Postcards from the Edge

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"It's blogger friends and people like RB that make me feel sane in this world we live in..."

michelle 'meg' goodrich

Yeah, I know, Team America ain't all American (Canadians have firm / mixed / confused [tick whichever applies] feelings about this), many are scattered across the globe, and not a few are nowhere to be found. It doesn't matter. The real stars seldom shine from any list of credits. There are many others, e.g. those on my blogroll, for example (there, on the left), without whose words, graphics and, sometimes, music I'd have been driven around the bend sometime during the past six months.

(That, in your opinion, I might be around the bend already is neither here nor there. From where I stand, we are only as far apart as we perceive each other to be. As the man said, "...don't think twice, it's alright".)

But, yes, meg says it all. Father Christopher (FC) has gathered unto himself a strange and diverse flock. While Sixpack Chopra, David Icke** and Dr. Phil McGraw retain a full and appreciative awareness of the world and those about them, FC's EGR Irregulars remain indifferent to the likes of Abraham Maslow, Ralph Waldo Emerson and flying lizards ruling the globe.

Such subjects do not interest them for, when all is said and done, they have other fish to fry. At the moment, in a secret chamber deep beneath the Jesus Bunker, FC has Chris Locke (his scribe, stenographer and general factotum) overseeing the postcard project. In turn, Locke has RB and Brother 'Badabing' Marek working shifts, browbeating teams of Irregulars into sending hometown, snail-mail postcards to:

Michelle Goodrich
1772 Merced Way
West Sacramento, CA 95601 USA

RB is screening cards for unpatriotic, condemnatory and un-Christian content while Brother Marek is having Sweet Melinda stash all lewd, obscene, salacious and other materials in a filing cabinet over at the Peekaboo Love Clinic for later, constructive use. I also have it on Good Authority that Michael Schumacher, should he win the Canadian Grand Prix for Ferrari later today, will be dedicating his victory to Mandarin Meg (and will have Rubens send her a post card).

The long and short of it is this. Don't give me any shit; you have been warned. Like it or not, you are a part of Team America. Now go out there and 'do the other thing'. You are, after all, a blogger.

** Reliable sources tell me David Icke [pdf] is compiling an unauthorised history of the EGR Irregulars. It describes in detail The Battle for All That Is Good, Noble and Just preceding Father Christopher's usurpation of the Web from Dave Winer (see Revenge of the Sith), the Eternal Mystery surrounding the FC / Chris Locke / RB relationship, and the unseen role of Brother Marek, hotly tipped by EGR Irregulars (odds of 7-10 are being offered) to take over the reins of the Jesus Bunker when FC retires.

I am also told Icke's history is replete with flying lizards, but that none of them belong to George W. Bush.

All across the nation, such a strange vibration | People in motion | There’s a whole generation, with a new explanation.

Scott McKenzie | San Francisco

Base Oddities

"Let's just see how it goes..."

One pill makes you larger | And one pill makes you small | And the ones that mother gives you | Don't do anything at all | Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall

Heavy rain slants across the streetlight across main road. Another ambulance wails past the solitary hooker sheltering beneath the petrol station's warm neon canopy. The road's a slick black snake of hissing, red-eyed cars bathed in falling shards of electric-yellow light. I turn from the bamboo blinds covering the rain-spattered kitchen window, tell Tom Waits to shut the fuck up, and consider the weatherman's prediction of 20-25' swells off the cape. Things look decidedly bleak. I pull on my coat and make my way down to my local, The Sick Rose.

Father Christopher, the ubiquitous mug of coffee before him, is holding a corner together with his absent, brooding gaze. I break his line of sight and the walls crumble. Sliding into a chair, I order the same. He looks at me.

"You back?"

My Spiritual Guide and Mentor (SG&M) is, if anything, a complex man. He has occasionally, among many other things, been called obscure, but I have never found him to be so. His is a deep question, deserving contemplation and a considered answer.

"Unofficially," I reply glibly. "In the words of the immortal Weimeraner, let's just see how it goes."

FC takes a long pull from his cup, wipes foam from his mouth, glares at me and snorts. "Fuck you. There's no 'let's just see' about this. You're either in or out, on or off the bus. What's it to be?"

With a short, harsh laugh, I lean across the table, grab the back of his head and smack it hard onto the table. Thrice. My SG&M's eyes glaze and blood trickles from a cut above his right eye.

