MARK CURTIS WAS FRAMED! by Colin Mulholland

This subject literally hits close to home, being Mark Curtis is a Des Moines Iowa man and me being a Cedar Rapids Iowa resident. He's a socialist, I am an anarchist. With all the things we have been seeing in the news lately about the Baltimore riots and the case of Freddie Gray. I thought it would be a refresher to, not only show police brutality is a two way street, but to remind everybody that even your social beliefs can be under attack. Mark Curtis was a member of the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), a political party whose beliefs celebrated the idea of socialism, the social ownership of the means of production and co-operative management of the economy, as well as a political theory and movement that aims at the establishment of such a system. (Google/ Wikipedia) AKA:

 

In 1988 Curtis' life took a dramatic turn when he was confronted at a stoplight by a woman who claimed she was being followed, being a generous person Curtis offered the woman a lift home. Once at the woman's home he walked her to the door to assure her safety all the way, from there police handcuffed him, pulled down his pants to ensure no escape, beat him and took him to jail. He was than later accused and prosecuted in the attempted rape of a 15 year old girl by the name of Demetria Morris. Curtis was sentenced to twenty five years in prison (was released after eight) and the Morris family received  $80,000. In the case of Mark Curtis, In Michael Parenti's lecture "Lazy Law and Social Control" Michael Parenti goes on to explain that Demetria Morris' statement claimed that her attacker was 5'6, and had the smell of cigarette smoke on his breath. He further explains that "Curtis is over six feet tall, does not smoke, and was in a restaurant with a dozen other people at the specified time of the rape." Only one cop testified, and even before the verdict four members of the jury had openly stated that they did not feel that Curtis was guilty. Even with the provided evidence of his innocence, he was found guilty.

 

Mark Curtis' only real crime was that he was a hard working American packaging worker who happened to be a Socialist in a time when Communists were seen as an enemy. The story of Mark Curtis is a tragic indictment into the sad truism behind political censorship in America. Noam Chomsky even stated in his lecture "The Class War" "There is no law protecting workers' freedom of speech in the work place." Mark Curtis was the victim of a setup by (obviously) a fellow employee who saw his socialism as a threat to the workers around him. Mark Curtis openly spoke out against the raid at his meat packaging plant in which many workers, legal and illegal were arrested. Mark Curtis loved his job so much that eventually it incarcerated him. It is my belief that Mark Curtis' case should be thoroughly re-investigated and that he should earn a reparational stipend from the Des Moines Police Department to compensate for their mistake!

THAT SIDE OF TOWN by Colin Mulholland

I grew up in white suburbia of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I hated it. I've always known my place was in the working class burbs of this city. My mom and dad are both working class people and come from that background as well so that is very well embedded in me. But my mom and dad worked their asses off so they could provide me and my brothers a nice house to live in and not to always be living in an apartment complex full of drug dealers like we were back in 1994. That being said, I currently live on Oakland road, predominantly a working class neighborhood on the outskirts of town it's nowhere near the SE side, it is more close to Coe College, but even more so, it is right on the outskirts of where the good side of town meets the bad. I walk past black people from that side of town all the time, they look like they dont wanna be here when they are, and I dont blame them. This part of CR is friggen white beyond belief. I lived on the SE at one point and actually got along with the people in the neighborhood well because they would see me around walking so they knew I belonged there. You need to show you belong where you are, and I think that's where alot of the racism in this city comes from. Uncomfortable african americans walking through sides of town getting gauked at because they dont feel welcome because how the people here proceive them. It's no different on the SE either. This world would be a better place if we dropped the borders of where people belong and end the whole "That side of town" thing, because if you live in a city it shouldnt be "That side of town" it's your town! It's their town too! If you live amongst one another you belong anywhere despite class or race. And that's a huge problem amongst the wealthy people, they wouldnt go near "That side of town" if we payed them. They dont care to understand the love and unity that side of town actually has and how much better it would prosper if the buildings and houses were shown a little more love, but instead of seeing all of that they just see is a ghetto. If the rich actually cared about their city they would open up their hearts and donate a portion of their disposable income to the cause of AFFORDABLE LIVING, and not just affordable living but the idea that people who make less can have a beautiful home. But that's the problem. Nobody wants to do that, especially for black majority parts of town. So the Black community become disgruntled, tensions raise, police get called, than innocent people start dying. Than the riots happen. Because nobody takes the time to actually educate themselves about what's happening in their community. They let the negatives outweigh the positives and it obscures their vision with a smoke screen preventing the change. And that is what we sincerely need in this country right now is positive change. Not just for black lives but for ALL lives.

