Excellent writing Douglas!!! What is the name of the book that you are
Stay Tuned For...
From: Douglas Kelley <email@example.com Reply-To: firstname.lastname@example.org
Subject: The Great Great Grand Dada of Art Video DKS
Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2006 15:03:28 -0400
Welcome to the Dada's Kelley Show List http://dks.thing.net/
There two important things opening this week I'm very excited about.
Both augment each other beautifully .
One is tonight's HANS RICHTER (1888-1976) Dada: Art and Anti-Art, an
exhibition of rarely-seen works provides an especially comprehensive
overview of Richter's artistic career with it four discernible periods:
early artworks created before 1916, works from the height of the
1916-1919 Dada era, art produced from the 1920s through the 1960s, and
late works of the 1960s to the 1970s at the Maya Stendhal Gallery, 545
West 20th Street, 6-9 pm, a show that is, to my mind, a perfect follow
up to the Gallery's recent incredibly successful show about Fluxus: To
George With Love, From the Personal Collection of Jonas Mekas, about
Fluxus founder George Maciunas (1931-78), and the other is the Museum
of Modern Art's big Dada show that is coming here from the Pompidou in
Paris via its exclusive all star engagement at the National Gallery of
Art in Washington DC, more about that in a minute.
Both shows seemed to address things I am interested in such as what
happens to left and liberal artistic orientations when faith in
progress is broken, when both the sovereign individual and
collaborative community seem broken, tenuous, when desire seems as
likely to seek revenge as freedom and autonomy, when all artistic
conviction is revealed as contingent and subjective, but the world is
revealed as only Hollywood objective reality?
The critical question that animates both of these shows is how do we
navigate any contemporary artistic landscape when the traditional sign
posts of late modernity (lamo) have been stolen by vandals and used to
decorate their college dorm rooms?
Futurism to Dada to Fluxus all diagnosed a range of contemporary
artistic tendencies-- from moralistic high-handedness with overt
fascist tendencies to low-lying artistic despair, suicide, minus the
rebirth part, while examining the difficulty of formulating artistic
alternatives to reproaches against theory in intellectual life-- as the
consequence of this disorientation. This certainly is probably asking
way too much but I hope both will present compelling, provocative
arguments in favor of a new approach to thinking about continuance of
civilization-- one that forsakes the idea that Art history has any
legit purpose and treats it instead as a way of illuminating openings
in the present by, for example, identifying the haunting and
constraining beliefs that necessitate generational revitalization of
the relationship between intellectual and artistic life, or even art
and life, or even life, or art...? Blah, blah, blah, etc., etc.
The most obvious difference between these two shows are, one is in a
museum and you'd probably have to wait in line an hour for tickets and
another half hour to get in and it officially opens on Sunday, even
though there are member previews this week, and two, the Richter one's
in a Gallery, it's free and it opens tonight. Both have incredible
history and lineage but what's at the Museum is not for sale, while at
the Gallery at least you can eat your heart out and dream about buying
the whole thing.
The MoMA Dada SHow
I wasn't paying attention and I missed the press preview which was
Tuesday but the poignant descriptions I've read of Dada's crippled,
broken depiction of war veterans made me think of the Depression-era
classic Remember My Forgotten Man (Lyrics: Al Dubin; Music: Harry
Warren) (1933) As it was featured featured as the grand finale of
Mervin Le Roy's "Gold Diggers of 1933", as delivered by Joan Blondell
in her own inimitable popular Sprechstimme style, her narrative seems
to be making a direct address to government to remind them of the
social sacrifices of war.
"I don't know if he deserves a bit of sympathy, Forget your sympathy,
that's all right with me. I was satisfied to drift along from day to
day, Till they came and took my man away.
Remember my forgotten man, You put a rifle in his hand; You sent him
far away, You shouted, "Hip, hooray!" But look at him today!
Remember my forgotten man, You had him cultivate the land; He walked
behind the plow, The sweat fell from his brow, But look at him right
And once, he used to love me, I was happy then; He used to take care of
me, Won't you bring him back again? 'Cause ever since the world began,
A woman's got to have a man; Forgetting him, you see, Means you're
forgetting me Like my forgotten man.
