetition of the Holocaust.
That said, it is also a safe
bet that the diversion this vapid chatter allows, the flight
into a domain that feels 'profounder than politics', has to no
small extent contributed to the demise of a genuinely progressive
political culture in the United States and facilitated the rise
of an administration that, if superficially offensive to most
New Agers (though not all: Ronald Reagan, after all, was both
the godfather of neoconservatism and an enthusiastic consulter
of oracles), at least shares with them the suspicion of good
arguments, and the habit of claiming to derive authority from
some je ne sais quoi beyond the bounds of human affairs. Most
of all, the uncritical resignation required in order for one
to get wrapped up in something like astrology is exactly the
sort of disposition, when it takes hold of millions of otherwise
dissenting minds, that best suits the purposes of a regime like
the one currently in power.
The most common response that
I get from horoscope readers when I express my displeasure at
being asked for my star sign (after being told that I am boring,
disagreeable, hyperrational, linear, Western, etc.), is that
I've misunderstood, that the activity I'm being asked to play
along in is mere 'fun'. This exculpation is offered on the apparent
assumption that whatever is fun (shooting bison from a moving
train? sex with 16-year-olds?) is for that very reason removed
from the bounds of moral consideration. I feel like responding:
I did not presume you were doing this to torture yourself. What
I'm confused about is not whether you find this fun or not, but
why you find it fun.
As far as I can tell, the fun
is thought to arise from the whimsy of suspending scrutiny, from
making believe believe that these little blurbs about 'Cancers'
or 'Scorpios' were produced by no one in particular (not to mention
by someone about as thoughtful and caring as the composer of
text in Sunday-paper coupon inserts), but rather issue forth
spontaneously from the heavens, or nature, or, again, some reality
more profound than the one the other sections of the newspaper
report on. In other words, it is fun to suspend one's understanding
of one's newspaper as being that third-rate, center-right, small-time
local rag it is (and I can come up with comparable epithets for
women's magazines, or any other medium that deals in horoscopes),
and treat it as revealed scripture.
But the problem is precisely
that horoscopes are written by people, to wit, uninspired hacks,
who then submit their humble work to publishers in media with
vested ideological interests and advertisers to please. Why is
this so easy to grasp when reading the editorial page, and so
easy to forget when reading the 'fun' stuff? Or is it not so
easy for most to grasp in the former case? Could it be that the
most docile readership, the public best conditioned to allow
the rise to power of fraudulent and cynical leaders, is the one
that inadvertently permits its uncritical, just-for-fun reading
of horoscopes to spill out of that frivolous section and into
the ostensibly serious pages of those ever so un-fun features,
like national and international news, the education supplement,
or the business section? Could it be that the horoscope is not
meant as a break from the seriousness of the 'real' sections
of the newspaper, but indeed at its most effective serves as
a sort of legend for how to read these other sections? Don't
question. Swallow. We're here to amuse and comfort you (and,
when useful, to worry you), not, dear reader, to promote some
sort of awakening.
A similar point was made long
ago by Theodor Adorno in his study of the horoscope section of
the Los Angeles Times in the early 1950s, subsequently published
under the title The Stars Down to Earth. He argued that horoscopes,
if not in themselves permeated by fascist ideology, promote the
sort of submission to abstract authority that paves the way for
the rise of fascism. Earlier, in the Dialectic of Enlightenment,
Adorno had railed against the Nazi denunciation of psychoanalysis.
Isn't it revealing, he asked, of the true nature of this movement
that it disdains with such ferocity the endeavor to know oneself?
Fascism would prefer that its subjects engage in a more harmless
variety of searching for self-knowledge, the kind that comes
to nothing, motivates no overcoming of dependency upon paternal
authority, whether the original, family variety, or the kind
that's invested in a Führer. Runes, anyone?
Many New Agers seem to feel
not just secure in but altogether self-righteous about the benevolence
of their world-view, pointing to the fact, for example, that
it 'celebrates' the native cultures that global capitalism would
plow over. To this one might respond, first of all, that celebration
of native cultures is itself big business. Starbucks does it.
So, in its rhetoric, does the Southeast Asian sex-tourism industry.
Second, the simple fact that New Age is by its own lights multicultural
and syncretistic is by no means a guarantee that it is safe from
the accusation of being, at best, permissive of, and, at worst,
itself an expression of, right-wing ideology. The Nazis, to
return to a tried and true example, were no less obsessed with
Indian spirituality than was George Harrison. Indeed, the Beatles
and the other followers of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi were not
trailblazers among Europeans, as the aging hippies still like
to think; the sitar on Rubber Soul was not the first time in
history a subcontinental flourish made its way into European
arts and literature. This was only a very recent instance of
a trend that extends back to the early 19th century, in Germany,
and includes many of the Romantic authors, of whose ideas Nazism
was not so much a distortion as a particularly bold strain.
There is another side of this
story I hesitate to touch on. Bluntly though, it would be a gross
omission to pretend to address the topic of New Agery while failing
to acknowledge how strictly and predictably most conversations
about star signs, etc., follow a script in which roles are determined
according to gender. My date was not an aberration. Just try
to imagine, for example, a heterosexual first date on which it
is the man, and not the woman, who says: "I'm just not sure.
