I WAS A CHILD SPY: LIFE WITH THE COMMUNIST HORDES

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Both corporate media interests and the ACLU have welcomed this recently released photo of journalist Claire O’Brien at age three, as vindication of their campaign to oust O’Brien from the industry. O’Brien (front row , far L) is pictured with a small cell of communist spies, including her parents, operating out of a rural base in western Massachusetts. (Her father is not shown here)

 THIS POST WILL BE CONTINUED SUBSTANTIALLY, SO PLEASE COME BACK SOON

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My siblings and I began belting out our favorite Commie song when we were six  or so. I felt very sophisticated about Harry as I  turned eight, for by then I understood that the song was something of an inside joke – and I was able to sort of  get  the joke on its most elementary level. As well, my brothers and I were  big hams, and the roars of  laughter and applause that greeted our renditions of Harry would have kept us singing all night if we had not  been ordered to bed at what we considered to be an outrageously early hour.

THE BALLAD OF HARRY  POLLITT

Harry Pollitt was a workman, one of Lenin’s lads

But he was fouly murdered by those counter-revolutionary cads.

So Harry went to heaven, he reached the Gates with ease,

Said, “May I talk with Comrade God?  I’m Harry Pollitt please.”

“Who are you‘?  said Saint Peter, “Are you humble and contrite?”

“I’m a friend of Lady Astors.”   “Well, OK. that’s quite alright. “

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and his wife Nadezhda, Kashino, Russia, 14 November 1920. Artist: Anon

Lenin (center), some of his lads, and his wife Nadezhda, Kashino, Russia, 14 November 1920. Artist: Anon

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They put Harry in the choir, but the hymns he did not like

So he organized the angels and he led them out on strike

One day when God was walking round heaven to meditate,

Who should he see but Harry chalking slogans on the gate?

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May Day, 1922

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They brought him up for trial before the Holy Ghost

For spreading disaffection amongst the heavenly host.

The verdict it was guilty, Harry said “Oh, well’

He tucked his nightie round his knees and he drifted down to Hell

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Seven long years have passed, Harry’s doing swell:

They just made him First People’s Commissar of Soviet Hell.

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Bread and Roses

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Well the moral of this story is an easy one to tell:

If you want to be a Bolshevik, you’ll have to go to Hell

You’ll have to go to Hell, you’ll have to go to Hell!

If you want to be a Bolshevik,  you’ll have to go to Hell.

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Woolen Mill, Ware, Massachusetts /Google Images

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My father painted the entire chimney of this woolen mill – all by himself

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This world that’s owned by parasites is ours and ours  alone

It is ours, not to slave in, but to master and to own.

In our hands we hold a power greater than their  hoarded gold.

We can bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old.

_From Solidarity Forever_

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The Eric Gill Community

The Mystery of the Disappearing Reporter: a “Deconstructed Myth”

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Did no one see me?  You never know.

Look at other stuff, like snow.

When its falling through the air

you can see  the flakes right  there.

But when flakes land upon the ground

they disappear: an icy mound.

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Who can believe in what they see?

How can I prove that I am me?

In all those years that passed on by

Wasn’t  I  lit up  by  the sky?

If I wasn’t, tell me why.

Oh, that is why the light is there:

“This is a snowflake, that  is Claire” –

 

No copies  of  either: anywhere

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IT’S YOUR ACLU! BUT LEAVE THE THINKING TO US/O’BRIEN2014

 

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My life as a colony: a self-portrait in four parts

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PART ONE: THE WORD I GAVE WAS A JOYFUL PRAYER. / CLAIRE O’BRIEN 2014

PART ONE: THE WORD I GAVE / CLAIRE O’BRIEN 2014

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 PART  TWO:  NO ONE WILL EVER BELIEVE YOU / CLAIRE  O’BRIEN 2014

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PART THREE: FUCK YOU

PART THREE: FUCK YOU / CLAIRE O’BRIEN 2014

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PART FOUR: PRESS RELEASE

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 FROM: THE BARBARIANS.

AT:  THE GATES

PART  ONE

  The despised and the crazy, the last secret kings,

the  underground flyers without any wings,

the sidewalk sleepers, dumpster creepers,

desert walkers, subway talkers.

