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Jeffrey Epstein escapes federal jail

Even petty blackmailer extortionists know to warn "if anything happens to me, incriminating evidence will be released to the media." Billionaire sex offender Jeffrey Epstein is already fading from the news and not one manila envelope has dropped. What does that tell you about what "happened" to Jeffrey Epstein? It didn't. You might think his suicide was really a murder, but let's remember he counted the most powerful pervs among his friends. Fat chance any of them wanted their friend and primo procurer killed. Before his suicide, Jeffrey Epstein signed a will, his last legal opportunity to do so, then he did El Chapo one better. With allegedly dozing guards (one of them a temp with a shorter personnel record, maybe more easily impersonated), and under faulty surveillance cameras, El Epstein disappeared from federal custody into his own self-financed witness protection plan. What's it take? An anesthetic cocktail for the short gurney ride, not that many parties to pay off or knock off later, your body is released to an unnamed "Epstein Associate," and it's party time again at your Virgin Island! Pretty damn obvious.

DIA issues protest permit under court order, but limits crowd size to, wait for it, FOUR! Then court stays injunction.

DENVER, COLORADO- Abiding by the injunction in McDonnell v Denver, DIA administrators granted us a free speech permit within 24-hours on Thursday, but they insisted that the terminal location desired could only accommodate FOUR PEOPLE. You heard right. Four. There's irony here too because there were FIVE people named on the permit application! Thus the permit was actually 20% denied, and in reality 92% denied given that we sought a permit for 50 people, a number easily lower than the DIA International Arrivals area can handle.   MEANWHILE, in the 10th Circuit Court, the city of Denver appealed the DIA injunction and asked for a stay. This is not usually granted in First Amendment cases, but on Thursday it was. The 10th Circuit stayed the injunction and wants to hear arguments on March 17. So at DIA for now we're back to the impermissive permit process that precludes accomodating public expression at the Denver airport. And the signing of President Trump's new improved Muslim Ban looms... THAT'S the more significant development in the case for free speech at DIA. But let's get back to our story, to how poorly DIA administrators complied during the small window when our court injunction was in force and DIA was enjoined to be accomodating to the public's right to expression. Getting the permit process started was not easy. There are instructions on the DIA website but no application. A call to DIA was routed to a person who insisted we read instructions online. We said we did. She replied that if we had, we'd know what to do. We reiterated that there was no application there, and that we needed an application. She took our names and vowed to have someone call us back. This was at 11:30am. After an hour we called back, explaining that time was of the essence, as was for them as well in responding to our request. We were given the same instruction, to consult the rules online. We explained that we'd READ the rules, STUDIED THEM in fact, and had them reviewed by a FEDERAL COURT. We exlained there was now a federal injunction to which DIA was bound and we required our permit request to be considered promptly, the first step of which, we presumed to be, the submission of an application! Our call was forwarded to a person who eventually emailed an application blank at approximately 4pm. We filed the application immediately and here's the correspondence that resulted: Mr. Dalton Please find attached a request for permit to protest at DIA at outside of international arrivals. We are requesting this in an expedited fashion  pursuant to judge Martinez's decision of a preliminary injunction re: Civil Action No 17-cv-0332-W JM-MJW. A new executive order is anticipated to be announced regarding the "Muslim ban" in the next day or two and we are requesting that the permit be processed within 24 hours to allow for a timely protest. We do not intend to obstruct airport operations. I will send you a copy

Denver’s Office of the Independent Monitor moved, no one’s saying where

Denver's Office of the Independent Monitor moved from its offices on the 12th floor of the Wellington Webb Building. Staff for the City Attorney, who've moved in, are saying they don't know where the OIM has gone. Convenient. FYI, it's moved to the Denver Post Building, but the information desk there won't tell you were it is either. So the bad news is that you have to know it's there, you have to have an appointment, and you have to know who you're seeing there before security will send someone to escort you up. Denver's OIM recently made the news about city council renewing their commitment to its existance, but it's becoming nearly invisible to the public it's supposed to serve.