I mean, Virgos and Geminis are usually a bad match." This
is as gendered an exclamation as those heard on first dates in
some long-gone era, wherein ladies would declare they needed
to repair to the powder room to freshen up, and men would drop
hints of their relative affluence.
Perhaps this is progress. Women
can now enjoy their own 'ways of knowing', while men, at least
in the early stages of a relationship, have no choice but to
conjure a sustained look of sincere interest if they hope to
get what they came for. Why, after all, should women be the only
ones forced to sit politely as potential mates hold forth on
topics the other cares nothing about? (There are, of course,
a few men out there who relish reciting the finer points of ascendants
and cusps, though one gets the feeling that what drives them
has more to do with the admiring gaze of the bevy of women such
a performance attracts than with the topic itself.)
Or is it progress? I, who will
likely be accused of having no real insight when it comes to
women's ways of knowing, get a whiff in this accusation of a
sexism much more insisdious than that suggested by my fondness
for scientific method. For the tolerant smile of that hopeful
lad on his first date conceals a shameful presumption, that the
cute girl across the table isn't really of the same species as
he, that she, while perhaps capable of communicating in her own
way, like whales with their alien songs, cannot reasonably be
expected to converse with a full-fledged human in his language,
the one that captures the world as it is.
This presumption is shameful
because (at risk of sounding too much like an old-school humanist)
we are only dealing with one species here, and there is in fact
no such thing as a woman's way of knowing. There are just different
ways for human beings to respond to different social exigencies.
In the 1920s and '30s, defeated and hopeless, Germans imagined
themselves superior to their vanquishers by contrasting their
own deep-rooted and romantic national identity with the hyperrational
efficiency of the French. (Indeed, it is a vivid indication of
the success of denazification in German culture that just 60
years later it is they themselves who are stereotyped as excessively
orderly and punctual.) In the 1970s, those hippies who discovered
they didn't quite have the energy or -dare I say it?- the courage
for revolution, found it convenient to recast their would-be
political opposition in the harmless language of self-discovery,
of journeying within, in a way that was perhaps not comprehended
by their rational, scientific, regulated (etc.) society, but
also did not pose any threat to this society. Today, some women
-many of whom believe themselves to be politically progressive-
find it easier to pretend that they belong to a different species,
one that is more naturally and spontaneously connected to nature,
one that is rooted in some mythical primordial era of cosmic
harmony, than to face up to and combat masculine domination.
Something is amiss, of course, when men enjoy the full responsibility
for the task of defining what it is to be human, and thus ensure
that by definition women will always fall somewhat short of the
mark. The answer, though, is not to secede, but to demand representation.
New Age is an imagined, personal
secession. It is fantasy, though this is not in itself an indictment.
Theatre is fantasy too, and I have no interest in stamping it
out. But New Age is a sorry sort of fantasy, for it imagines
itself to be a form of resistance, but is only able to take hold
in history when true resistance proves too difficult to sustain.
But how, you may still be wondering,
did the date end up? I refused to reveal my sign, but she somehow
already knew my birthdate, and so revealed it for me. I am, she
told me, a Leo. Leos, she insisted, are always stubborn, self-assured,
and intolerant of people who see things differently than they
do. The entire harangue that ensued from my side of the table
about the emptiness, the wastefulness, the disgrace of astrology
only served for her as yet more confirmation of its accuracy!
Clearly, communication would prove impossible. The date ended
poorly. No surprise, she might be telling herself now. Leos and
Capricorns are a totally bad match.
Justin E. H. Smith teaches philosophy at Concordia University
in Montreal. He can be reached at: justismi@alcor.concordia.ca
Weekend
Edition Features for August 7 / 8, 2004
James Petras
The
Anatomy of "Terror Experts": Meet the Mandarins of
Abu Ghraib
Fred Gardner
Run
Ricky Run: Football, Pot and Pain
Justin Delacour
Anti-Chavez Pollsters Panic: Fix Numbers; Reinvent Venezuela
Brian Cloughley
Persecuted by All; Supported by None: Who Would Be A Kurd?
Joshua Frank
The
Outsider: a Talk with Ralph Nader
Iain A. Boal
On "Shame": Warmed-Over Orientalism and Racist Projection
Chris Floyd
All About Eve: Open Season on Women in DC and Rome
Andrew Fenton
Fighting for Democracy and Justice in Haiti
Aseem Shrivastava
Saga of an Anguished Afghan
Neil Corbett
See Cuba: Sometimes a Cigar is Just a Cigar, Mr. Bush
Carol Miller
/ Forrest Hill
Rigged Convention; Divided Party: How David Cobb Won with Only
12% of the Vote
Tarek Milleron
Breaking the Principled Voter
Donald Macintyre
The
Battle of Najaf
Ron Jacobs
Spirits of The Dead: Why I Love My Petty Bourgeois Tendencies
Mickey Z.
Kid
Gavilan's Grave: Propaganda Scores a TKO
Poets' Basement
Adler, Ford and Albert
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