BALTIMORE AND THE AMERICAN HISTORY OF RACIALLY TENSE POLICE STATES by Colin Mulholland

A riot is a disgruntled society's way of saying their voices are going unheard, you can only talk for so long before you've had enough. Words can go through one ear and out the other without question and they can be disregarded. A riot can leave outstanding amounts of emotions and that is why they are so effective. I may not agree with the lot of you about how you feel about the Baltimore situation, but I do agree that destroying businesses you consume at weekly is a bad idea if the owners end up recognizing you on camera footage. That is why rioters should destroy things like banks, social security offices, H&R Blocks and places of government. If you're going to jail for desecration and destruction, do so to the places that really matter. Businesses are not the problem, the problem is government and the fact you pay for the police's injustices. If you destroy government related institutions they will see it as a government problem not as a bunch of pissed off rioters and eventually something will have to be done related to the situation.

    
The whole of police States started with segregation in the 30's-60's it didn't escalate until the sixties when whites and blacks began banding together. Than the whole beat/ hippie thing happened and people started reading a lot more and opened their eyes and started questioning the government, so when the Vietnam war broke out and all the protests started and than the Kentucky student shootings happened with the national guard people started questioning the military. Riots like this have happened throughout our American history. But it hasn't been to any certain degree within a short amount of time like Ferguson did, than it was Oakland, now it's Baltimore. People everyday are starting to question the state of their nation and that's good. But if it takes til now to figure out that the military, the government, the police and the local governments are all in on Marshall law to enslave and destroy the american people, than it's about time to understand why people riot. If the government wants a war, they've got one. Citizens are already proving we can overrun the police. With more time we can overrun the national guard. Key example of somebody who's done this, Che Guevera. He and his guerillas overran many Cuban cities to try and dismantle the dictatorship. He failed but the lesson from him is never keep your back turned for one minute whilst in revolution. I don't support the military because it's just a matter of time before the war hits home and it's us against them. Blame the government and their pro war propaganda: "defend your country" bullshit. The states are another British empire. They only care about territoriality. And they use the military to do that by brainwashing the troops to kill and die for oil. Next it'll be kill or die to defend your government, which is corrupt as fuck.

But yet with all this evidence to prove police departments across this country's injustices, people still support the idea that it's all okay. So by that means you must also think it's okay to go to war with other countries for oil and other stupid and unjustified reasons, destroy buildings with bombs but yet it's not okay to actively make a statement? I agree though that what we are seeing now is nothing but mindless violence, that is what the media wants everyone to see. People just robbing and looting because it's "acceptable" during this sort of chaos. There is no real agenda. And that is stupid. But what I'm saying is the smart thing to do is make real statements not just mindless violence. By taking out the institutions that fund this mess of cop on citizen mentality. And still people like to say that "This is America! Stop rioting! Act the way Americans are supposed to act!" the fact "this is america" is everything fundamental to what is going on. They're saying it as if though that because we are Americans we need to behave a certain way. If we acted that way with the British there would be a union jack on our flag. Not stars and stripes. But fuck the flag, it represents all of this unjustifiable tyranny that this police state america supports. So therefore by taking action with an actual mindset will be of use. But there's no point currently because they won't listen to reason. Save the maps of revolution for the next time.

LAMENT FOR A BLOSSOM by Colin Mulholland

  
I

The silence of winds, harsh and chill from the night past have overall vanished. I awake from slumber's grimmace under not of the greatest conditions, but digression insists for I am alive. Not a bit of light exists in the musk of my room, it is too dark here. But the insightfullness of a young girl's playful scream rouses the senses to awaken, the obviousness of this omen is clear: Today is anew. In the tunure of my twenty-three years of life, I've finally began my journey into the world of artistry as a writer, of sheer independence from collegial institutions for I need them not. The lessons of life and nature are not embedded in the walls of institutions but rather in the atmosphere of nature's embrace of a beautiful sunday afternoon. No plans, just the decadence of spontaneity. A quick shower to keen the senses, but I fast as punishment for dietary sins. Like Buddha under the Bodhi tree, I am the Buddha under the Bodhi tree of neglect. I step into the sunlight, there is no preperation for this-for the sun has been absent for the sum of one week. April is a drearily bleak month, in preperation for May flowers (the addage goes). But from here, the sky is nothing but blue. As I reached the final set of stairs I spoke not a word, I am silence. I bid a short farewell to the elegance of my apartment in the Irish district I find appeasing my needs.

