Fifty years ago, the democracies of the world stood up as allies to fight injustice and fascism. After their victory, the world, to it's horror, discovered the extent of the genocide and the crimes against humanity that were committed by the Axis powers. It was announced that this type of thing would never be allowed to happen again and the United Nations was born.
Today, in 1993, we are witnessing and documenting in the former Yugoslovia, crimes against humanity. Atrocities and genocide unparralled in modern history, committed by the Serbian nation against the peoples of Croatia, Slovenia and Bosnia. These crimes consist of such things as the mass raping of women and children, holding them in special "rape" camps to insure that they give birth to Serbian babies, using rape as a weapon of war, the mass murder of the sick and wounded in hospitals, the intentional wholesale slaughter of civilian populations, the creation and maintenance of concentration camps where human beings are held and subjected to barbaric and inhumane treatment, the intentional and systematic destruction of entire cities and villages, the use of starvation and depravation as tools of mass murder, the interference and prevention of relief efforts on the behalf of the victims, and lastly and finally, human genocide under the name of "ethnic cleansing.".
All of these crimes are well documented and reported world wide, which brings me to my question. How and why is this allowed to happen and continue to happen in full view of the world? Where are the voices of protest? Where are the Voices of past victims of genocide and injustice? Where are the voices of the Jewish people, of the Armenians, of the Afro-Amercians, of the native-Amercians, of the Muslims? When will the protest come? Have we as a species truly reached such a low point that we will turn our backs and cover our eyes and ears to such monstrous acts? Is there any humanity left in this world? Is anyone out there? Is anyone listening? Does anyone care?
America, which went to war for the right reasons 50 years ago and in recent history has gone to war at the drop of a hat over oil or for the interests of big business now refuses to intervene in Bosnia, They will not help arm the Bosnians so they can die fighting , nor will they even consider increasing the sanctions against the Serbs on the grounds that their "allies", Britain and Russia, are against it. This cowardly act, I believe is a death sentence for the millions of Bosnian people who have somehow managed to survive up till now.
The message it sends to the Serbs is even more horrifying to me as it tells them that the United States, Britain, and Russia will make sure that no one interferes with their finishing what they started.
I am a poor person and cannot afford to send this letter to many newspapers or other people, but as human being, father, and proud citizen of the U.S. I could not live with the shame and cowardice if I did not go on the record to protest and to do something, anything to try and stop this genocide.
Thank you for your time,
Don Wheeler
Corruption also implies degeneration, rot and decay. Much like the story of the Emperor and his new clothes, The President, transparent to all except his sycophant clones, speaks to us. Deluded with self righteous ignorance, he speaks with the arrogance of someone who, as if by magic, the very act of speaking words would make them true. In fact he tells one lie after another. Dull lies, slicing the truth to bits, like a razor in the hand of a deranged person would slash an old master painting, destroying it in order to steal it's beauty, these lies cut into the very fabric of our society, shredding the very fabric we need to bind our wounds. As a nation we are suffering uncontrolled bleeding caused by these lies. One lie following another. each lie compounding itself but necessary to cover previous lies long forgotten. He speaks, like a slight of hand magician, trying to misdirect his audience with false and misleading subjects, He tries to define us as a sex, as a race, as a set of family values. Corruption as a cancer in politics acts like a hungry tiger , stalking a herd of wild pigs, it's natural prey. The tiger, as a beast of prey, does not want the smallest or the weakest, it wants the biggest, fattest pig it can find and catch.
The cancer I speak of, Is the cancer of corruption, of the personal, moral and political corruption that infects our society from the top down. When the president speaks with the authority of his office, it has the effect on me of listening to a pathological liar. For his office, his honesty, his personal integrity, has in my opinion, been bought and sold so many times that they are completely worn out, misused and destroyed like an old pair of socks, never washed or changed, so abused the soles rotted away long ago, with only the stench remaining.
Corruption seeks the highest levels of power. Drawn by the stench of rotting morals it feeds on living truth, common decency and justice. with a diabolical single mindness it begins to reproduce it's self. Growing more obese and bloated it eventually destroys every thing it has touched and infects anything near it. With it's food supply thus exhausted it then turns on it's self in a masochistic suicidal frenzy.
