Filed under: Tidak Dikategorikan
pukul 12 tepat. matahari memanggang ubun-ubun. tujuh orang sikerei* digiring ke muara.. rumah dan perlengakapan upacara mrk dibakar hangus… duapuluh orang lainnya, ditodong dengan senjata. karena cawat, tato dan mantra!
Filed under: Catatan Dari Jakarta, Media | Tag: Activism, Labor, May Day, Non profit
Jakarta May Day 08
On Thursday, May Day 2008, more than 10,000 people gathered around Jakarta to celebrate Labor Day and demand their rights.
Joined by more than 30 workers’ associations, NGOs and student groups. Marchers rallied for kilometers to the State Palace. Closing the road from traffic. More than 15,000 police officers were deployed to guard the rallies. Thousands more were on standby.
Filed under: Media
Guaicaipuro Cuautemoc
[A letter from an Indian chief to all European governments to repay the gold and silver they borrowed between 1503 and 1660.]
Here am I, Guaicaipuro Cuautemoc, who have come to discover those who are celebrating the discovery. Here am I, a descendant of those who colonized America 40,000 years ago, who have come to discover those who discovered it 500 years ago.
My European brother at his border asks me for a written document with a visa in order to discover those who discovered me. The European moneylender asks me to pay a debt contracted by Judas which I never authorized to be sold to me. The European pettifogger explains to me that all debts must be paid with interest, even if it means selling human beings and whole countries without their consent. I am gradually discovering them.
I also have payments to claim. I can also claim interest. The evidence is in the Archivo de Indias. Paper after paper, receipt after receipt, signature after signature show that between 1503 and 1600 alone, 185
thousand kilos of gold and 16 million kilos of silver were shipped into San Lucar de Barrameda from America.
Plunder? May Tanatzin have mercy on me for thinking that the Europeans, like Cain, kill and then deny their brother’s blood!
Genocide? That would mean giving credit to slanderers like Bartolome de las Casa who equated the discovery of the Indies with its destruction, or the extremists such as Dr. Arturo Pietri, who states that the outburst of capitalism and of the current European civilization was due to the flood of precious metals! No way! Those 185 thousand kilos of gold and 16 million kilos of silver must be considered as the first of several friendly loans granted by America for Europe’s development. The contrary would presuppose war crimes, which would mean not only demanding immediate return, but also compensation for damages. I prefer to believe in the least offensive hypothesis. Such fabulous capital
exports were nothing short of the beginning of a Marshalltezuma Plan to guarantee the reconstruction of a barbarian Europe, ruined by deplorable wars against the Muslim foe. For this reason, as we approach the Fifth Centennial of the Loan, we must ask ourselves:
What have our European brothers done in a rational, responsible or at least productive way with the resources so generously advanced by the International Indoamerican Fund?
The answer is: unfortunately nothing. Strategically, they squandered it on battles such a Lepanto, invincible armies, Third Reichs and other forms of mutual extermination, only to end up being occupied by the Yankee troops of NATO, like Panama (but without a canal).
Financially, they were incapable – even after a moratorium of 500 years – of either paying back capital with interest or of becoming independent from net returns, raw materials and cheap material and cheap energy that they import from the Third World.
This disgusting picture corroborates Milton Friedman’s assertion that a subsidized economy can never function properly, and compels us to claim – for their own good – the repayment of capital and interest which we have so generously delayed all these centuries.
Stating this, we want to make clear that we will refrain from charging our European brothers the despicable and bloodthirsty floating rates of 20 or even 30 percent that they charge to Third World countries. We shall only demand the devolution of all precious metals advanced, plus a modest fixed annum accumulated over 300 years. On this basis, and applying the European formula of compound interest, we inform our discoverers that they only owe us, as a first payment against the debt, a mass of 185,000 kilos of gold and 16 million kilos of silver, both raised to the power of 300. This equals a figure that would need over 300 digits to put on paper and whose weight fully exceeds that of the planet Earth.
What huge piles of gold and silver! How much would they weigh when calculated in blood? To say that in half a millennium Europe has not been able to produce sufficient wealth to pay back this modest interest is as much as admitting to the total financial failure of capitalism.
The pessimists of the Old World state that their civilization is already so bankrupt that they cannot fulfill their financial or moral commitments. If this is the case, we shall be happy if they pay us with
the bullet that killed the poet. But that is not possible, because that bullet is the very heart of Europe.
Revista, Renancer Indianista, No7.