Wilfred Owen: Spring Offensive & PTSD

You won’t find a more haunting depiction of battle induced PTSD than the last two stanzas of Wilfred Owen’s Spring Offensive. You’ll be curious no doubt to double back on the setup: troops being marched to the frontline, the idyllic lull before battle, the unceremonious charge, and the moment a stealthy sprint turns to mayhem. The next stanza speculates about the fate of those who fall in battle: to bullets, to explosive shells, and to shrapnel. The last stanza is about the "too swift" survivors who "out-fiend" death to come through, and don't want to, or can't, talk about it. Spring Offensive (April, 1917) Halted against the shade of a last hill, They fed, and, lying easy, were at ease And, finding comfortable chests and knees, Carelessly slept.                           But many there stood still To face the stark, blank sky beyond the ridge, Knowing their feet had come to the end of the world. Marvelling they stood, and watched the long grass swirled By the May breeze, murmurous with wasp and midge, For though the summer oozed into their veins Like the injected drug for their bones’ pains, Sharp on their souls hung the imminent line of grass, Fearfully flashed the sky’s mysterious glass. Hour after hour they ponder the warm field— And the far valley behind, where the buttercup Had blessed with gold their slow boots coming up, Where even the little brambles would not yield, But clutched and clung to them like sorrowing hands; They breathe like trees unstirred. Till like a cold gust thrilled the little word At which each body and its soul begird And tighten them for battle. No alarms Of bugles, no high flags, no clamorous haste— Only a lift and flare of eyes that faced The sun, like a friend with whom their love is done. O larger shone that smile against the sun,— Mightier than his whose bounty these have spurned. So, soon they topped the hill, and raced together Over an open stretch of herb and heather Exposed. And instantly the whole sky burned With fury against them; earth set sudden cups In thousands for their blood; and the green slope Chasmed and steepened sheer to infinite space. Of them who running on that last high place Leapt to swift unseen bullets, or went up On the hot blast and fury of hell’s upsurge, Or plunged and fell away past this world’s verge, Some say God caught them even before they fell. But what say such as from existence’ brink Ventured but drave too swift to sink. The few who rushed in the body to enter hell, And there out-fiending all its fiends and flames With superhuman inhumanities, Long-famous glories, immemorial shames— And crawling slowly back, have by degrees Regained cool peaceful air in wonder— Why speak they not of comrades that went under?

Wilfred Owen: Dulce et decorum est (Pro patria mori – The Old Lie)

The Roman poet Horace wrote "It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country" as Rome shifted from republic to empire. By 1917 British infantryman Wilfred Owen had reduced Horace's sentiment to "The old Lie." Owen was killed in the Great War. His poem wasn't published until 1920 after the war. Even exposed, the old lie went on to adorn many monuments, including, also in 1920, the rising U.S. empire's Arlington National Cemetery. Dulce et Decorum Est (August, 1917) Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. Then somewhere near in front: Whew... fup... fop... fup... Gas-shells or duds? We loosened masks, in case -- And listened ... Nothing... Far rumouring of Krupp... Then stinging, poison hit us in the face. Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! — An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . . Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, — My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

Don’t miss the big fight: Bernie “Birdie” Sanders versus Hillary the War Hawk!

A Damn clever poster for the 2016 DNC. Forgot to list fight venue. SHOWDOWN IN PHILLY. Biggest U.S. national political showdown of the century. Democratic Convention. July 25-28, 2016 at 8:00 AM. Mainstreet vs. Wall Street. Bernie ‘Birdie’ Sanders, aka Lefty Sanders, aka The Bern, aka The Sandman, aka El Sabio (the wise) vs. Hillary ‘War Hawk’ Clinton, aka Goldman Girl, aka Monsanto Mama, aka The Fracker, aka Not My Abuela. Spouses discuss: internships at the White House, favorability polls vs GOP, FBI investigation, independent voters of the USA, Bernie or Bust reality check, election fraud, political revolution or status quo, public interest or corporate interest. Tickets are $27 bucks for general admission or $250,000 VIP seating. At the WELLS FARGO CENTER in PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, USA.