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Some who stink and some who crawl,

the face of God down every hall.

 Perfect boys with basketballs:

radient beauty trampled down

fallen stars upon the ground.

They need to know the world is good :

We’re here to get their childhoods.

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 .Those who work all night for crack

turning tricks across the tracks

kicked like dogs, knocked out and smacked:

We are here to pay them back.

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Mountain  people with no teeth:

Cartoon men of ancient speech

They  have not eaten  for a week.

They don’t demand their equal due.

That’s why we are coming  through

and why we’re headed straight for you.

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PART  TWO

It’s funny how much people hate

to see me standing at the Gates,

presuming  I can give expression

to real,  system-wide oppression.

To them I say,” Well you tell me

why nothing here applies to me.

Why every  fundamental right

applies to everyone  in sight

except for those you single out

as people who just do not count.

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Although the feds made it a crime,

lawyers do it all  the time.

No one has to give a shit

about the bottom of the list:

That is what the bottom’s for –

you’re not a person anymore.

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PART THREE

Some  people learn this  lesson, then live it every day

“No matter what you,  do,  no matter what you say.

No matter if the work you do gets better everyday,

No  matter all the  damage caused  by lies that others  say –

There is nothing  you can do to change the role you play.

We took you down forever, and down is where you’ll  stay.”

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If you don’t see stigma as oppression in every single way

or understand the world I lost, and lose anew each day,

Then consider  four years later, as I hold my breath and pray

for  a few unbroken promises that won’t just fade  away.

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And  let us call out bigotry, for that’s its real name –

 as ugly as it sounds and as worthy of the shame,

as global and destructive as any tyrant’s reign.

Tracking Truth: a final report to the fan club’s membership from its national president

T R U T H

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I N T E R N A T I O N A L

I was a lot smarter before I was recruited by the American Chapter of Truth’s International Fan Club. Until then, I like to think I did my share of big thinking. Well, not BIG thinking, but certainly nuanced, certainly multi-dimensional, characterized by a superior plasticity capable of applied abstraction,  theoretical awe, and the synthesis of five or six simultaneous subtexts with their oppositional intersections.
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B I G T H I N K I N G

Things got more complicated (but not more complex) and more simplistic following my election by acclamation to the club’s presidency two years ago. Now, when it comes to Truth, I spend most of my time on the intellectual equivalent of a middle school playground.   Over and over, I tell the same simple story of an outrageous bluff pulled off by a powerful media elite for the specific purpose of permanently discrediting me. Over and over I point out the swift efficiency with which a handful of people achieved immediate and unquestioned national media compliance. Over and over I explain that this shows an already entrenched and systemic corruption far worse than the  American public imagines.
 I’m neither believed nor told why. The narrative itself bores me to the brink of shutting down my brain, while remaining inexplicably exhausting. At times I can actually feel my brain shrink as I brace myself to repeat a basic point to someone who already understands it perfectly.
Yet I’m back again every time the recess bell rings
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MY INTELLECTUAL ARENA

Some say that I’ve developed into one of those obsessed fans, the kind whose loyalty and dedication devolves into a variation of obstructive stalking that all celebrities dread.
 Although my time on the playground may have produced a certain degree of myopia in my perception, I don’t see it, myself.
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I JUST KNOW TRUTH IS AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE. WHY DOESN’T ANYONE NOTICE WHEN IT DISAPPEARS??

The fact is, I haven’t stalked Truth so much as tried to keep track of it. Frankly, I’d had no idea that it was so absent-minded, nor so anonymous and scruffy: I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Truth wandered off unnoticed someday and forgot to return. I’ll admit that I do tend to hover a bit; however, I strongly deny all rumors of that electronic tracking device trending on Twitter last month.