Mónica de la Torre
In the words of Raymond Queneau, Oulipo’s co-founder, Oulipians are “Rats who build the labyrinth from which they will try to escape.” Even if you’ve never heard of Oulipo, if you’ve written something beside e-mails, then you probably know what this metaphor means. You have an idea in your head, you start putting it down on the page, and as you go along you realize that it simply keeps getting muddier, to the point that you forget what you thought you wanted to say in the first place. Every word that you jot down brings to mind an onslaught of other words and ideas that lead you further and further away from your original intention. If you allow yourself to go wherever these associations take you, then you are practicing what the Surrealists referred to as “automatic writing”. If you think that you’d be cheating by considering the results as a poem, for instance, because the writing wasn’t thought out or transformative enough, then you’d be closer to the spirit of the Oulipo.
The connection between the two literary movements is not arbitrary; Queneau had been a Surrealist but defected from its ranks in the 1930s after a riff with André Breton. The motto of the movement he founded with mathematician Francois Le Lionnais in Paris in 1960—which would eventually be called the Ouvrior de Littérature Potentielle (hence the acronym OuLiPo)—was “the only literature is voluntary writing.” They were responding to the limitations of what they considered “eructative” or “shriek” writing, which, in their opinion, lacked literary merit, and of “experimental” writing that was conducted without scientific rigor.
The concerns of the original members of the Oulipo were, at least, two-fold: on the one hand they wanted to write literature that could not be easily consumed and disposed of, literature that was always in the making. The paramount example of this type of text is Queneau’s Cent Mille Milliards de poèmes, which contains ten sonnets whose lines can be detached and permutated in one hundred thousand billion ways (10 to the 14th power). Astoundingly, Queneau ensured that no possible combination of lines would break the rhyme scheme and that any given resulting sonnet would be grammatically correct. He estimated that no single person would be able to read all the potentially possible sonnets and even devised a reading machine that would facilitate one’s handling of the piece.
Oulipians also wanted to devise a system to guarantee that writers would not run out of innovative formal possibilities. As Queneau wrote in the 1963 essay “Potential Literature,” their objective was, “To propose new ‘structures’ to writers, mathematical in nature, or to invent new artificial or mechanical procedures that will contribute to literary activity: props for inspiration as it were, or rather, in a way, aids for creativity.” The more popular procedures involve following numerical, alphabetical, graphic, and prosodic constraints, which can always be combined and recombined to generate an infinite array of new forms. Thanks to the Oulipo, poets with writers’ block can explore lipograms, perverbs, antonymic translations, homophonic translations, spoonerisms, centos, heterograms, pangrams, and a myriad of other forms instead of agonizing over the blank page. They can even treat preexisting texts by subjecting them to operations, such as the ubiquitous N+7, which consists of replacing each noun in a text with the seventh following it in a given dictionary.
If it’s true that a lot of these procedures were not coined by Oulipians and some even hark back to Antiquity, the Oulipo must be given credit for rescuing them from literary oblivion and adding more forms to the tradition. A book like the Oulipo Compendium, published in 1998, has made language play seem accessible to anyone willing to try their hand at the different forms and procedures it features, or at inventing new ones. Predictably, this rather hands-on approach to writing is exactly what many writers dislike about the Oulipo. In this age of MFAs, Oulipians could seem like the “anticipatory plagiarists”—their term for forerunners—of creative writing exercises that tend to generate monotonous work with a limited post-workshop lifespan. Yet other more esoteric approaches to writing might have equal, if not worse, fates.
Where can poetry go when the language of emotions has been taken over by the media and the corporate world, and a catchy phrase like “Your life is waiting” can appear on a TV commercial for antidepressants? Whatever its detractors might think, the Oulipo’s radical formalism has promoted literature with quite a few much-needed qualities: first off, its constraints tend to keep psychobabble out of the picture. It tends to be humorous and less concerned with what is said than with how it is said. Besides, its composition raises relevant questions about formal issues, literary conventions, and the value of artifice. Is there anything intrinsically meaningful about, say, the sonnet? As with any other artificial literary structure, the sonnet was merely one among many until the form’s endurance and popularity invested it with its current aura. A different approach to the writing process and a search for fresh forms that might have more resonance for us today can only enrich the current landscape, as two of the best poetry books in recent years already have, using Oulipian constraints: Sleeping with the Dictionary, by Harryette Mullen, and Christian Bök’s Eunoia (the title is the shortest word in English to contain all five vowels and means “beautiful thinking”).