I sneer. "I have never been off the bus, you demented old louse."

Father Christopher's in a mellow mood. Our usual greeting ritual over, he wipes the blood from his forehead and smiles. "Uh, yeah, I know. So? What's up?"

"Y'know the final scenes in 2001: A Space Odyssey? The return to forever?"

"Yeah."

"Is it really like that?"

And if you go chasing rabbits | And you know you're going to fall | Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar | Has given you the call | Call Alice when she was just small

My SG&M eyes me suspiciously.

"Of course it is. We're all going backwards. But this is really about the mighty CRSS, isn't it? Give it time, my friend."

The mighty Congo River Surf Safari was a six-month venture undertaken over two years by a team of hardened EGR Irregulars determined to surf the world's largest waterfalls—known to exist at a secret spot on the great African river.

Logistics and support for the venture, underwritten by Father Christopher's Jesus Bunker, included an army under the command of Colonel Frank "Fang" Paynter, an aircraft carrier (the JBS Argot), a goodly supply of Kombinat!, unlimited ammunition, new surfboards and free copies of the South African magazine, Fair Lady.

The last proved of immense use in garnering support among local tribes for our expedition.

The mission came to a premature end after a particularly vicious attack by Guatemalan pygmies below the Lualaba Stretch ended the life of Carmela, one of my female companions.

When the men on the chessboard | Get up and tell you where to go | And you've just had some kind of mushroom | And your mind is moving low | Go ask Alice, I think she'll know

"Come to think of it, we were surfing waterfalls long before tsunamis became the rage," I muse.

I drum my fingers on the table, take a swig of coffee and study my surroundings. Lord Randall is playing on the radio. I ask the barkeep—a natural-born killer who reaches for his AK47—to turn it up. Not taking his eyes off me, he puts aside the rifle and does so.

"What?" FC looks bemused.

"Sorry. I was just thinking.... We're always on somebody else's street, y'know? The thing to do is to keep travelling."

"Yeah."

Through the high window I can see the sky has turned to fire and the rain to a scarlet mist.

It feels good to be home—albeit unoficially, of course...

When logic and proportion | Have fallen sloppy dead | And the White Knight is talking backwards | And the Red Queen's off with her head | Remember what the doormouse said | Feed your head, feed your head.

Jefferson Airplane | White Rabbit

The Hate-filled Samoosa?

"Listen to me; listen to me; listen to me. I will kill you. I will kill you. You don't mean anything to me."

Abdul Hoosen

On June 4, 2005, Independent Online (IOL) reported knife-wielding Simon's Town cafe owner Abdul Hoosen, 67, being fined ZAR1,500.00 or thirty days' jail for unleashing a "...a tirade of anti-US hate speech..." against San Diego resident and visitor to South Africa, Russell Dicky, 36, who'd stopped in at his store to buy a samoosa.

IOL continues:

Dicky told the court he had picked up a samoosa and put it in a bag and said to Hoosen: "By the way, what's in the samoosa?"

He said Hoosen had looked at him for a moment and then said: "You Americans ask stupid questions."

"I said pardon me, and he said: 'You Americans are very stupid'."

Dicky said he then asked for his money back, but Hoosen came at him with a long, serrated kitchen knife.

[...]

Dicky said the knife had been at his throat. "I was edging out of the store but he was walking towards me. I was horrified and spellbound."

Dicky said Hoosen then started with hate speech.

"He went on about the United States and George Bush and Iraq."

more...

On December 26, 2004, a tsunami smashed into Northern Sumatra's Aceh province, killing 180,000 people. A further 40,000 died in at least 10 other countries.

On June 2, 2005, Tom Feeley of InformationClearingHouse posted a link to a Diario video smuggled out of Falluja by a body-clearing squad. Entitled Falluja — The Day After, it shows the systematic obliteration of the Iraqi city by U.S. forces during Operation Al-Fajr, i.e. 'the dawn' on November 8, 2004.

Yesterday, after chasing a comedically positioned advertisement for National Geographic's screening of Insidethe Mafia from the page, I read a New York Times article about a South African Airways jet approaching Kennedy International Airport scattering a dismembered stowaway's body parts across Nassau County.

Although the man's fall from grace damaged Pamela Hearne's home at 361 Louis Avenue in South Floral Park, South African Airways assures us the extraordinary landing made "...no impact on our in-flight crew and passengers."