The concrete stairs are no longer under my feet, but under my feet they shall remain, as by my feet (and as by everybody else) the matter of all things are connected. I am you as you are me-and I am the imagery to which my camera does capture the still of life as matter. For keep's sake. I take the path that leadeth me to the familiarties of conscious thought, it is simpler to remember the things you cannot forget. I cannot forget the first of many encounters, with which my aquintence to the scent of cherry blossoms would meet me on this day until the very end. The first to mask the unruly scent of charcoal brickettes that upset the senses briefly amongst the field I walk of green and purple lilac. The air was heavy for that brief moment but then came, laden, in all it's glory-the redemption of the senses. The tree overgrew from the gentleman's yard and, lo, dangled over the property. I reached out my gentle hand to embrace the tree's might-if not, for the serenity of one brief interval. Then the interval exceeded it's length and I kept true (North) and proceeded to tread upon the hill that overlooked the Irish neighborhood in it's entirety, gave the overall structural integrity one last glance and didn't look back.

The park is hilly and deep, old and rugged. Beautiful with it's age. Trees provide shade where necessary, sunbeams of amber and Boston cream through the leaf like crevices. The brick pathways repetitive "MISSOURI BLOCK, MISSOURI BLOCK, MISSOURI BLOCK" all the way down the set of hills until sand embanks the end and the rest is bastard concrete. It is there my journey leads me northwestern, it is amongst this criteria where the ruins of old Irish industry lays waste. The sight of abandoned factories, aged by rust in all it's obtuse girth-spells the history of this neighorhood's industrial past. The neighborhood's sorroundings gives me a clearer percentage to the downfall of an Irish majority district to which the only remaining industry of the Irish is the pathetic strip of pubs that allign one another on the same street. My Irish blood boils when I dwell on the thought of all the jobs my fellow bretheren lost. As the street curves back North I cut a right, at first in the eastern direction, followed by another curve back into the direction of Northeast where history has repeated itself on many occasion.

The letters read "TKE", the fraternity of frat boy Nazi's on the 14'th street block in which I've made myself known by the minor desecrations of property in the matter of broken glass. A young lady in obvious nightly wear grabs the mail, she stops and gazes upon me for a quick second, she is a fine looking lass with raven hair and pale skin. An obvious victim to the life of frat house chaos for it is written in her exausted features. Me in my blue shirt, black beret (with yin yang button on top), tartan (plaid) blue button up (unbuttoned) black pants, thick black glasses and thong sandals-shared a relatively short exchange of eye contact with her, then it was gone. I made my way to the campus of the college a short walk ahead. I made my leave from the desolate wasteland of drunken frat debauchery. It wreiked of eletist sex and bad decisions. How I longed to regain the scent of cherry blossom, with great decadence my longing was short lived. For it appears, my friends, there are no shortage of these trees in this part of town and, lo, I beheld the elegance of that second tree. In it's might, I held that moment for as long as one could and once more I proceeded onward, bidding farewell twice to the elegance of the pink and white petals and tiny flowers.

One way street heading northeast, I stand on the corner as I wait for oncoming automobiles to make their leave and gain access to cross the street. As I reach the campus of the college I take note to the drastic change in appearence. In the aforementioned frat boy wasteland, the barrens of macho insecure males in their poorly kept houses, painted a picture of the clear desolation and lack of care-over the well being of their environemnt. And "their chosen whores" for the night, reign supreme in anti feminist stupors, clans of young women giving up self preservation and dignities for a night of carelessness. Sexually diseased by the cruel joke of this pathetic culture. The scenery now is one of determined young minds in all their glory buzzing like the busy bee's of great Athenian descendency. Beautiful young ladies in springtime clothing carrying books in one hand and cups of coffee in the other, some with blushing young smiles of such virginity of the mind. While the others scurry across campus in haste, either worried by time restraints in fear of tardiness, or sheer eagerness to make it to their dorm to enrich her young mind in knowledge. I make my way across the campus but stop to capture the gaggle of geese waddling their way across the campus grass with my camera. Their large beaks lapping up puddles of still fresh rain water leftover from the rains this past week. I check my camera to make sure the shots were perfect. I regain compusure of my unplanned objective and carry on, but stop to mentally to remind myself to never forget what I had just witnessed.