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 My critics, like most people, are completely unaware of the responsibilities of a national fan club president. Lord knows the job is a thankless task: just ask the presidents of the Ayn Rand, Vanilla Ice, and Door to Door Encyclopedia Salesmen fan clubs.
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2014 National Convention of the American Chapter of Truth’s International Fan Club

 For example, at our club’s last national convention, I had to break up fist fights over jazz fusion, the gold standard, and the Chicago Cubs, then kick out the usual spies from the ACLU, and ban as frivolous the introduction of a resolution that “Truth is beauty, beauty truth, etc”.
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On top of that, I spent half the convention dealing with the Christian delegates alone: first, I barred them as a body until they submitted a group statement admitting Christianity’s historic proximity to, and familiarity with, Islāmic doctrine and culture – dating from the latter’s earliest emergence 600 years after that of Christianity’s.
I also suspended the club’s Protestant fundamentalists until they could describe the Reformation’s role in 19th century American radical abolitionism.
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The great abolitionist and international hero John Brown. Now THERE’s a Protestant!

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 By this time, all the anarchists, hip-hop artists, Palestinian children, Mississippi River tug boat crews and insane poets had left the building. As I watched them leave from an upper window, my heart filled with love, and then sank. I was left to deal, ungraciously, with a squabble between several prominent physicists and a group of Staten Island ninth graders.
The teenagers’ claim to have located the planet Krypton within a parallel universe met with vehement opposition by the scientists, who insisted that Krypton is actually located in our own galaxy.
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I’m just saying.
Anyway, I didn’t want Truth to lose its morale, which is why the paparazzi caught me trying to poke a housewarming gift of homemade brownies through Truth’s living room window recently. I was only trying to cheer it up.
Instead, Truth served me with another restraining order. Just my luck – only two months after the last one expired. I mean, jeesh! Who knew that climbing seven little stories would get people so worked up?
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The work of a fan club president never ends.

 

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IF ONLY PEOPLE WOULD PAY THIS MUCH ATTENTION WHEN I OPEN MY MOUTH

As I told the nice firemen, I thought all those people were pointing upward because that weapon of mass destruction disguised as a kite was floating by – you know, the one smuggled in by the seven-year-old Guatemalan twins picked up by the Border Patrol recently.
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More sensible neighbors climbed out of their windows to join me in a delicious snack of brownies

“Thank God the CIA told the New York Times not to fall for the kids’ ridiculous claim to be “looking for Mommy,” said the fire captain with feeling.”Every time I send my people into a burning building, I remember that a free press is worth defending.”

I saw that he had tears in his eyes and looked around somewhat desperately for Truth. It met my eyes through the thick window glass and shrugged hopelessly.
 Then Truth closed the curtains.
But not before taking a big bite of one of my brownies.
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My last glimpse of Truth on the balcony

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Maat

Ma’at, Egyptian goddess of Truth

You know, frankly, I think Truth tends to over-react. The respective presidents of the Justice, Wisdom, and Beauty fan clubs all say it should appreciate a fan club president like me.
“You won’t catch us baking brownies for the old goats,” they said.
“Are you calling Justice an old goat?” I gasped.
“I am,” replied the Justice Fan Cub president, a nice man named Fred.  “In fact, that was my campaign slogan: ‘Justice is an old goat’ “.
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THE  OLD GOAT 
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THE OLD GOAT KEEPER:
LUCY DALGLISH, PROFESSIONAL CROOK
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PORTRAIT OF THE JOURNALISM PROFESSOR AS A CORPORATE THUG