On June 9, 2005, at a fish fry held at his home in Wilmington, Carolina, Second Lieutenant Ilario Pantano, 33, acquitted by a U.S. Marine Corp Article 32 Pretrial Hearing of murdering two Iraqi detainees, surrendered his commission to staunch supporter Congressman Walter Jones.

On April 15, 2004, Pantano and his men, a Marine sergeant and a Navy hospitalman, fired on a car near Baghdad, apprehending two men, whom they handcuffed. Charges against Pantano state he soon ordered the captives' cuffs removed to enable them to search their own car for hidden weapons or explosives.

He then told his men "to take up posts facing away" and shot both suspects more than 60 times "in the back with an M16A service rifle."

Pantano later told investigators the detainees began talking to each other. Unable to understand them, he ordered silence. They swung toward him and, fearing for his safety, he opened fire. He then placed the bodies "on display to send a message to the local people" and placed "a sign stating 'No Better Friend, No Worse Enemy'" above their corpses.

The slogan was a direct quote of his commanding officer, Lieutenant General James Mattis.

On February 1, 2005, General Mattis told an audience gathered in San Diego (Russell Dicky's hometown), "Actually, it's a lot of fun to fight. You know, it's a hell of a hoot. It's fun to shoot some people. I'll be right upfront with you, I like brawling."

"I'm glad that justice has been done..."

Russell Dicky

Suggested Samoosa filling: Source The Complete Asian Cookbook

1 tablespoon oil or ghee • 1 clove garlic — finely chopped • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger root — finely chopped • 2 medium onions — finely chopped • 2 teaspoons curry powder • 1/2 teaspoon salt • 1 tablespoon vinegar or lemon juice • 8 oz steak or lamb — minced • 1/2 cup hot water • 1 teaspoon garam masala • 2 tablespoons fresh mint or coriander leaves — chopped • oil for frying

Heat oil in a saucepan and fry garlic, ginger and half the onion until onion is soft. Add curry powder, salt and vinegar, mix well. Add minced steak and fry over a high heat, stirring constantly until meat changes color. Turn heat down and add hot water. Cover pan and cook until meat is tender and all the liquid has been absorbed. Towards end of cooking, stir frequently to prevent meat from sticking to base of pan. Sprinkle with garam masala and chopped mint or coriander, remove from heat and allow to cool. Mix in reserved chopped onion.

Note On June 16, 2005, Colombian artist Fernando Botero opens an exhibition in Rome's Palazzo Venezia. Botero's works include 50 studies of the torture by U.S. occupation forces of Iraqis at Baghdad's notorious Abu Ghraib prison.

An Open Sky

After all
the prayers
have been said,
and the tears shed
and the uncomfortable silences,
when we cannot respond,
endured
there remains
the soft, tender sorrow
that time does not heal.

And in that sorrow,
Fatah,
an opening
to the genuine sadness
of being alive ---
open to
the absolute necessity
of letting go
of everyone
and everything
we love.

we can close off
this deep sadness
or open
our tender hearts
so wide
that our heart
becomes as an
open sky ---

no borders,
nor boundaries,
just
an open sky.

Rumi, from Andie's Web

Joint Ventures

Fuuuuck, dude!"

Leafing through Polemic Mbongi's standard, African Myth and Legend — Tales for the Post-modern, I stumbled across the following.

A monkey is sitting in a tree smoking a joint. A lizard walks past, looks up, and asks the monkey, "Hey! What are you doing?"

The monkey answers, "I'm smoking a joint. Come up and have one."

The lizard climbs up next to the monkey. They smoke a few joints. After a while, the lizard tells the monkey he is thirsty. His mouth is 'dry'. He decides to go down to the river to drink some water.

Down at the river, the stoned lizard loses his balance and falls into the water. A crocodile sees this. He swims over to the lizard and helps him to the side. He then asks him, "What's the matter with you?"

The lizard tells the crocodile he was smoking a joint with the monkey. Stoned and thirsty, he fell into the river. The crocodile decides to check out the lizards's story. He walks into the jungle and finds the tree. The monkey is finishing another joint.

The crocodile looks up at him and calls, "Hey! You!"

The Monkey looks down at the crocodile. His eyes widen.

"Fuuuuck, dude! How much water did you drink?"