　
II


Young men skateboarding by the tire store. Jumping the median which seperates the store's property from church parking lot (Funny commentary on church and state). The big red Firestone sign blazes in the sun with bright reflection. One of the young men is wearing a cowboy hat, couldn't stick the landing on board but lands on his feet. Cameraman films it all in hope he captures something astounding. Guy in background across the street watching it all is me, nothing astounding about what I am seeing. Impressive? Very, but I've seen better from friends of mine. I'm standing on the corner of sixth street and second avenue. Waiting for the light to change. Cedar Rapids lights are the fucking same.

I finally cross over to the Margerette Bock Housing Unit where friend lives. I havent talked to him in weeks, last voicemail I got said his old lady was fucking boss. Left him. Cheating was weak. Not her fault, kid's an asshole. Not his fault, kind of mental anyways. Both at fault. Both have anger issues up the ass. I rang his buzzer, no answer. Continue this ritual til I grab a phone and call him. Phone's off. Leave the kid a message. Hang up. Bastard anyhow. Old man let's me in. Much obliged. Knock on his door. No answer. Knock louder. Drunk next door coughs up tobacco smoke. Knock once more. No answer. Bastard anyhow.

Leave the apartment building in pissed mood. Never around when I need him. I head down second avenue towards same interesection I was before. Different side. Same difference. Skaters are still there trying. Determination. Not suiting them well. Head down second ave til' I hit the corner by Art Museum. Wonderful place. Great Anti-War photo exhibit in February 2014. Standing at stoplight by Cedar Rapids Gazette. Scumfuck newspaper I hope to write for some day. Don't ask why. I cross street and hit a hard left. Libraries open today. Had no clue. Try checking out book on Charles Manson and another on evolution (Another funny commentary on humanity). Give card, rejected. I owe money, how? Never late, never overdue. Systems trying to fuck me. Labeled delinquent. Put books down and walk out. Retrospective was kinda fucked anyway.

Gather thoughts. Pick self up and head back home. Made one last stop before hand. Scottish Rite Temple. Free Masons. Gave'em the finger. Walked away. No blossoms in this concrete jungle.
III


The sandals on my feet had officially started to hurt, the painful blistering can drive a man mad if this journey had lasted days-but I can handle a few hours. I reached once more the bend where the pathetic industry of Irish pubs still remain. The sun was high and I was sweating through my beret, I was glad this long walk was finally reaching it's end but deeply troubled by it's end as well, for as I reached the park with it's brick pathway I had once walked before-I remember that I had once stood atop of this park with it's steep and high hills and looked upon my surroundings with admiration and had not looked back. At least not for very long, for I knew this path of mine would only bring me back. Rather than take the park back home, I therefore decided it would be a great distinction to walk among the neighborhoods behind this Irish district to see how the other half lives. I had to advance over one more roll of hilly streets before I reached this modern colonial village. I breathed in the air it had to offer. The air hinted the old cedar of the houses in which they were originally constructed, I savored that scent. But there was still the one scent that remained amiss in my journey. Twice I had this pleasure, but I had nary a thought in my head that thrice an accounter would present itself. The notion was immediately cut bait.

Never before had I once been presented the attributes of this neighborhood in daylight, at night I had wondered but night does not always hold the key beauty of imagery. Night holds the beauty of slumber, in that dialect, the beauty of seclusion presents itself. Seclusion is great, but seldom to an extent. It is not wise to be secluded for long. Just when it is needed. In light the neighborhood gleams, black iron gates, and white pickets merely enforce this majority white stereotype. The architecture merely fabricates laziness with every second house looking the same to the prior. It is no surprise to me in this aspect of Americana. I glance upon these nice homes in their silent glory. I notice one home has a busted lamp post, to which my mind produced a theorem that even in decadence there is a sliver of poverty. Amongst that poverty, thrice into my tale, the saddest of sights thine eyes could see. Barren of it's branches, the cherry blossom's petals had ceased to remain amongst the tree. It's scent no longer sweet, it's scent reigned a vain stiffness. The stiffness that comes with age, the one we all must face as it is the cross we are to bare. I gently treaded across, giving my journey it's innevitable end, more importantly, I gave the petals one last glance, and didn't look back.
END

MIRRORS by Colin Mulholland

My theorem: What if you're not the face in the mirror-but the mirror itself, so your appearance is not actually yours but the person you were replicating? Therefore in theory, are we actually the faces mirrors project or the images our mind perceives us as? In return our face is what others see us as and therefore replicating the same theory to the individual human being?