 SENIOR ASSISTANT GOAT KEEPER AND PROFESSIONAL TOOL
SPJ PRESIDENT DAVID CUILLER,
 
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IT HAS ITS OWN GOAT HERD NOW.THIS IS NOT YOUR FATHER’S ACLU.
DO NOT MEET IT IN A DARK ALLEY 
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I stared at Fred as he told me that his club had done a lot of housecleaning.
“The first thing we did was kick out all the nonprofits who work for justice. We banned Progressives who couldn’t define that political identity with more precision, the Peace Corps, and any group that published photos of villagers gathered around drinking wells it had funded” he said.”That was a good start. Then we elected a big slate of new officers: fast food workers, Honduran children, prostitutes, Zapatistas,  mental patients, West Virginia coal miners, junkies, teenage gangsters, convicts and welfare mothers. Things have really been looking up for us ever since.”
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A new member of the Justice Fan Club’s steering committee, representing Delaware.
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 West Virginia’s coal miners survived by laboring to destroy both the mountains they love (see below) and their own bodies. Now used up by the coal companies just like other commodities, they are left to die of Black Lung Disease, with no income and no possibility of employment, surrounded by the corpses of mountains that provided generations with abundant game, fish, medicinal plants, and firewood.
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 This is the result of Mountain Top Removal Mining, which literally removes the tops of mountains, gutting the interior and making recovery impossible.
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A former coal miner from the town of Appalachia, West Virginia, is the new national treasurer of the Justice Fan Club. He is planning a class action suit against the Empire Coal Company and has organized a fiddle manufacturing collective.
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As Fred and I wound up our conversation, I had an idea.
Hmm. Maybe –
Fred read my mind.
“You know, I think you’ve been barking up the wrong tree,” he said kindly, as he handed me a business card.”Why don’t you check these people out? Truth and Justice can kill people like you.”
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The card Fred gave me was deep blue with small gold lettering and a graphic depicting the earth revolving around the sun.
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“International Fans of Verifiable Facts” I read.”Access to existing legal systems is good enough for us”
Below it, bold italics proclaimed “Personal opinions not sought. Excessive and  redundant proof not provided. Discriminatory screening standards not  accommodated. Agreements re. political support constitute an obligation to honor them.”
I’m going to my first meeting next week.
Fred made me promise not to run for president.
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THE MOMENT OF TRUTH: Logo.©2007 FOX BROADCASTING
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shame-on-you
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My last official act as president of the American chapter of Truth’s International Fan
Club was to send Truth on vacation to a distant, peaceful beach.
I got an email just yesterday.
“Having a nice time” Truth wrote, “I needed a rest. Sort of miss you.
Almost wish you were here.”
Same here, old pal.
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Q.What makes the ACLU laugh? A. Your rights

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IJ1
The Neoliberal Non-Profit Hymn

        

We stand strong for human rights

                                          Just look us up online.
                                        Wherever freedom’s trampled

                                          We take freedom’s side.

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But we can’t stand for human rights

 in every whacko’s name.

Justice can’t be handed out

to all who make a claim.

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                                  We’re the ones who know what’s best.
                                       we take the longer view:
                                How long would freedom last for us
                                      in the hands of bums like you?
 
                                         By Claire O’Brien 2014
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“What force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one?”

from  Solidarity Forever

 

 

 

TWELVE GATES TO THE CITY/12,000 HITS

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“Let’s see..there’s three gates to the north, three gates to the south….” / Claire O’Brien 2013

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 Oh, what a beautiful City! Oh, what a beautiful City!

Oh, what a beautiful City! Twelve gates to the City, Halleluia!

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12,000 Hits Later, O’Brien (see above subtle symbolism) Mulls and Plans her Comeback

 I’ve decided to combine my 12,000 Hit Celebration with some cards I’ve shared with only two or three people. I received them four years ago in 2010,  when I was a print reporter for the Daily Globe in Dodge City, Kansas, during a State Supreme Court First Amendment case and murder trial. I’m sharing only those cards that were not confidentially sent – most of the Latino community feared, with good cause, reprisal for supporting me.

 

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From a source

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I was defamed by an unholy alliance of corporate media, neoliberal First Amendment groups, most particularly the Reporter’s Committee for Freedom of the Press (Director LUCY DAGLISH), and the state. Newer readers who are interested in what happened would honor me by reading Jeff Nyguyen’s post in his impressive blog, Deconstructing Myths.

I’ll also list my own selections from this blog’s archives at the end of this post.

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From Dennis and Mary Lou Doris

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I haven’t shared these cards for a number of reasons. First of all, I have been very publically and shamelessly called a liar by some powerful people. Thus, I have kept these expressions of community support close to my heart: I wasn’t willing to submit them to the disrespectful and ruthless public scrutiny that had destroyed my best professional and personal efforts.