Indeed. While we in the Department sometimes refer jocularly to Polemic's work as Postcards from the Edge, we know it to be a seminal work, relegating the likes of Credo Mutwa (Africa's Six-pack Chopra) and other frauds to a necessary obscurity.

Mbongi's book contains wisdom for the world. But does the world listen? No, of course not.

The Med Effect...

kisses for nothing

lace and velvet kisses on the balcony
and the wind sweeps the cocaine off the banister and the razor falls to the ground
we s a y a few words in unison
and break down our doors
a kiss on the floor
two more strokes, a little more
for once i'm not being paid to love you
and the whispering in my ear
actually sounds real
like a china... porcelain... shattered mirror
you tell me the ugly truth about myself
i l o v e y o u
written on the concrete-diary floor
and the pages that exist in wonder and betrayal
lick the blood from your hands
when you awake, kind sir
holding me in your arms
a trigger be pulled
and we lie together
[h o l d i n g ♥ h a n d s]
a red sunset for lovers never parted

cathryn

Jesus. Kids... who needs 'em? My thirteen-year old has a steady boyfriend. He's been around several months. She writes this while he says little, plays a guitar, sleeps, smokes, keeps odd hours, dresses in black, listens to metal, sticks needles and pins through his head, and is extremely polite. To me... not to his parents. He has no long-term plans. I don't think he bothers much about the future. But it doesn't matter. Cathryn's mood is improving. I think the boy's good for her.

Credibility

"What will be the state of their union?" Cartoon by Steve Bell [Guardian]

"For diplomacy to be effective, words must be credible."

George W. Bush

The Official Story

The Interim Government, reversing a long legacy of serious human rights abuses under the previous regime, generally respected human rights, but serious problems remained. During the period of the report, the Government's human rights performance was handicapped by a serious insurgency in which a terrorist campaign of violence impacted every aspect of life with executions, kidnappings, torture, and intimidation waged against civilians, the Government and Coalition Forces. Although this insurgency may have had popular support in some areas, its core was former regime elements, foreign and domestic terrorists, and organized criminal gangs. On November 7, Prime Minister Iyad Allawi declared a 60-day state of emergency limited to Ramadi and Fallujah, in accordance with the July 6 IIG "Order of Safeguarding National Security." The state of emergency provides broad powers to impose curfews, close off entire towns and cities, take command of intelligence and security forces, and restrict assembly and movement. It remained in effect at year's end.

With the ongoing insurgency limiting access to information, a number of instances in the Report have been difficult to verify. However, there were reports of arbitrary deprivation of life, torture, impunity, poor prison conditions--particularly in pretrial detention facilities—and arbitrary arrest and detention. There remained unresolved problems relating to the large number of Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). Corruption at all levels of the Government remained a problem. Some aspects of the judicial system were dysfunctional, and there were reports that the judiciary was subject to external influence.

U.S. Department of State | Country Reports on Human Rights Practices – 2004

The Media's Take

Iraq's interim government replaced the human rights abuses of ousted dictator Saddam Hussein with its own offenses — including torture, arbitrary arrests, bribery and death — according to an annual U.S. human rights report. The U.S. State Department's assessment, titled "Country Reports on Human Rights," examines conditions in 196 countries including Iraq, Iran, Russia, Ghana, Guatemala, China and North Korea.

The document, released Monday, said the violent insurgency undermined the government and civic life and promulgated a "continuing shortage of services and staples."

CNN | Report cites Iraq government abuses, progress

Bolton Unplugged

"You're a Communist Party member?"

Replying to Bolton's jab, Pilger explained to him the current politics of Britain: "Well, Labour Party—they're the conservatives." Pilger meant "conservative" as in supporting Prime Minister Tony Blair's embrace of the war in Iraq.

By now Bolton was walking away from Pilger, looking like he much desired a fast separation. With a mischievous (or, some might say, wicked) smile on his face, Bolton shot back, "You're a Communist Party member?"

That was the Kodak moment, and it was captured by Pilger's camera operator. On Planet Bolton, if you inquire too forcefully about civilian casualties, you must be a commie. The Cold War might be over. But at least one senior Bush aide is keeping its spirit alive.

Pilger's documentary, as far as I can tell, has not aired in the United States. I've only seen the scenes involving Bolton and Feith. So I cannot vouch for the entire film. But in a flash, Pilger captured on tape a brief but telling exchange. Call it Bolton unplugged, and it's mean and ugly.