To this reader, the best works of art result from the happy marriage between the will towards form and that other elusive component, call it the intangible, the ecstatic, depth, or meaning itself. Blame it on my Catholic upbringing or on a Baroque sensibility: the more difficult the task, the better it feels to achieve it. Or put differently, the more intricate the labyrinth, the happier the rat who escapes from it.
Note: You can read François Le Lionnais First and Second Manifesto, as well as other key essays by Oulipians including Raymond Queneau and Georges Perec, in Oulipo: A Primer of Potential Literature, translated and edited by Warren F. Motte (Dalkey Archive Press, 1998). The most complete handbook on Oulipian forms and procedures in English is the Oulipo Compendium, compiled by Harry Mathews and Alistair Brotchie (Atlas Press, 1998).
Filed under: Poezia & Arte
Mónica de la Torre
Not to search for meaning, but to reedify a gesture, an intent.
As a translator, one grows attached to originals. Seldom are choices
so purposeful.
At midday, the translator meets with the poet at a café at the intersection
where for decades whores and cross-dressers have lined up at
night for passers-by to peruse.
Not a monologue, but an implied conversation. The translator’s
response is delayed.
The translator asks, the poet answers unrestrictedly. Someone
watches the hand movements that punctuate the flow of an
incomprehensible dialogue.
They’re speaking about the poet’s disillusionment with Freud.
One after another, vivid descriptions of the poet’s dreams begin to
pour out of his mouth. There’s no signal of irony in his voice.
Nor a hint of astonishment, nor a suggestion of hidden meanings,
rather a belief in the detritus theory.
“Se me aparece un gato fosforescente. Lo sostengo en mis brazos
sabiendo que no volveré a ser el mismo.”
“Estoy en una fiesta. De pronto veo que el diablo está sentado frente
a mí. Viste de negro, lleva una barba puntiaguda y un tridente en
la mano izquierda. Es tan amable que nadie se da cuenta de que
no es un invitado como los otros.”
“Anuncian en el radio que Octavio Paz leerá su poema más reciente:
‘Vaca . . . vaca . . . vaca . . . vaca . . . vaca . . . vaca . . . vaca . . .'”
“Entro a un laboratorio y percibo aromas inusitados. Aún los recuerdo.”
The translator knows that nothing the poet has ever said or written
reveals as much about him as the expression on his face when he
was asked to pose for a picture. He greets posterity with a devilish
grin. To the translator’s delight, he’s forced to repeat the gesture at
least three or four times. The camera has no film.
Gil Scott-Heron
You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o’clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver’s seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
FUN DA MENTAL
Gentlemen for far too long something has been going on
Under our very noses
A storm is brewing but not many know this
But know this- we must awake from the slumber before our great nations goes under thru the sheer weight of numbers
THEY DON’T KNOW DON’T YOU KNOW THE ROAD BACK HOME HAS COME- girl vox
We must recognise and realise we are not here to practise but preserve democracy
This is our philopsy –
we must maintain this status in order by ordering the solution as prescribed by evolution
I know well that fear has reigned in many a tongue and restrained many a son but now the time has come
We must unify the sum of our efforts and diversify our approaches until our efforts achieve their run
This great work has already begun-
incited by the farsighted forefathers initiated in the art of might is more harder and effective when a people demand it itself and keep chasing the wealth, chaving its health
Now its your duty to clock the hard sell –lock ‘em if you have to -no-one will tell –send them to our friends across waters
Utilise already established court orders that apply across boarders
They have served their purpose and at present are not in a position to hurt us
Furthermore
we have a precedent set in the declaration of Balfour
And have millions in store at our beckoned call
We can never fail We can never fail We can never fail
We will forever prevail
THEY DON’T KNOW DON’T YOU KNOW THE ROAD BACK HOME HAS COME
AM TIRED OF THE SIGHT OF YOU – EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR
YOU SICK AND WEAK AND FICKLE YOUR IDEAL IS
CAN’NT FOOL ME WITH YOUR LIES AND IDEALS
YOUR PAPER THIN – YOUR MADE OF SIN
FUN DA MENTAL
On the day of Vaisakhi, Udham Singh made this solemn prayer,
‘Oh my Guru, May I take revenge on those who murdered my people at Jallianwalla Bagh. I ask for your blessings in this task.
After 20 long years, the hero Udham Singh tracked down the main culprit, Sir Michael O’ Dwyer and exacted his revenge in the home country of his oppressor.
The evil regime was knocked into place by his back handed stroke.
In the house of freedom fighting revolutionaries, was the warrior Bhagat Singh born.