December 19 the Billion People March

http://www.billionpeoplemarch.org/ Denver https://www.facebook.com/events/1630747410519445/ New York FB http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2765?affiliate=1000019 LA Macarthur Park http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2775 Minneapois http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2767 Vancouver FB http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2768 Buenos Ayres http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2773 Oslo FB http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2781 Istanbul, Taksim Square FB http://unify.org/peacemap/web/events/2771

In God We Trust by Eduardo Galeano

Presidents of the United States tend to speak in God's name, although none of them has let on if He communicates by letter, fax, telephone or telepathy. With or without His approval, in 2006 God was proclaimed chairman of the Republican Party of Texas. That said, the All Powerful, who is even on the dollar bill, was a shining absence at the time of independence. The constitution did not mention Him. At the Constitutional Convention, when a prayer was suggested, Alexander Hamilton responded: "We don't need foreign aid." On his deathbed, George Washington wanted no prayers or priest or anything. Benjamin Franklin said divine revelation was nothing but poppycock. "My mind is my own church," affirmed Thomas Paine, and President John Adams believed that "this world would be the best of all worlds, if there were no religion in it." According to Thomas Jefferson, Catholic priests and Protestant ministers were "soothsayers and necromancers" who divided humanity, making "one half fools and the other half hypocrites." -Eduardo Galeano (1940-2015) RIP

BREAKING: CNN loses Korean ferry

Whether an airliner disappears in thin air, or a ship capsizes right before the eyes of rescuers, the failure of modern technology is confounding television viewers. Will the common fate of passengers become the tragic constant?

The Putin knock-knock joke is easier to find than his Kremlin speech on Crimea

This graphic circulating on the interwebs is a lot easier to find than Vladimir Putin's March 18 address to the Kremlin about the referendum in Crimea after the Western coup in Ukraine. Bypassing dubious translations excerpted on Capitalist media sites, here is a transcript of his speech direct from the Kremlin. Putin is no hero, but he threatens US-EU banking hegemony, gives asylum to Edward Snowden, and executes zero people with drones. QUOTING PRESIDENT OF RUSSIA VLADIMIR PUTIN: Federation Council members, State Duma deputies, good afternoon. Representatives of the Republic of Crimea and Sevastopol are here among us, citizens of Russia, residents of Crimea and Sevastopol! Dear friends, we have gathered here today in connection with an issue that is of vital, historic significance to all of us. A referendum was held in Crimea on March 16 in full compliance with democratic procedures and international norms. More than 82 percent of the electorate took part in the vote. Over 96 percent of them spoke out in favour of reuniting with Russia. These numbers speak for themselves. To understand the reason behind such a choice it is enough to know the history of Crimea and what Russia and Crimea have always meant for each other. Everything in Crimea speaks of our shared history and pride. This is the location of ancient Khersones, where Prince Vladimir was baptised. His spiritual feat of adopting Orthodoxy predetermined the overall basis of the culture, civilisation and human values that unite the peoples of Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. The graves of Russian soldiers whose bravery brought Crimea into the Russian empire are also in Crimea. This is also Sevastopol – a legendary city with an outstanding history, a fortress that serves as the birthplace of Russia’s Black Sea Fleet. Crimea is Balaklava and Kerch, Malakhov Kurgan and Sapun Ridge. Each one of these places is dear to our hearts, symbolising Russian military glory and outstanding valour. Crimea is a unique blend of different peoples’ cultures and traditions. This makes it similar to Russia as a whole, where not a single ethnic group has been lost over the centuries. Russians and Ukrainians, Crimean Tatars and people of other ethnic groups have lived side by side in Crimea, retaining their own identity, traditions, languages and faith. Incidentally, the total population of the Crimean Peninsula today is 2.2 million people, of whom almost 1.5 million are Russians, 350,000 are Ukrainians who predominantly consider Russian their native language, and about 290,000-300,000 are Crimean Tatars, who, as the referendum has shown, also lean towards Russia. True, there was a time when Crimean Tatars were treated unfairly, just as a number of other peoples in the USSR. There is only one thing I can say here: millions of people of various ethnicities suffered during those repressions, and primarily Russians. Crimean Tatars returned to their homeland. I believe we should make all the necessary political and legislative decisions to finalise the rehabilitation of Crimean Tatars, restore them in their rights and clear their good name. We have great respect for people of

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