Europeans in 1919 were already experiencing the intense social
alienation that Americans didn't catch up to until the depths of the
For the Europeans who lived it the Great War was anything but. While
America lost about 125,000, the European participants basically lost
900-1000 troops every single week for the four year duration. And the
veterans who survived were unceremoniously dumped back on society's
doorstep ruined for life, ruined for their families, mostly broken
The gross and colossal brutality and hitherto unknown and inconceivable
atrocity of mechanized trench warfare had to be a terrible shock to the
commonly accepted middle class tenets of civilization, that I assume
still demanded a high degree of romance with respect to soldiery, valor
and heroism. But when the refugee columns of zombie-fied Veterans
started returning cruelly dismembered, disfigured, and mentally vacant
from poison gas and shell shock it might have seen as if the whole
concept of Western civilization as evinced by European industrialized
society might have been an elaborate hoax by social leaders and
institutions which here to for so often spoke softly of such lofty and
principled sentiments when it was revealed that, when push came to
shove, to repulse a Serbian claim to independence demanded mass murder
and national calamity and then called it a necessity to preserve order.
Excuse me? But am I missing something? My feeling is Dada didn't
assault Art, mankind assaulted civilization, and some artists correctly
responded by attacking some of the traditions of Art as somehow in
support of a social power structure that championed the continued
explorations of the theoretical maximum depths mankind was willing to
spelunk in search of its true inhumanity. Yes, there was anger and,
yes, there with humor, but a lot of what needed to be let out during,
and after the war, was just flat out sickened repulsion. As Daffy Duck
used to say, "Despicable, isn't it?"
But for whatever reasons, I've always liked the modernized medieval
grotesques of George Grosz. Even when they're relaxing and having a
good time many of his collections of individuals look look like they
were just hit by a rail road car sized mortar shell, their scattered
images exploded like bomb shards all over the place, so German, but
also a little like Italian futurism, in terms of trying to evoke the
all encompassing spirit of an subject, object or event by showing it in
time and motion and space with simultaneity, omniscience and speed.
Continuing its brilliant new program of packaging Museum worthy concept
shows uniquely related to my own peculiar interests in collaborative,
revolutionary art movements of the 20th Century, the Stendhal Gallery
has got its mitts on an unusually rich cache of Richter's work covering
Hans Richter was the Andy Warhol of his day, a painter, director, film
maker, a performance artist, graphic artist, sculptor, editor,
publisher, writer, and critical theorist, and considering how pleasant
his comments about his colleagues were in his 1966 book Dada: Art and
Anti-Art (World of Art), a skilled diplomat and a world class Statesman
I've been reading his book all week and loving it. It's best in the
beginning, discussing the birth of Dada and the influence of their
night club, the Cabaret Voltaire, and how the First World War helped
amplify Dada's influence, and it also helps if you're an artist reading
his writing because you need to visualize a lot of he says. He seems to
have a very terrific memory and an extremely good ear for quotes, the
detailed beginning of the Zurich faction is extremely interesting.
The other book I have to wet my Dada appetite is the very fine
catalogue for the both the National Gallery of Art in Washington and
The New York Museum of Modern Art Dada shows, that rather than dividing
the movement along the lines of key individuals, art forms, materials
or stylistic tendencies, rather instead, (perhaps to honor the
distinguished theories about the functions of cities in the
dissemination of ideas and culture of the late, recently departed Jane
Jacobs) examines Dada through the contributions and relationships
between the key cities that exemplified the movement, Zurich, Berlin,
Cologne, Hannover, New York, and Paris.
Well, either that, or they decided that they would have a hell of a
concept for a major exhibit if they just totally ripped off the table
contents of the Hans Richter Dada book in which the first main six
chapters are Zurich Dada, New York Dada, Berlin Dada, Hannover Dada,
Cologne Dada, and Paris Dada.