The president speaks and says in essence, if I am not with him then I am against him. What ever happened to Democracy? I say. Is it now sold to the highest bidder? Don't I have a choice anymore? Did I somehow miss the announcement when they told us, democracy was being replaced with corporate fascism for our own good ? What's happened to my vote ? Did I forget to bribe the right person to get it counted ? Or is blindness and ignorance the reason this man holds the most powerful office in the entire history of man. Was it merely ignorance that misplaced my vote, or was it the cynical and conscious manipulation of the truth that caused the voters to squander their rights out of ignorance and fear. You the reader may think of me as an alarmist and your right. It's so fantastic! you say, what if I am wrong? To this my fellow citizens, I say, What if I am right? In the 1930's the "good" citizens of Germany said, "It cant happen here" Yet It did happen there. We now find ourselves in the position of saying the same thing in a democratic republic whose leaders are taking away our rights and guaranteed freedoms a little bit at a time so we hardly notice the loss "These are the 90's" you say, "not the 30's", "we have safeguards"! I wish to point out that both Mr. Bush and Hr. Hitler were voted into office by popular support in a democratic states, and both were selected for there roles by powerful corporate and industrial sponsors.
It was the Nazi propaganda genius Dr. Goebells who said "tell the people a big enough lie and they will belive it " It is my belief that the powers that are , have plans and programs in store for us that are grotesque and inescapable. Things we dare not to belive for the truth of them is to utterly terrifying to live with.
This book is about doublespeak. In it the author defines, traces, and illustrates the use of this device by communicators to limit thought, defend the indefensible, make lies sound truthful, and give importance to the insignificant. Doublespeak is the language (weapon) of choice used by the military, the government, in politics, and in political campaigning. Since what these groups do affects us all in profound and lasting ways it is of utmost importance that their communications are clearly stated and understood. Sadly, this is not common practice. Therefore it is incumbent upon us as citizens of a democracy to be aware of what doublespeak is, to recognize how and why it is used, to denounce it as evasion, and lastly, to demand the truth.
Since most of the mass media is supported and financed through advertising of one form or another, and most advertising relies (no pun intended) on carefully crafted forms of doublespeak, this book relates directly to the study of mass communication. Doublespeak has been in use as long as man has had a need to lie and has been clever enough to devise a way of doing it with out seeming to, or of covering it up. Doublespeak is a very conscious use of language as a weapon or a tool. "It is language that pretends to communicate but really doesn't. It uses language to make the bad seem good, the negative appear positive, and the unpleasant appear attractive or at least tolerable. It is the careful selection and use of words that avoids or shifts responsibility, words that conceals or prevents thought; Rather than extending or stimulating thought doublespeak limits it. Doublespeak is the use of language that is carefully designed to mislead, distort, deceive, inflate, circumvent and obfuscate the truth." (quotes taken out of context) The author first defines double speak and how to spot it, then go's on to define four types of doublespeak; Euphemism, Jargon, Gobbledygook or Bureaucratese, and inflated language. He traces the use of doublespeak through history, pausing only to pay well deserved homage to George Orwell. He refers to, or quotes Orwell on at least nine separate occasions in the book. In fact he ends the first chapter with the idea that perhaps "the world of 1984, with It's control of reality through language, is upon us."
The premise of the book seems to be that " doublespeak is insidious in that it can infect and eventually destroy the function of language, which is communication between people and social groups. That this corruption of the function of language can have serious and far reaching consequences." The book progresses on to describe and illustrate different categories of doublespeak as used in military, business, education, politics , and political advertising. In the section titled the doublespeak of everyday living he cites the use of doublespeak in industries such as airlines, food, medicine, and nebular power. He also shows how doublespeak is used in charts and graphs. The remaining chapters deal in more detail with how doublespeak is used in Government, the Military, Advertising, Business communication, and how doublespeak is used around the world.
This book and it's subject matter relate in almost every instance to the subjects studied in my mass communication class. I now realize the importance and relevance of the subject as it relates to my understanding of communication and the mass media. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, especially the references to George Orwells works. I found the book to be both credible and significant, Informative and stimulating. In fact it is even a book that I would go to the trouble to buy. I feel lucky that it was the one I happened to pick from the library to make my report on.