MURDER by Colin Mulholland

On the street, in your homes, in a school, in a movie theater, in the country side, at the office, at a bank, in any place or of any form = ILLEGAL But yet; Young men and womyn are signing up for the army each day in hope of a promised "Better future" into which they get shipped off to a foreign country with intent to kill for a cause, whether known or unknown (pending on if the government gives any liable cause) Whether it's "National Defense" or "Self defense" from the get go these young people are going in with the mindset "Kill" whether in the instinct of self defense or so called "Carried out orders to shoot on sight- shoot to kill" = LEGAL.
A man shoots, stabs, prods, chops the head off of etc.. an animal (Pigs, Cows, Chickens, Lamb, etc...) for the purpose that they want to use the "Meat" (aka muscles) and pelt to which in society is NOT labeled manslaughter because animals are not men ("Men") for the purpose of trade within or even outside of capitalism= LEGAL.
How is it that we can define murder between legal, and illegal? How can be murder be legal in the first place? Whether to a human being or to an animal, isn't the old adage "Thou shalt not kill"? Whether you are religious or not, even the stupidest of people can agree that murder is B, A, D, BAD!. With the depiction of murder in film, video games, and television being more constant these days it's not surprising that children who do not have these things explained to them and the mentally ill who are not supervised can take murder and have a terribly askewed view of it. (IE: The child who played halo for days straight without sleep and ended up murdering his parents, and the mentally ill man who shot Lennon because he was "Inspired" by 'Catcher in the Rye')
Recently I watched a documentary on the film rating system's fucked up policies called "This film is not yet rated". In it directors and writers such as Kevin Smith, John Waters, & Matt Stone, of the three Kevin Smith agreed that he finds violence and womyn in distress (about to be murdered or raped) to be more offensive than sex in film. The Europeans feel the same way, they allow more sensual sexual acts to be shown in films because it is a part of human nature. As opposed to murder which is immoral. Somehow America feels the opposite way. With stiff upper lip liberals, conservatives, and Christians opposing most forms of film because "Oh my god there's a woman's breast in this film!" Well try telling that to the Romans and the Greeks and the French who in the 1700's before film and picture was even invented painted pictures of nude women because it was a form of naturality and art. But this is besides my point...
My point is, why should one form of murder be acceptable and legal (such also as the death penalty) and the other form be illegal. All murder is immoral when committed in the act of hate and war. There are those who argue "animals kill all the time!" Though this is true, animals (Besides monkeys, elephants, dolphins and the Orca whale) have no sense of real morality. It's their nature. As for humans, we are the only species who are aware of our someday dying. Unlike animals who only know momentary death. Humans are more capable of evil, and the knowing of what they do. AND THAT INCLUDES MURDER.

"Murder" By: Colin Mulholland.

I GONZO by Colin Mulholland

"I classify myself as a Gonzo journalist. In Gonzo you don't conform to the traditional aspects of journalism, which uses lies to tell the truth, or sources to back your claims. Everything you say is said because you know you've read it, or distinctly seen it and heard it. It has been circulating therefore the moment it is said the reaction you get is synonymous. In Gonzo things are done on the account that it needs to be done. You just go for it, you don't need a higher authority to give you permission, you are your own authority and need permission from no one. Anyone familiar with Hunter S. Thompson are sure to understand this ideology." -Colin Mulholland.

