Showing posts with label prison without trial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prison without trial. Show all posts

Sunday, 30 June 2013

Democracy And Prison Without Trial.



       We are all aware that the state makes rules to defend itself, and punishes those who break those rules, but we also know that it has no problem with breaking those rules when ever it suits the state apparatus. On June 29 in Athens more that 6,000 people took to the streets in solidarity with Kostas Sakkas, who has been on hunger strike since June 4. Kostas is an anarchist who has been in prison for two and half years without trial, when the Greek state says that 18 months is the legal limit anyone can be held without trial. There has been demonstrations in solidarity with Kostas in cities across the world. In Lisbon on June 27 over 400 posters appeared and hundreds of fliers thrown around and pasted on walls in support of Kostas, during a demonstration in support of a call for a general strike in Portugal.
        Our babbling brook of bullshit, the mainsteam media, will always trumpet such cases when they are taking place in some far away country that Western capitalism doesn't like, but are silent on this case which is right here in Europe. How can there be justice for the people when one party makes up the rules as it goes along, then breaks them at will.
       State repression manifests itself in many ways from locking people up without trial, to dictating your standard of living. It can "legally" destroy the quality of your education system and empoverish your health service, while protecting the wealth and power of the few, and call it democracy. If we the people want freedom, one thing that stands in our way is the state. It represses it own people and then marches them off to some war, where the ordinary people are meant to start killing ordinary people of some other country, with the spoils of war going to that pampered parasitical few who hold the levers of power in the "victorious" state.
        Across the world there are many Kostas Sakkas languishing in state prisons and their only crime is that they will not be repressed by the brutal state. So across the world, let us call for the release of all Kostas Sakkas's and an end to the state.

PATRIOTISM.

No, I shall not die for the fluttering flag,
if truth be known, ‘tis nothing but a multi-coloured rag
held aloft by some foolish hand
inciting worker and peasant to kill
on some green and wooded hill,
peasant and worker from some other land.
Nor shall I shed blood for the fluttering rag
that brings out fools to stand and brag
of brutal deeds painted grand,
deeds where rustic and craftsman lie so still
killed by my brothers' misguided hand.


No allegiance have I for the Nation
this man made autocratic creation
that divides my brothers in a world so small,
binds us to a country's cause, right or wrong,
bids us follow its drum, sing its song,
then sheds our blood in some border brawl.
No, I'll be no slave to flag or nation,
have no ear for power oration,
though its iron heel is on my breast,
my back feels its leather thong,
at patriotism's barracoon, I'll be no guest.


Thursday, 20 December 2012

PRISON WITHOUT TRIAL.


       Of course we in the democratic West know that it is only in those foreign countries with nasty dictators that you can be held in prison for months without being arrested or charged. Well that's the picture our babbling brook of bullshit spew out on an daily basis. After all that's what democracy is all about due process done fairly and openly with as little delay as possible. If we are not getting that, then it can be said it is a totalitarian regime. In that case we in the West fall well short of the "democracy" mark.
       This is an extract from just one such case of nasty dictator regime in some foreign land called America.
  The visiting room of the SeaTac Federal Detention Center is bleak. Prison is supposed to be bleak, but it's difficult to appreciate how bleak it is until you've walked inside—past the grim security checkpoint, the sallow-faced chaplain with the giant keys hanging from his pants, the many heavy doors that slam shut behind you like a metal thunderclap, the off-white walls and institutional lighting that seem to suck the color out of everyone's hair and clothes, the frosted-over windows to block any view of the outside world, and into the visiting room with its plastic chairs arranged in sets of four with a guard sitting in a high booth, presiding over the room like a bored judge.
And the waiting. Lots and lots of waiting.
Read the full article HERE:

ann arky's home.