Personally, I would have led off with New York Dada first. It's amazing
to me that one of the biggest breakthrough phenomenon of the 20th
Century had such an American twist. Even though it was because most of
New York's leading practitioners were only slumming it here during the
Great War, sightseeing, and trying to use Manhattan to pursue their
personal romantic Casablanca fantasies, while they conveniently
avoiding the scorge of active-duty through a lengthy busman's holiday
in the U.S. of A.
Born to a Jewish family in Berlin, Johannes Siegfried Richter wanted to
be a painter, however his well-to-do father wanted an architect son and
began young Johannes Siegfried's artistic training with the year as a
carpenter's apprentice. But from 1908 and 1911 Richter studied art at
the Academy of Art in Berlin, the Academy of Art in Weimar, and for a
brief period at the Academie Julian in Paris. In 1913 he had joined the
mainstream of the expressionist circles of the avant-garde, meeting
artists associated with Herwarth Walden's Sturm Gallery in Berlin, and
the radical expressionists who formed the Brucke in Dresden and the
Blaue Reiter in Munich. In 1914 he became part of Die Aktion, an
association of expressionist artists and writers gathered around Franz
Pfemfert's journal of the same name, who shared socialist and antiwar
sympathies. In his graphic work for Die Aktion, which consisted of
woodcuts, linocuts, and drawings, Richter began to make a decisive
break with representational art and established in the context of Die
Aktion between abstraction and engaged politics would be present
throughout Richter's life and work.
With war was declared in September 1914 Richter was inducted into the
army, where with friends, Ferdinand Hardekopf and Albert Ehrenstein,
they made a fateful pact-- if they survived they were to meet two years
hence at the Cafe de la terrasse in delightfully peaceful, secure
sensible, neutral, and free from strife Zurich, Switzerland, far, far
from the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, and the blood
and the guts and the "veins in my teeth" hardcore realities of the
European front lines.
So as fate would have it, a short time later, while serving in a light
artillery unit in Vilnius, Lithuania, poor Hans was severely wounded,
partially paralyzed, and sent to recuperate at a Berlin military
hospital and in March was thankfully removed from active duty. After
some hasty August nuptials, he and the Frau were sent off to seek some
Swiss specialists to consult about his war wounds, and there, on
September 15th 1916, as fate would also have it, he just happened to
drop by the very Cafe de la terrasse in question, where guess who were
waiting? None other than his two beloved and not so long lost art
school chums, who quickly introduced the young Richter all around to
other Dada homies sitting nearby; Tristan Tzara, Marcel Janco, and
Marcel's brother Georges. Pretty soon, no latter than two shakes of a
rabbit's tale, Richter was immersed up to the eyeballs in Dada Events,
Exhibitions, and Publications, and showing his paintings with the
Dadaists for the first time at the Galerie Corray.
In 1917 he was churning out is a radical new visionary portrait
paintings at the rate of about four day that were so abstract you
needed to hire a psychic to consult the price list to just tell who was
In order to get his desired effects, and to properly escape from the
limitations of the visible world, he deliberately painted these
portraits at twilight in trancelike states, sometimes in complete
darkness, under a blanket without even as much as a candle or
flashlight, so that his pictures, "took shape before the inner rather
than the outer eye," in order to transcend the stagnant, empirical
exposition of the knowable in favor of the romantic ideal of the truly
cosmicly unattainable and universally unknowable.
In the Dada drenched atmosphere of 1917 Zurich, believe it or not, you
could set up shop as a automatic painter of Abstract Portraiture, hang
out your Dada shingle, and get customers.
In spring of 1918 that rakish Romanian raconteur and Dada manifesto
writer (Supreme Team King) Tristan Tzara introduced Richter to Viking
Eggeling, a young Swedish painter who'd developed a systematic theory
of abstract art and Richter, who had been experimenting in his Dada
heads with opposing fields of black and white, positive and negative,
found in his new friend of Viking a fellow traveler on the highways and
byways of theoretical abstraction. In 1920 they coauthored "Universelle
Sprache" (Universal Language), a text defining abstract art as a
language based on the polar relationships of elementary forms derived
from the laws of human perception, a kind of visual abstraction
equivalent to Esperanto. For Richter, the central tenet of this text
was that such an abstract language would be "beyond all national
language frontiers." He imagined abstraction could be a new kind of
communication that would be free from the kinds of nationalistic
alliances that led to World War I.