FACEBOOK'S WAR ON JOURNALISM by Colin Mulholland

It shouldn't be too unknown of a fact that Facebook are THE capitalists of virtual egotism. It was even said by Mark Zuckerberg's character (played by Jesse Eisenberg) in the 2010 biographical film "The Social Network", "Who's having sex, who isn't having sex" was the original vision of Facebook's early beginnings as an underground web page for Harvard students (Zuckerberg's college before later dropping out). But what isn't a well known fact is, as of 2011 under president Obama's NDAA (National Defense Act of America) the United States government gave the NSA (National Security Agency) the okay to partner up with Zuckerberg and Facebook to start the surveillence and search and seizure of personal photos and messages. This came following the crisis over the NSA's partnership with Verizon Wireless and their tapping/ surveillence of customer's phones. If it were not for Edward Snowden, none of this information would have been leaked to  journalists allover the world INCLUDING the New York TImes who have had several of their journalists jailed for using said information and giving it to the public. But sadly you cannot jail the truth. Millions of people are being previewed to the truth every day and are finally standing up and doing something about it. Whether it's through protests, music or through writing books or blogs (like yours truly) the oppurtunities are endless when it comes to exposing the governments OBVIOUSLY not so well hidden phenomena.
According to Amber Lyon, author of the book "Peace, Love and Pepper Spray" President Obama's war on  journalism began on December 31'st 2011 when after lying to the public by stating he would "veto the NDAA's indefinite-detention clauses. Instead, he surreptitiously signed the NDAA into law while most Americans were distracted celebrating New Year's Eve." (Amber Lyon is a three time Emmy award winning journalist and photographer who use to work for CNN.) The NDAA has alot to do with cops seizing phones from Americans who are filming police brutality, including Ramsey Orta the 22 year NYC man who is currently serving time in Rikers Island Prison prison on drug and gun charges, which, are just a scapegoat for his involvment in filming the NYPD's involvment in Eric Garner's murder.  (I will not rest until my voice is heard, Eric Garner's death is avenged and Ramsey Orta is free from prison!) This is both the plus and negative side of social media. On the one hand you are exposing the system for who they really are, but it is the same system watching every move and breath you make/ take.
My first glimpse into the NDAA came at the point when the whole argument about the guy from Duck Dynasty dissapproving of gay marriage came about. People were so damn focused on that situation, that they weren't paying attention to the fact that at that very moment gun rights were being violated.  I have stated this many times to people I know, Obama supporters always crack me up. I remember hearing from several (un-named for safety) people I knew who supported him about how he's going to ban guns. And then there were all the jerks on random Facebook pages who would say things like "Obama's gonna take your fucking guns away you stupid rednecks!" (which mind you not all gun owners are rednecks). Then all of a sudden these off duty ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms) agents were coming to gun owner's houses unwarrantedly, and they would be the ones getting arrested. There were over a thousand of these situations being reported until one day it came to a cease fire (so to speak). Then the Obama supporters had new curtains on the house and were saying "Obama isn't trying to ban guns... why does everybody think he hates guns?" Now, I don't own a gun, nor do I wish to. But as a man who supports the very idea of all freedoms of our constitution, I do support the second ammendment, on this basis. You cannot support freedom of speech if you cannot support the right to bear arms. If you demand one be banned, than you are no better than the government trying to be rid of all our civil liberties. This small taste into the NDAA was what made me curious. Then the banners kept unfolding (more into that later in another piece I'm writing. "What to expect when you're unexpecting: The NDAA, Obamacare, and The War on Freedom").
This piece I am writing today is in response to my own experiance with not only Facebook's war on independent journalism, but Facebook's war on their members. For example, for unexplained and unjust reasons I have been restricted from creating more pages on Facebook. This comes after an unexpected and unforeseen error occurred after making a flyer for my friends Indocile/ Faces Turned Ashen's show last July (2014). Whilst on the FTA page my computer started acting funny than exited out of internet explorer altogether. Since, the only page I've been able to have is my music page for Mulholland  (Previously Fatty Talltree) my Colin's Punk Rock Central page, a page that interviewed bands and reviewed albums, which I worked my ass off on was taken away from me. I sent two appeals last year and have gotten nothing except my Mulholland page back. Which was a start. Today I have sent three appeals and will continue to send more throughout the next few years until my demands are met. This war on journalistic freedom needs to end!

"Facebook Kills Independent Journalists" By Colin Mulholland.

"I SAW" by Colin Mulholland

"I Saw"
(Art ("Free Ramsey Orta") and Poem) by Colin Mulholland

I saw my fellow man in danger,
I saw my fellow man die.
I watched as the NYPD,
Strangle him alive.
I used my rights as a fellow American,
To alert the world of danger.
Now to constant struggle,
In my life is no stranger.
They follow me,
They Accuse me,
Waiting for a slip.
Until the day they caught me,
Carrying an unregistered clip.
The second amendment has been impeded,
The laws are not the same.
So now I cannot protect myself,
From the criminally insane.
I sit in a cell,
I sit in a living hell,
The food is spiked with poison.
The food is now an enemy,
I'd rather starve to death,
Than know they're out to get me.
What I did I thought was right,
What was right I thought I did.
I filmed my fellow brother die,
Now the world cannot forgive.
The cops are out to get us,
The cops are out for blood.
The cops are too fucking scared,
Cos we are capable of...
Knowledge for power,
Plans of revolution.
It's time to end the violence,
It's time for evolution.