The gift of foresight had happened before and it was never wrong. The last time it happened, I was entering the freeway on an on ramp. It was about 3 in the morning and traffic was almost nonexistent. I could see a group of cars approaching, still some distance away. I was about to enter when I saw the vision of a huge skull floating above the glare of their headlights. It was an unmistakable vision of death and it was coming from that particular group of cars. My normal strategy in freeway driving was to ride within a group of cars so that I would not be picked out for speeding by the police, which would happen If I was driving alone in the open. After seeing this vision of Death, I knew what it meant and slowed down. I waited for the group of cars to pass me and let them get about a quarter of a mile ahead before I actually got on the freeway . My passenger asked me what was wrong and I told him "nothing, It's just those dammed cars!" My Royal Enfield was capable of doing 140+ mph but I made no attempt to pass those three cars let alone drive amongst them. After a short space of time had elapsed the car in the center lane , driven by a drunk, swerved in front of the car in the left lane, was hit by him and caused his car to spin round and round, out of control across all of the freeway lanes, hitting the other car in the group. He came to a stop by crashing into the side rail of the freeway. I stopped my bike and jumped off to run up to the car to see if I could help but my legs were shaking so badly I could barely walk let alone run. He managed to restart his car and took off with the other two cars in pursuit. Since all of this happened at 60+ mph it was some sort of miracle that no one was killed, not to mention the fact that all of the cars were still operable. The real miracle is that if I had been riding on a motorcycle in the middle of traffic when this occurred, I and my passenger would most certainly have been killed but were able to avoid this by my defensive action. Now it had happened again and it disturbed me greatly. I had to do something about it but did not have a clue as to what to do. I felt death was unavoidable and there was no where to hide from it. I thought that if I went home and hid that a motor would fall off of an airplane , through the roof of my house crushing me and I would die anyway, no matter what I tried. I made the decision to face life (or death) in the face and get on with my life, regardless of the vision. I drove to San Francisco according to my original plan. The only thing I did differently was to drive extremely carefully and defensively. If I approached an intersection, even if I had the right of way I would stop and look carefully in both directions before proceeding through it. I stopped at the intersection, looked both ways and proceeded trough. I did not see the car being driven down the hill by the drunken driver because he was driving so fast he was still out of my sight when I started to move trough the intersection. When I reached the middle of the intercession, we collided.
The impact threw me into his car breaking my pelvis in three places. I was then thrown up in the air, cartwheeling, end over end, over his car only to land flat on the small of my back onto a large metal cable car, cable cover, breaking my back in five places. I also received in this process, what is referred to in the trade as massive, catastrophic internal trauma and injury. In other words, my insides had been crushed big-time.
This entire event had happened in extreme slow-motion as if I were watching a dream about this happening to someone else. But the dream ended when I hit the ground and that metal plate. The impact was so hard I felt as if I were being crushed by a giant weight of some kind. It knocked the wind and the piss out of me at the same time. I remember laying in that street with a low, deep groaning sound coming out of me that I had never before heard. This disturbed me as I had been the victim of torture and had listened to the sounds of the insane for years but had never heard groans as plaintiff as these. I was paralyzed and unable to move. My body was enveloped in unbearable pain. Pain whose intensity I could not belive possible. Pain that penetrated trough and beyond my body to reach my very soul. Pain that I could not localize to understand what part of my body was damaged.
At that moment I realized I was in the process of dying. There was no question about it, there was no mistaking what was happening. There was no way out. There was no avoiding or escaping what was happening and I could not change it or turn back the clock. I was not angry, frightened, worried or even disappointed by what was happening. At that time all I felt was the all encompassing pain and the inevitability of my death I then made a decision that any enterprising young man would make. Since I had no choice in the matter and could not save my life, I really had nothing to lose. Therefore I decided to let my self die. I would go ahead with the process, stop fighting it and allow it to happen. But it would be with my permission and with my eyes wide open. I wanted to add the experience to the wide variety of phenomenon I had already accumulated during my short but extensively lived life. I wanted to "check" it out, To see what it was like, To embrace death with the passion of a lover. I was willing to die just to see what it felt like. Since it was the last thing I got to do , Why Not ? At that instant, like some kind of magic spell, or like awakening from a bad nightmare, everything changed ! I still hurt just as before but some how the pain was now bearable. I knew at that moment, just as sure as I knew that I was dying, I knew that I was "ALIVE". For the very first time in my life I was truly and fully living as opposed to just merely existing. I have never been the same since that time and to this day I count my life as having begun from that moment. My life before this time has become a poorly remembered dream, peopled with bad actors, half heartily playing their parts in a badly written, insignificant, obscure play.
The crowd of people who had assembled were strangely hushed. Standing around in small knots their nervousness only added to my concern. At this time I could look down and see my body laying in the roadway. I had no idea where I was that could afford me such an unrestricted view and the thought occurred to me that I really might be dead but it hurt to much to be dead. A voice called out from the crowd "hang on, the ambulance is coming". Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, I bitterly thought. Not once during the entire ordeal had I lost conciseness however I cant recall anything else that happened until the ambulance arrived to haul my body off.