(Ninety years later they have a common language, I think it's called
In order to devote themselves fully to the development of
thedevelopment of their theories of the universal language of forms,
Rhythmus 21 and Rhythmus 23, introduced the element of time into the
abstract work of art, and culminated with Richter and Eggeling
sojourning back to Germany to cloister themselves and set up shop in a
Richter family residence where together they produced an entirely new
form of art work the Abstract Film, and this is one reason I think of
him as The Great Great Grand Dada of Art Video.
Knowing When It's Time To Go
Subversion is often in the eye of the beholder, particularly as
expressed by the subject's own host country's censorship policy and
Richter's now classics of art cinema, often merrily showing shapes and
objects moving and interacting in the vortexes of time/space, set to
musical scores came to the attention of suspicious authorities early on.
For his 1927 masterpiece, Vormittagsspuk (Ghosts before Breakfast), he
developed a delightfully whimsical, but thoroughly Abstract Busby
Berkeley-esque flying hat dance routine to illustrate ever so gently
his main Dada ideas, conerning German symbols behaving badly, by
showing everyday objects, by means of invisible fishing line, flying
about obstinately rebelling against their dutiful Deutsch owners: derby
hats, potent symbols of bourgeois propriety and stability, take on
lives of their own, parodying their inept masters, and this sweet
little Art film, that almost no one would look upon as subversive today
was immediately understood in 1927 as a political threat, and
subversive to the German social order, and was censored accordingly.
So Ritcher got the chance to see clearly what the writing on the wall
was going to be, as far too few Germans got to in those days, and as a
German Jewish contemporary artist politically opposed to the way things
were going in the long run-up to World War II, understood when it was
time to get out, eventually emigrating to New York where he got a job
at the Film Institute of the City College of New York, where he founded
the very first artist film program in United States, which is another
reason why I call him the Great Great Grand Dada Of Video. Retiring
from teaching in 1962 he returned to Switzerland however visiting often
MoMA's Dada And Our War
One of the problems for Dada I have felt was that even though it wasn't
so nihilistic to the point that it sought not to examine and consider
the ethical dilemmas of World War I, despite Marcel Duchamp said in
1915, shortly after his arrival in New York. "From a psychological
standpoint I find the spectacle of war very impressive, the instinct
which sends men marching out to cut down other men is an instinct
worthy of careful scrutiny. What an absurd thing such a conception of
patriotism is!... Personally I must say I admire the attitude of
combating invasion with folded arms." That very sub text seemed to lose
stature with the unspeakable atrocities of World War II?
Still it's very hard to imagine how such an incredibly honest and
intelligent well-educated industrious cultivated and civilized people
got suckered into being brung so low by War in the 20th Century? Who,
in the last century, had the smartest scientists and engineers, and
doctors and philosophers, and led the way as often in art as in
commerce, and always in world-class research?
Perhaps they should have listened to their little Artist friends a
little bit more carefully; those highly educated, generally law
abiding, sophisticated international individuals who, for all their
outrageous behavior, chaotic imagery, wild costumes, cacophonous
language, and inspired adolescent attempts at humorous sound play, were
generally committed to Dada because it held at its core a serious
ethical stance against the inequities of some contemporary social and
political conditions. Its assaultive strategies, manifestoes and media
pranks, and exploitation of media as a nontraditional art material, and
attacks on art history, and challenges to the destruction of meaning in
language and justice, as well as their commitment to the exploration of
the unconscious, the exultation of the human spirit and their radical
devotion to the examination of their own states of mind were all forms
of peaceful protest that sought to challenge or counter act the
mindless aggressive tactics and brutality witnessed in World War I.
