outwait outrun outwit


an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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Tens of thousands protest in Genoa against the G-8 Summit. Police violence result in one confirmed death.

Sadly, I'm not surprised that the police are present to protect those in power--the few who convene to inflict economic (and social) iniquity upon the (mostly non-Western) majority of the world.


Jails, not schools apparently (Old news, too):

"The BOC (Board of Corrections) allocated $131 million . . . to build or renovate juvenile jails throughout the state. It also rejected funding for a 210-bed juvenile hall in Alameda County only to give this money instead to a similar project in Sacramento."



You are living, although precariously, in a mostly insulated world that is contingent upon your relative privileges as a university student living in Berkeley. In this fragile utopia, the constants are dexterous imaginations, ceaseless transformation, and crazy smart beautiful people who confess that they think that life could only get better.

But step outside and the utopia vanishes. A dream, Dorothy, it was only a dream. Thumbing through articles, those downy fledgling babes of history (monster or . . . ), you can only bite your lip, frowning, while, elsewhere, blood branches scarlet on pavement.

"The five permanent members of the United Nations security council, charged with maintaining world peace, also happen to be the world's five principal arms traders."

What will you do when you read another new-to-you harrowing fact? Grit your teeth? And when a photograph snags your eye (yet again), what will you do as you gaze upon what has been ignited by dangerous games and dangerous emotions and dangerous people? Look away? Or strike dangerous yourself?


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