It seemed to take hours until the ambulance finally arrived, It's siren oddly silent. The attendants got me on the stretcher, lifted me, put me in the van and straped me down. As we headed towards S.F. General I noticed that both the driver and the attendant in the back were wearing guns and clubs. When I asked him why ambulance attendants needed guns and clubs he turned to me snarling and said "there so we can beat the shit out of any asshole like you who gives us a bad time" Then I was hand cuffed to the stretcher and roughly searched. "What are you Doing" I managed to say trough clenched teeth, "Looking for the dope, asshole" The attendant/cop/pig, answered back. This ride took place at the hight of rush-hour traffic from north beach to San Francisco General Hospital. I don't know how long the ride actually took but It seemed like an eternity to me. No siren, no speeding ambulance, no emergency! Just two goons in a meat wagon taking me hand cuffed to jail or somewhere. I think they must have taken every back road and alley in S. F. trying to find the hospital. I was surprised when they didn't stop for coffee. Every stop and start of the vehicle, every bump in the road, every rock or stray piece of paper that was run over caused me excruciating pain.
Writhing in pain I finally arrived at S.F. General and was taken into emergency. There my handcuffs were removed, I was placed on a gurny and my cloths were cut off of my body. I was also covered with a sheet. During this time I received an act of compassion that I will cherish as long as I live. A urine sample was needed to access the extant of my internal injuries and if I could not do so a catheter tube would have to be inserted, reaching my bladder to obtain the sample. A very painful and uncomfortable process. There was in the room several Irish, Catholic Nuns acting as assistants to the staff.
To afford me privacy and to prevent me further pain and suffering they had set up a screen around the table I was laying on. They turned their backs and urged me to give the sample. When this did not work, they did a remarkable thing. They ran water in a sink for me to hear and hummed Irish lullaby to sooth me. I was touched to my soul by the charity and compassion of those sweet Sisters, May God bless them wherever they are. I was to injured to comply and the sample had to be taken as well as blood samples. I was then wheeled into a hall to wait my turn in a long line to be seen by a doctor.
In agony my plea's for pain medication were refused on the grounds that the Doctor needed to know where I hurt. Since I hurt all over, how was a Doctor going to be able to tell just where I hurt, I wondered.
About an hour latter I was wheeled into X-ray for a photo session. I was placed on a table with a tilting top and the first x-rays were taken with the machine over head. Then it became necessary to move the machine and tilt the table top to a complete upright position so a head on shot could be taken. The only problem was the attendant had forgotten to put the stirrups up for my feet to rest on and strap me down so that when the table was raised to an upright position I slowly began to slip off. The technician was in another room operating the controls and could not hear me yelling so sure enough, I slid off feet first onto the floor. I screamed out in pain and I'm sure I woke someone up in the basement morgue that night. I was put back into the hall of waiting and eventually a Doctor came to see me. I was informed that due to the extant of my injuries, there was really nothing that could be done for me . That it remained to be seen whether or not I would survive and was there someone who could be notified. "No! theres no one. Can I have a shot ? " As soon as you get to intensive care, was his reply. At 10 or 11:30 that night I was placed into the intensive care ward and finally given a shot of morphine.
I remained in the I.C. ward for a week and when it became clear I was not going to die on my own, I was transferred to a regular ward. My regular shots of morphine were changed to a weaker synthetic called Demoral and the frequency was cut down to one injection every four hours. The sensation was like being suspended in a balloon full of jelly, afloat in mid-air.
After another week I began to eat and was told that I was to be transferred to Oakland General since I was an Oakland resident . In Oakland I was told after a week that I would never walk again. I could receive some physical therapy but the waiting list was 8 to 12 months long. I finally lost my temper. How dare they have the audacity to tell me I would never walk again after what I had been trough. How dare they presume to have such power over my life to tell me I would die or that I would never walk. How dare they ? Angrily, I demanded that crutches be brought to me and to their astonishment, dragged myself out of bed, got up on the crutches and managed to get into the hall. As soon as I did this I noticed that the big chandelier on the ceiling was starting to sway back and forth and that the floor was starting to shake. I thought it was me until I saw people running around screaming then I realized we were having an earthquake. I waited for it to stop and made my way down to the entrance where I called a cab and finally made it home. I had lost more than 50 pounds of weight and about a month of time but within the space of another month was walking without the crutches
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