May be if Europeans had listened, really listened to their little Dada
bretherin in the early 1920's, the German child born in 1945 would of
inherited more than a pile of stinking, smoldering rubble, only good
for use as an aggregate in the cold hard austere concrete construction
of postwar/cold war Germany. But seriously folks, there was one very
very small, but notable upside to all of this, unlike Germany after
World War I (or perhaps the children of this country after this World
War on Terror is done), that baby was thankfully born debt-free because
all German institutions; social, financial, legal, ethical and moral
been completely obliterated. Our future children are gonna be paying
our bills for a long long time unless we choose to honor the advice of
some of our artists and get a grip on our environmentally exploitive,
scorched earth, planet killing, corporatist money grubbing beef eating
class warring elitist pigish evil Imperial ways.
Did I provoke you?
I hope New Yorkers will remain open minded enough consider our own
knuckle-headed Homeland predicaments as they saunter through the big
MoMA Dada show? Dada Curator Leah Dickerman observes: "Dada was a
profound, ethical response to historical circumstances, it was a very
calculated form of nonsense - protests against a civilization they
thought had failed them."
Dada was the quintessential first late modernist experiment to identify
many of the 20th century's artistic and stylistic reactions to the
onslaught of industrialization of modern life. And so completely on
target with its spooky foreshadowing of late modern (la-mo) style that
it is so often characterized by eclecticism, digression, collage,
pastiche, irony, even bitterness and disdain, but somehow retaining
within its self a self-consciousness a faint notion, with just a hint
of, or within the frame of reference of, idealism.
It will be good to see Marcel Duchamp's The Bride Stripped Bare by her
Bachelors, again. The last time I saw her she was hanging out in some
dimly lit Museum in Philadelphia propositioning young art students like
myself. Excuse me if this makes no sense...
In my lifetime mostly Dada got no respect. It was absurdist, which
meant in this country- anarchistic, which meant terrorist, and it was
anti-statis, which possibly meant anti-capitalist and certainly pro
socialist even pro Communist, which used to mean worse than terrorist,
in that it also was also uniquely German, sarcastic, rebellious and
possibly extremely decadent, which meant to many Americans Dadaists
might also likey be Nazi pervert motorcycle gang bangers. So it was a
period of "European" Art History that I was never taught, and if ever
mentioned, usually darkly associated with the destruction of art and
the end aesthetic values and in hushed tones and passed over extremely
quickly. A reviewer from the American Art News once stated that "The
Dada philosophy is the sickest, most paralyzing and most destructive
thing that has ever originated from the brain of man."
I understand the MoMA exhibition shows that Dada was in fact by and
large a positive and highly productive movement where you get a taste
of the exhilarating freedom many artists experienced back in the day
when when their minds were originally blown by the positive potential
of the 20th Century and realized that despite however messed up things
had become, suddenly anything seemed possible.... certainly
conceivable, possibly actionable, and in time, executable.
What I so liked about Dada is that here you have a crucial
revolutionary chapter of "the historical avant-garde" with solid New
York quotient. According to Tristan Tzara, "God and my toothbrush are
Dada, and New Yorkers can be Dada too, if they are not already." We are
my man, we are.
The spirit of New York Dada perhaps was most beautifully exemplified by
that serial cross dresser, the French-born self-styled "an-artist"
(neither an artist nor an anti-artist, as he used to say) Marcel
Duchamp's transformation into Rrose Selavy, boldly escaping from the
claustrophobic gender and social pecking order of a monarchy dominated
Europe, once safely ensconced here in the borough of freedom-
Manhattan, he decided to take a walk on wild side and became a woman to
shock and provoke Art.
Duchamp, who first found fame with "Nude Descending a Staircase" his
own particularly French take on Italian futurism and time in space at
the 1913 New York Armory Show, first asserted his inalienable rights of
free expression and individual power and personal choice, like so many
after him, by transforming himself into who he felt he was, an old
French whore with a come-hither heart of gold.