As a child, he vowed to free his country by planting weapons in the fields, in order to arm his people.
It is rare to find a hero such as Bhagat Singh, who laughs in the face of his oppressor at the moment of death.
After shaking the throne of oppression with bombs, he gave his final sacrifice.
The evil regime was knocked into place by his backhanded stroke.
After the massacre at Nankana Sahib, the Sikhs realised that their plight could only be saved by militant action.
The Babbar Akali movement was created to punish the corrupt police, who were just puppets of the evil regime.
The British Government cried out in helplessness at the might of this small but influential group.
Before giving their lives, the Sikh soldiers taught their enemies a lesson that they would never forget.
The evil regime was knocked into place by a backhanded stroke.
The hero of Mysore, Tipu Sultan, swore that he would not spare the British invaders.
‘I will face them in battle and die, sword in hand. Come forward if there is a single brave amongst you’, he shouted.
After defeating the British four times in battle, they finally killed him through deception.
The evil regime was knocked into place by his back handed stroke.
Filed under: Media
Media Release by DEPIM FRETILIN
6.02.2007
Former Timor–Leste (East Timor) prime minister Mari Alkatiri, cleared of accusations he was involved in arming a hit squad to kill political opponents, today called on the country’s leaders to publicly acknowledge their error in forcing his resignation last year.
Dr Alkatiri said president Xanana Gusmao and prime minister Jose Ramos-Horta should ‘have the moral strength to admit they erred’ when they used false allegations to demand his resignation last June.
‘I do not want to have to use the law and judicial system to restore, in its totality my name and image,’ he added.
Dr Alkatiri, who remains secretary general of Fretilin and a member of parliament, also foreshadowed possible legal action against media outlets in Australia which broadcast false, untested and defamatory allegations against him.
‘This now paves the way for me to seek legal redress for the injustice done to me and my family by the politically motivated smear campaign instigated against my good name and character in Timor Leste, Australia and elsewhere,’ he said.
‘False allegations aired with extreme political bias and utmost ill will, have been found to be baseless when subjected to judicial scrutiny.’
Timor–Leste’s Prosecutor-General confirmed last night that his office had dropped an investigation into the allegations because of a lack of evidence, effectively clearing Dr Alkatiri of any wrongdoing.
A United Nations investigation last year also found no evidence to support the allegations but recommended they be further investigated by the prosecutor general’s office.
Dr Alkatiri pointed out he had willingly submitted himself to both the UN and Prosecutor-General’s investigations, unlike anti-Fretilin identities named by the UN investigators as suspected of being involved in criminal activity including murder.
Filed under: Media
Media Release by DEPIM FRETILIN
5.02.2007
Former Prime Minister of Timor-Leste and Secretary
General of FRETILIN, Dr. Mari Alkatiri was today
notified by the Office of the Prosecutor General of
Timor-Leste that the investigation against him was
closed and that no further action would be taken for
want of evidence of any criminal conduct ON the part
of Dr. Alkatiri arising out the allegations made of
his alleged involvement in the arming of civilians.
The Prosecutor Generals Office concluded from the
investigations that there was no evidence that Dr.
Alkatiri either had any knowledge or participated in
anyway in the alleged distribution of arms to
civilians to warrant any criminal prosecution to be
brought against Dr. Alkatiri.
“I have maintained my innocence with respect to any
knowledge or participation in the matters alleged from
the outset. My family and my supporters vehemently
maintained my innocence in this regard. Anyone who
knows me knows it would have been against my personal
values and my character to be involvement with any
such practices. I, my family and my supporters have
never doubted that the truth would prevail and that I
would be vindicated,” said Dr. Alkatiri.
“I have committed my life to the struggle for justice
by our people. I have been a strident promoter of
truth and justice in our people’s cause, and have
maintained that truth and justice would prevail during
this investigation against me and that I would be
cleared. I submitted myself to the justice system,
unlike some who have been actors in the crisis in our
country of last year, because I believe in a state
based on the rule of law and justice. False
allegations aired with extreme political bias and
utmost ill will has been found to be baseless when
subject to judicial scrutiny,” said Dr. Alkatiri.
“This now paves the way for me to seek legal redress
for the injustice done to me and my family by the
politically motivated smear campaign instigated
against my good name and character in Timor-Leste,
Australia and elsewhere,” said Dr. Alkatiri.
Dr. Alkatiri continues to be the Secretary General of
Timor-Leste largest elected party and has returned to
parliament where he will continue to play a role in
the re-election of his parliamentary party.
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