History is a Weapon

http://www.historyisaweapon.com/defcon1/langston.html

Prophet of the Revolution

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2006/jul/14/poetry.comment

Great book on Ali reviewed

http://www.dooyoo.co.uk/printed-books/muhammad-ali-thomas-hauser/

Excellent Autobiography by Brando

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Songs_My_Mother_Taught_Me_(book)

Photos of Paris Commune

http://www.marxistsfr.org/history/france/paris-commune/images/index.htm

Susan Sontag "On Photography"

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Susan_Sontag

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Photography




Debate on the book

http://www.medialit.org/reading_room/article355.html

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m2479/is_n5_v25/ai_20582788/

Refugee Blues

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you'll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that.

The consul banged the table and said,
"If you've got no passport you're officially dead":
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said;
"If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread":
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying, "They must die":
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews.

Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors:
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

WH Auden