MICHAEL O. ALLEN

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A tilt

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A friend of mine, Martin, sent me an e-mail with three pictures attached. I have not asked his permission to post this but this is the subject line of his e-mail: “Three pictures one of slang, the other of a little box, and the message from Obama to his people, apparently the world, not the armed forces”

Here’s his e-mail, which I took the liberty of chopping into paragraphs:

The first picture:dsc00059

Hi Guys!

I always interpreted the term “guys” instead of more respectful custom as the totalitarian modality of work and consumption of higher-based custom after Hitler took over Europe.

These are fast paced times, good to know that.

I have a hard time waking up in the morning if it wasn’t for my cat, Jasper.

I have no reverence for the activities I pursue on a day/to/day perspective but have little faith in anything other than god, the government is out of control and we are living here in the United States in a personal holocaust for the mentally ill, and if that includes for you Foucault’s jail population, then you are on par with me at the end of the links.

Someone has to save these people and they are dying.

The Second picture:
3435479873_8cda4b1589They took the sixties and they put them either to forced work by owning their materialist homes where they found vagrancy of comfort after the likes of Malcolm X, Huey Newton and Martin Luther King, Janis Joplin and John Lennon, JFK and all the others slaughtered for the right of passage to the end of the world.

I’m sick I have you know that each e-mail, but who is going to take care of the people in my family whom need help when they need it, like always, evermore. ???

I hope that sometimes when people think of me they will think of the concept of survivor, not akin at all to the retro-demand of Hitler from all corners and walks and likes of the Earth just to make yourself busy and survive for the Establishment to come stomping on the ground you walk on soon as you’re able to look down outside of your watch.

The third picture:
3357155172_f860250b81_oI never read the Harvard Classics, most of my education came from the school of hard knocks, but I do know this:

we’re doomed, unless someone or something can listen and learn and listen as they act, which takes a lot of tightrope wakling and a lot of zen buddhism while I’m only a buddhist I am not the zen variety that sort of practise is doomed unless you combine it with a healthy job which pays enough money to clean the sheets on the mattress once you “just go” and “let it be”.

We need more people to act as the great Sacha Baron Cohen and his message of love peace and tolerance as he smashes all the dim-witted ideologues to hell incarnate when they are so embarrassed as to lose their job at the catholic church due to embarrassment, after so much hatred.

I’m beginning to think not only a dog doesn’t learn new tricks also God doesn’t, spelled backwards or forwards, dog/god is out to get each and every last goddamn fascist in the book and I know from checking, or like the back of my hand that every person on this dang list of e-mails is a good person. Don’t worry.

A diplomat is a man who says you have an open mind, instead of telling you that you have a hole in the head — Unknown

MANDELA—BORN TO RULE

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers | Sunday, April 3, 1994

JOHANNESBURG—He carries himself like he was born to power—and he was, 75 years ago, in a hut at the bottom of the African continent.

His family ran the village; a cousin, with whom he lived while a teen, was chief of the surrounding region. Under a stand of eucalyptus trees that was the tribal courthouse, they prepared Nelson Mandela to follow in their footsteps.

“The genesis of my ideas is under these trees,” said the Old Man, as he is known among his followers, during a homecoming last month.

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DE KLERK—WHITE HOPE

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By MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writer | Sunday, April 3, 1994

The scenes are stunning: blacks lustily cheering apartheid scion Frederik Willem de Klerk as he campaigns for re-election to the presidency of South Africa.

The happy candidate obliges by donning Zulu tribal hats, carrying spears and cowhide shields.

“I’m white,” he told one black audience, “but my heart pumps the same red blood as the red blood in the heart of every South African.”

De Klerk, 58, was born into a staunchly political Afrikaner family in the Transvaal. As his great-grandfather and his father, he represented the province in parliament. So, the deeply religious father of three caught most people by surprise when he began dismantling apartheid.

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Authenticity

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The Fakers

The Fakers

John Edwards had the right message both times when he ran for the presidency. The problem was that he himself seemed fake. The harder he sold himself, the less I was willing to buy.

One of the things he sold hardest was this idea that he had a wholesome family. And when it turned that his loathsome wife was sick, they pushed that too as reason to vote for him for president. It turned out that the biggest betrayal of all and, perhaps, the reason Edwards appeared so fake, was that it was all a lie.

Edwards had left his wife in mind and spirit and could not wait for her to die so he could be with his true love.

John Edwards did not even think this transgression was enough to keep him from running for president. He showed in New Orleans with his fake jeans, fake pompadour, fake teeth, fake smile and asked that we make him president because only he cared about black people, only he cared about poor people, oh, The Two Americas, he prattled on.

And Elizabeth Edwards was a handmaiden to all this deception.

I don’t wish ill on anyone. But I want Elizabeth Edwards to shut up. I want John Edwards to shut up. Please don’t prosecute him for his deceptions and chicanery with campaign cash to hide his affair. I want all these people to crawl into a cave and never be heard from ever again.