This poem is written and dedicated to Ramsey Orta. The 22 year old from New York City now in Riker's Island Prison for video taping the NYPD choking Eric Garner to death. Orta's case is only proof that America is becoming more and more of a massive police state, powered by president Obama's war on journalistic freedom.

SEXISM SELLS by Colin Mulholland

  Man-Woman. What defines these words? If I could give any sort of definition, I would say that the two words are scientifically representative of the classification of sex at birth. The biggest problems regarding the two are that they are commonly used to label and generalize a human being to the idea that because they are defined by their sex that they have certain positions and "jobs" to be done because they are of that sex. This would be classified as Gender Rolling. And quite frankly, it is a rather outdated testament to modern society, since society is an ever changing specimen subjected to evolution.

  Man: Strong, muscular, drives a fast car, hunts (murder), owns a business and gets his sand-which after intercoarse. Woman (Womyn): The cooker, the baker, the cleaner, the carrier of the man's offspring for nine beautiful but grueling months, the maker of said man's sand-which after intercoarse. This is society's outlook on how men and women are to behave. Purely subjection. The majority of gender role stereotypes (mainly coming from the media) are cleverly written into mediums such as movies, television, commercials, magazines, music and so on. The idea that the media projects these roles on men and women (and let's not exclude the children) is the exact mission of capitalist corporations to sell their colognes, their body washes, after shaves, razors, shaving creams and so much more. Because of it's appeal, certain products are subjected to be either for men or women. Companies never have a singular thought of making unisex products because keeping products segregated by sex brings in the most monetary.

   WARNING: This next paragraph is not for those who were past or present boy/ girl scouts/ or leaders FOR I COLIN MULHOLLAND DO NOT SUPPORT THE BOY OR GIRL SCOUTS OF AMERICA. "*Gasp!* Colin how could you!? Think about the children!" RELAX! I am thinking about the children. In recent years the Boyscouts of America have taken some heat from the news media over it's breeding of homophobic boys. RESPECTIVELY! They are a "private" organization. BUT MORALLY STANDING the idea that these activities that are supposed to teach boys skills to rely on in the wild are, yes, to an extent useful- but can (in hindsight) be declared sexist and gender role forcing. Even for the Girl Scouts. Baking, and selling cookies, which has always been a rather harmless activity of little girls, in context can be the most sexist of all. The Girl Scouts, as everyone knows, are most well known for their cookies, while the Boy Scouts have been known for their popcorn. Food stuffs in which were not made by the Girl Scouts nor the Boy Scouts, but by machines on conveyer belts which are ran by minimum wage workers in some factory located in East Jesus Nowhere. Even if they were made by the Scouts, that would be considered child labor and is illegal. Which is why they don't do it in the first place. But you know damn well if they could they would.
In defense, some may argue that the girl scouts support all these causes organized by small charities, I was even once told that the Girl Scouts are actually accepting of transgender females. Which is great! But these causes are nothing but self image mediums. Mediums that make the public view on both scout organizations good. A smoke screen to make people unaware that all these things are nothing more than capitalism. The sad reality is, the scouts are nothing but a trademark and therefore the people at corporate do not care about these children, just their blind allegiance to the entrepreneurship of capitalism. The only people who really care about the children throughout both organizations are the parents and Scout Leaders who know and share the experiance of Scouthood. For that I must pay the utmost respect. But I sadly must still oppose, for the pattern of sexist behaviour is forever rooted and cannot be broken unless someone steps up and finally has the courage to say "This isn't right."
  Overall, Men-Women: you can be whatever you want to be, do what you want to do, say what needs to be said, and do what you feel is right in your heart NOT because of what society, OR even what I believe! Your sex is soo much more than what's been "embedded" in our biological make up. UNITY BETWEEN SEX IS THE OVERALL POWER TO END ALL PREJUDICES! Because sex does not judge you by color, by looks, or by the sum of your parts...