David Corn | A No-Compassion Conservative?

Looking back, it will seem to future generations inexplicable why Americans were unable on their own, and in time to save themselves, to accept a rule of nature so basic that it could be mouthed by an actor, Lawrence Fishburn, in a movie, The Cotton Club.

"You've got to learn," the line went, "That when you push people around, some people push back."

As they should.

As they must.

And as they undoubtedly will.

There is justice in such symmetry.

Ward Churchill | "Some People Push Back"

The Doctor Is Out

Hunter Stockton Thompson 1937–2005

The Edge ... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.

Hunter S. Thompson | Hell's Angels

"He stomped terra."

Times Online | Hunter S. Thompson found dead

Hunter S. Thompson, the maverick journalist and author whose savage chronicling of the underbelly of American life and politics embodied a new kind of nonfiction writing he called "gonzo journalism," died yesterday in Colorado. Tricia Louthis, of the Pitkin County Sheriff's Office, said Mr. Thompson had died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound at his home in Woody Creek, Colo., yesterday afternoon. He was 65.

New York Times | Hunter S. Thompson, 65, Author, Commits Suicide

Hunter S. Thompson in 2003 summed up his life thus: "I was a notorious best-selling author of weird and brutal books and also a widely feared newspaper columnist ... I was also drunk, crazy and heavily armed at all times." He died on Sunday as a result of gunshot wounds, apparently self-inflicted.

The Independent | Hunter S. Thompson: Obituary


"...not everybody is made for this life..."

Thompson is credited with pioneering New Journalism - or, as he dubbed it, "gonzo journalism" - in which the writer made himself an essential component of the story. Much of his earliest work appeared in Rolling Stone magazine.

"Fiction is based on reality unless you're a fairy-tale artist," Thompson told the AP in 2003. "You have to get your knowledge of life from somewhere. You have to know the material you're writing about before you alter it."

An acute observer of the decadence and depravity in American life, Thompson also wrote such collections "Generation of Swine" and "Songs of the Doomed." His first ever novel, "The Rum Diary," written in 1959, was first published in 1998.

Guardian Online | Author Hunter S. Thompson Kills Himself

On Sunday morning, I had just finished signing the 1,200 title pages for a limited-edition Taschen version of The Curse of LONO, which Hunter had signed so uncharacteristically - obedient and mechanical - over the month of December. I thought that was very strange. He has to be cajoled like a child to do anything like that, so I drew his portrait across the last sheet, glaring out, his two eyes in the two Os of LONO, put the cigarette holder with long Dunhill prodding upwards in his grimacing mouth, signed it with an extra flourish and closed the last of the four boxes. The old bastard! He waited to make sure I had finished the task. Then he signed himself off.

Ralph Steadman | Hunter S. Thompson RIP: 'I would feel real trapped in this life if I didn't know I could commit suicide at any time'

"Welcome to the future of America. Welcome to Shotgun Golf."

Hunter S. Thompson | Shotgun Golf with Bill Murray

More...
Guardian Online | 'Truth is weirder than any fiction I've seen ... '
Scotsman | Lazy Guide to Net Culture: Hunter farewell
This is London | Hunter S Thompson takes his final trip
The Age | Hunter S. Thompson writes his own ending
The Australian | 'Gonzo' legend shoots himself
Rolling Stone | Hunter S. Thompson Dies
William Rivers Pitt | The Proverbial 'Live Boy'
Herald Sun | Hunter S. Thompson: Death of a sacred clown
The Mercury News | Hunter S. Thompson takes his last trip, echoing Hemingway
Times Online | Hunter S. Thompson Obituary
New York Times Books | The Thompson Style: A Sense of Self, and Outrage

Hunter tried to teach us that objectivity is a rule set that can be gamed, corrupted, and shaped into a weapon for use against the very principles it was developed to protect. He tried to teach us that fact and truth aren’t the same thing. Quoting Faulkner, he noted that "the best fiction is far more true than any kind of journalism – and the best journalists have always known this." He set an uncompromising determination to get at the truth ahead of what he saw as artificial rules and conventions, and if the "facts" got in the way of the truth, well, that told you something about the facts, didn’t it?