If Dada were all about losing the stuffy pretensions and crippling
dislocation of the unity of art and life of the 19th century, this is
where he lost his, New York was the place where Dada beget its
anything-is-art if you accept it mantra.
Of his most well-known artistic provocations, "Fountain," the hardware
store purchased men's urinal he unsuccessfully tried to show as a
readymade at the 1917 exhibition of the New York Society of Independent
Artists, I always thought had a very literal meaning, strongly redolent
of similar contemporary opinions on life, Art, and personalities often
expressed by Triumph, The Insult Comic Dog, "As a New Yorker and no
longer a Parisian refugee, I regret to inform you that I piss on your
European traditional art values, they bore me." I kid, I kid!
Soon after arriving from France, Marcel Duchamp and Francis Picabia met
American artist Man Ray all arriving only days apart in June of 1915.
By 1916 this ultimate poawer trio became the center of radical anti-art
activities in the United States. American Beatrice Wood, who had been
studying in France, soon joined them. (More on this incredible
character who died in 2000 at the age of 104, who served as the
inspiration for James Cameron character "Rose" in his epic remake
production of "Titanic", giving it an extremely obscure Dada reference
Hello I Must Be Going
As an artistic survivalist, I like to think that I would have beat it
out of Europe faster than Speedy Gonzalez at the first rumor of whiffs
of mustard gas or faint rumblings of long-range artillery.
For me to the term "over the top" is a stylistic compliment that I like
to hear quite often and nothing I'd ever want to hear in a bloody
trench, shouted by a French sergeant against the incessant relentless
clack clack clack of Prussian machine fire. As Woody Allen said in Love
and Death, "What do you mean sent to the Russian front, I can't even
shower with other man?"
I'm a little bit perturbed that my initial clever preconceived attitude
that Dada was the perfect Modern Art movement to revisit and
contemplate in the present because our the present imperial
militaristic tendencies seem to have become as much out of control and
off kilter as they were then seems to have been challenged slightly by
what I've read in Richter's book Dada? It wasn't so much about the pain
and realizations of war as it was about their insatiable curiosity and
lust to understand what was next what was going to be "New".
I had been thinking that there were certain striking parallels between
The War On Terror and World War I, except that The War On Terror hasn't
really began yet, but similarly contains its own hornet's nest of
missteps and miscalculations to potentially become just as disastrous,
and sweep away governments and empires and established social order
just the way World War I did.
It's not really clear what really caused the first World War, sadly
historians are still scratching their heads on that, but it didn't help
that there was that incident in the classically politically confused
Sarajevo when the Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand, (not the pop group), a
possible heir to the Austro-Hungarian empire, was assassinated by a
Serbian nationalist and the Germans decided that they had better stomp
on the notion of Serbia independence before it got to big for its
My feeling is that Germany had already, for what ever over reaching
imperialist reasons of its own, pissed off a majority of the world's
coalition of a willing and they had had quite enough thank you. I don't
think that had they all known that The Allied Powers, led by the
British Empire, France, and Russia until 1918, and the United States
after 1917, would defeat the Central Powers, led by the German Empire,
Austro-Hungarian Empire and the Ottoman Empire and cause the complete
disintegration of those three empires and Russia, too, radically
altering the European and Middle Eastern maps, and/or 10 million would
die, and that the majority of the then royal monarchs and Grand Pooh
Bah of their day would be tossed out on their ears, or that the whole
sorry episode would beget a very bad sequel, World War II, they
wouldn't have been so eager to have it one another.
They might have treated the assassination provocation incident as a
criminal matter for police to handle rather than squandering their
blood and treasure settling scores the old-fashioned way, with trench
So I don't care if Dada's founders were a bunch of "draft dodging
deadbeat dads who left their dying wives," (oops that's Newt Gingrich's
ID,) reluctance to die in wars with such nebulous, ill-conceived, or
indistinct objectives seems very sensible to me. Frankly, I would
rather be writing manifestos in Zurich?
The problem in this country is that we're rapidly approaching some
hitherto unexperienced singular historical poignant peak of piquancy in
a time when politics and government really matter and we can choose to
re-engage and wrest the steering wheel of State from its looming
collision course or we can sit back and enjoy the view as we do the
Thelma-and-Louise big finish thing.