UPDATE: Kathleen Parker makes the case against the Edwards more intelligently than I tried to above.

FEAR STALKS THE LAND_‘Whole country has gone mad’

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers, Wednesday | April 6, 1994

JOHANNESBURG—The looming national election has laid a new carpet of fear across this already traumatized and hyper-vigilant society.

With three weeks to go, gun stores and food stores are running out of weapons and non-perishable food, and many whites are bailing out—for the duration of the campaign and its uncertain aftermath, if not for good.

“The whole country has gone mad,” said the owner of a gun store in the seemingly non-violent suburb of Birnam, as he busied himself with customers unhappy to learn that his stock of weapons was practically depleted.

“All I’ve got left are some old M-1 rifles,” he said, as he showed an elderly white man how to load a shotgun the man had brought to the store. “The demand has outstripped my supply. It’s the same all over.”

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VISIT TO SOWETO_INSIDE THE NECKLACE Pointless deaths but real victims

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers, Wednesday | April 6, 1994

SOWETO—He was an unidentified man, a weekly newspaper reported, and lucky for him that the police and paramedics came along when they did.

He was walking past the Dube Hostel, a decrepit barracks-like encampment where the so-called Zulu royalists live, when a man from the hostel came up and shot him in the face as the day sank toward night.

“Bastards!” he screamed, through his fractured jaw.

But the shooter and some other Zulu royalists were not finished. They wrapped the man in plastic, put him in a cardboard box, doused the box with gasoline and set it afire.

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VISIT TO SOWETO_A tormented past, uncertain future Poverty, violence crowd out hopes

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By MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writer | Sunday, April 10, 1994

SOWETO—Seeing this famous black township brings to mind ruins of war, of battle just done.

On nighttime approach—home to the Zulu, Xhosa, Sotho, and Tswana tribes—the flames of random trash fires send millions of sparks into an eerie sky heavy with the stench of rotting animals.

This is Soweto—land of misery, despair, and heartbreak, of senseless deaths, crushing poverty, frightening crime and urban squalor.

Funeral parlor owners have the most lucrative business, the most beautiful homes and affluence that rival that of Johannesburg’s wealth white suburbs.

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Afrikaner Memorial gets new owners

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers | Wednesday, April 13, 1994

PRETORIA—The prospect of black majority rule has resulted in the privatization of this country’s most famous monument.

In a move akin to turning the Statute of Liberty over to the Manhattan Institute, the departing white minority government has transferred ownership of the Voortrekker Monument to a conservative citizens group.

The monument, a huge stone monolith atop a hill overlooking this capital city, celebrates the Afrikaners—whites of Dutch, German and French descent who “trekked” into the interior and defeated black Zulus 150 years ago.

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Blacks live in N.Y.—that’s no put on

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers | Monday, April 11, 1994

  • JOHANNESBURG—This is a time and a city for keeping a journal:

Yes, Princess, New York is in the U.S.A. and black people live there.

Most black South Africans have had little contact with American blacks, so little that Princess Mgwebi, a security officer at a hospital in the black township of Soweto, was astonished last week when a black reporter from New York introduced himself.

“I didn’t know there are black people in New York,” she said.

Told that indeed black people live in New York and all over the U.S., her jaw dropped. “New York is part of the United States?” she said, wrinkling the vertical facial scars that indicated she was of the Ndebele tribe.

“Yes, and many blacks live there.

“Well,” Mgwebi said, not entirely sure she was not being put on. “I know there are blacks in the United States because that is where Michael Jackson is from, and I know he is black.” Read More

The killing fields of Zululand

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By GENE MUSTAIN and MICHAEL O. ALLEN, Daily News Staff Writers | Sunday, April 17, 1994

DURBAN—Andy Cox wept for South Africa last week.

He cried when his frantic search through the lush green bush of Zululand came to its dreadful end, and he wept again when he faced the relatives of the missing men. Two days ago, the horror was still so close he could not describe what he saw without breaking down twice more.

“How can we ever have peace when people are this way?” he said. “This was so savage.”

The dead were poor young Zulus. They were day laborers for Cox, a young white businessman hired by the government to distribute non-partisan pamphlets about the upcoming election — which has created a figurative Mason-Dixon line of killing hate in KwaZulu, the Zulu homeland surrounding this seaside city.

Last Monday, they wandered over the wrong side of the line—into an area controlled by KwaZula’s chief minister, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, who sent mediator Henry Kissinger packing later in the week by demanding the impossible, the postponent of the nation’s first non-racial election.

Around noon, shortly after their driver telephoned Cox’s office and said they were thinking of leaving because the area seemed tense, the victims were kidnapped, tortured, shot, hacked and set afire. As different points along the frenzied bloodletting, the driver and two others managed to escape.

“I lay on the ground and pretended I was dead,” said one of the survivors, a teenager named Lucky Mkhwanazi. “Then I ran.”

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