Sam Smith | Fear, Loathing, and Great Reporting

Dumb, Dumber, and Dubya

Dubya's State of Amurky Address (Parts I and II)

"Gotta trillion bucks?" I have a Muslim friend's response to this speech on another machine. It's worth reading and I'll try put it up in a day or two, with his permission. But, really, the above photograph (taken from the White House site) says it all, as does this one from ray sweatman, whose poetry I've missed and now enjoy so much. Actually (and typically), it's from Colonel Frank Paynter, recently returned from the Great Congo River Surf Safari (about which I'll tell you more later). Now, why'd I think it was ray?

America's Body Politics

"...the survival of liberty."

For me, it's just another story, but out of this comes a core of — you know, we all deal in "macro" in Washington. On the macro, we're hopeless. We're nowhere. The press is nowhere. The congress is nowhere. The military is nowhere. Every four-star General I know is saying, "Who is going to tell them we have no clothes?" Nobody is going to do it. Everybody is afraid to tell Rumsfeld anything. That's just the way it is.

It's a system built on fear. It's not lack of integrity, it's more profound than that. Because there is individual integrity. It's a system that's completely been taken over — by cultists. Anyway, what's going to happen, I think, as the casualties mount and these stories get around, and the mothers see the cost and the fathers see the cost, as the kids come home. And the wounded ones come back, and there's wards that you will never hear about.

That's wards — you know about the terrible catastrophic injuries, but you don't know about the vegetables. There's ward after ward of vegetables because the brain injuries are so enormous. As you maybe read last week, there was a new study in one of the medical journals that the number of survivors are greater with catastrophic injuries because of their better medical treatment and the better armor they have. So you get more extreme injuries to extremities.


"...the unfinished work of American freedom."

We're going to learn more and I think you're going to see, it's going to — it's — I'm trying to be optimistic. We're going to see a bottom swelling from inside the ranks. You're beginning to see it. What happened with the soldiers asking those questions, you may see more of that. I'm not suggesting we're going to have mutinies, but I'm going to suggest you're going to see more dissatisfaction being expressed. Maybe that will do it.

Another salvation may be the economy. It's going to go very bad, folks. You know, if you have not sold your stocks and bought property in Italy, you better do it quick. And the third thing is Europe — Europe is not going to tolerate us much longer. The rage there is enormous. I'm talking about our old-fashioned allies. We could see something there, collective action against us.

Certainly, nobody — it's going to be an awful lot of dancing on our graves as the dollar goes bad and everybody stops buying our bonds, our credit — our — we're spending $2 billion a day to float the debt, and one of these days, the Japanese and the Russians, everybody is going to start buying oil in Euros instead of dollars. We're going to see enormous panic here.

But he could get through that.

That will be another year, and the damage he's going to do between then and now is enormous. We're going to have some very bad months ahead.

Seymour Hersh | We've Been Taken Over By a Cult

One group of people who are refusing to go home are the drivers of cars stuck in queues, sometimes as long as two miles, waiting to buy petrol. "I have been waiting in my car since 4.30pm yesterday and I have not moved a metre," said Abu Ali Anwar. He opened the door of his car to show the heap of blankets on which he had been sleeping overnight.

He added furiously: "We are not moving because the police at the petrol station are taking bribes of 25,000 dinars (£9) to let other drivers jump the queue."

Most Iraqis talk more about the problems of survival than the election. "We are suffering from many crises: lack of food, electricity and fuel," Mr Anwar said. "It was bad enough under Saddam but now it is 10 times worse. I graduated from college but I have to work as a taxi driver and I do not have enough money even to buy shoes."

Patrick Cockburn | The streets of Baghdad are empty. It feels like a city preparing for war

Shias are about to inherit Iraq, but the election tomorrow that will bring them to power is creating deep fears among the Arab kings and dictators of the Middle East that their Sunni leadership is under threat.

America has insisted on these elections - which will produce a largely Shia parliament representing Iraq's largest religious community - because they are supposed to provide an exit strategy for embattled US forces, but they seem set to change the geopolitical map of the Arab world in ways the Americans could never have imagined. For George Bush and Tony Blair this is the law of unintended consequences writ large.

Robert Fisk | This election will change the world. But not in the way the Americans imagined

Note While Robert Fisk, Patrick Cockburn, Juan Cole and others keep us abreast of the U.S.'s Iraqi elections, Dave Winer wins kudos for uncovering this 1967 New York Times article [pdf]. Welcome to the future past.