Before the invasion, which was supposed to be greeted with flowers, I
said that we should be thinking instead Algeria or Vietnam.
The administration, politically seeking to steady its troops, and with
it, hopefully America's resolve for victory, has provided little more
than a ratcheting up their noise machine rhetoric of the noble crusade
against the ruthless evil-doing killers (whom behead women and children
because they hate our freedom), a deadly syllogism that conflates a
population that broadly supports an insurgency with all terrorists that
has led to a military culture of revenge that has diminished all
distinctions between civilian and military targets in Iraq.
In the 1960's a popular conservative bumper sticker about Viet Nam was,
"Kill them all and let God sort them out." I thought that was a joke
but it's turned out to be policy.
A resurgence of such a bloodthirsty ethos in America was apparent on
the front page of the New York Post last week that had the death
picture of that terrorist guy, Al-ze-Whats-His-Name that had a cartoon
balloon caption coming from his mouth- "Time to warm up the virgins." I
had to laugh when I saw it at the Deli because, as I said to a fellow
late-night shopper, "That is just so wrong when so many levels." That
was a Dada moment.
A Dada Postscript
Let me tell you, after the last six years of the Bush administration I
feel like I have lived through The Big One, The Great War, The Bore To
End All Bores. Our unnecessary war has been a war of imagination waged
by the people with none, against a small minority with very medieval
imaginations, but soon expanding to attack the vast majority who have
very little, but who, as well as anybody, understand pain and hardship.
He, the president whose name we dare not speak, is not the War
President you silly people, he's the Big Oil President, the Big
Business President and Big Government President who want to be the big
shrinker of your government, now if he only had some talent for
governance? As a President with some experience with puppet governments
staffed with no show jobs for political cronies transitioning to the
private sector where they can pillage the treasury even more, has just
returned from Baghdad where he seems very pleased that they finally
found a couple of guys just dumb enough to be photographed with him in
the safe zone. I wonder how long those guys will last, better get those
wills filled out fast.
As I've said all along that we didn't invade Iraq to get the oil, we
invaded it to prevent others from having at it, developing it, drilling
it, pumping it, much less selling it. In return for the $40 million Big
Oil have contributed to his campaigns they have been nicely rewarded
with profits in the hundreds and hundreds of billions of dollars each,
and while he might seem to shed some crocodile tears at the prospect
that Americans might be being price gouged the vice president's former
Big Oil colleagues can't believe their good fortune.
Unfortunately for the Iraqis, Iraq is our real long-term strategic oil
reserve. The Iraqis might feel they have every right at this point to
be is mad as hell and be unwilling to take it anymore, but it's a
snowball's chance in hell that they will ever get the opportunity to
get control of their situation unless things get really, really, out of
control. The way it is now, they are going to have accept subsistence
level poverty as they eat it financially for the rest of the life of
'our' oil in 'their' ground. When their last barrel has finally been
pumped, it's remains spewed out some American exhaust pipe, Iraq will
free at last, free at last, My Great God Allah Almighty, free at last.
But mark my words, Iraq's oil is going to be some of the very last oil
ever pumped, we're saving it for something special. Not invented yet.
All present and future U.S. conflicts are shaping up to be resource
grabs to maintain corporate Globalisation strategies. It's your
Impirial defense dollars in action. The great empires have all
done this, but its in this, their final greedy empirical militarist
decline phase that they usually squander the peaceful fat easy set ups
they've attained... Trying to desparately to protect that which
recently required, they didn't need to attempt to steal in the first
I hope my lifetime I live long enough to see another historical period
where creative and intelligent people, like the Dadaists, actually get
fed up paying for these conflicts and start spending it on energy
sustainability, education, Art, environmental protection, etc.,
Anything but energy war?
So like Dada, it's been funny, angry, silly and confrontational, hope
to see you tonight. More next time.... Chow, Auf Weidersehen. -DK