These days, though, I’m thinking that I want to share more than my anger about what it means to be defamed. Defamation is a  word that makes it sound as if mean-spirited gossip has hurt one’s feelings. But that’s not what it is. Real defamation WORKS: it gathers momentum, as it’s intended to, until people believe it. And if they don’t believe it, they believe something is/was unsavory and/or not quite right about you. In the end, to really defame someone, you have to get at the heart of their character in some fundamental way: you can’t portray them as truthful in every other aspect of their life – and yet a huge liar re. one nationally -known, professionally pivotal incident.  Since they are telling the truth, you have to discredit their essential personhood in order to ensure that they will remain permanently discredited.

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There’s three gates to the north, three gates to the south,

Three gates to the east, three gates to the west.

In all, there’s twelve gates to the city, halleluia!

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FROM NORMA ORONA

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FROM ETHEL PETERSON

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I don’t know if it’s considered unprofessional to publish cards of support. After four years of struggle, I think I’ve worried too much about those kinds of standards – I think they may be a kind of trap. I decided that I should document more than what was done to me, more than my political and professional anger about it. I decided that I could also document what it really feels like to be a truthful reporter who has really been defamed. Maybe people don’t have a clear sense of what that means; if so, that’s something I can contribute.

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FROM JERRY AND ANNE KETNER

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FROM THE BONILLA FAMLY

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When I get there, I’m gonna sing and shout.

Ain’t nobody gonna put me out.

Oh what a beautiful city!

Oh. what a beautiful city, Halleluia!

Traditional Spiritual

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Special note: what I get when I now attempt to reach University of Maryland attorney Laura Anderson, with whom I had been in touch re. my legal complaints about above-named Lucy Dalglish

The following message to <landerso@mail.umd.edu> was undeliverable.
The reason for the problem:
5.3.0 –  Sender denied

I would really appreciate emails sent to this corporate lawyer supporting my right to acknowledgement and redress. Thanks very much.

No Justica, no Paz

REBLOGGED FROM LATINA LISTA

KANSAS REPORTER WHO EXPOSED RACISM IN DODGE CITY HAS NEW BATTLE TO FIGHT

POSTED date: May 21, 2010 | comment : 7

LatinaLista — It’s been a little over a month since Sam Bonilla, a Mexican immigrant opted not to go to trial in Dodge City, Kansas for killing a local man during a situation he claims was self-defense.

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Bonilla’s reason for not facing a jury was reported that he didn’t feel he could get a fair trial in Dodge City because he was Latino. While there are people who disputed his claim on Latina Lista — they were mainly the family members of the deceased — it was a serious enough statement that got the attention of the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund (MALDEF) and federal peacemakers from the Dept. of Justice.

Regardless of what Dodge City officials and their supporters contend about there not being discrimination in Dodge City against the local Latino population, enoughmembers from the Dodge City Latino community itself have emerged since Bonilla was put in jail to tell their stories to the contrary of city officials. Their personal experiences underscore how systemic racism has entrenched itself in the town to the point that people, who aren’t victimized by it, don’t even notice it.

From all reports, city officials are supposed to be now working with the local Latino community in addressing concerns and allegations that the police actively racially profile Latinos targeting their neighborhoods and businesses.

Time will tell if Dodge City officials were as clueless to the racial tensions that exist in their town, as they claim, or they just didn’t like anyone pulling off the blanket and exposing how they always did things.

No matter which way it’s looked at, the situation in Dodge City needed to be exposed. If it had not been for Claire O’Brien, the reporter for the Dodge City Daily Globe at the time, no one would have found out about Bonilla or Dodge City.

O’Brien’s diligence to Bonilla’s case, and her commitment to her journalistic ethics in not revealing a source during the course of reporting on Bonilla’s case, garnered her first place in the news category of the Spring 2010 Kansas Press Association awards (Not to mention, she won three additional awards) and was instrumental in finally getting the Kansas legislature to pass a Shield Law which was signed by Kansas Governor Mark Parkinson in April.

But not everybody was happy that O’Brien exposed Dodge’s racial undercurrents. In a bizarre show of unprofessionalism, the presiding judge in Sam Bonilla’s sentencing hearing, Judge Daniel Love, took over 10 minutes to publicly berate O’Brien, who was present in the courtroom, for stirring things up in town. He blamed her choice of words in her reporting to describe Bonilla’s situation. By the time the judge was done, it was clear he viewed O’Brien as a troublemaker — yet, everyone else should have seen her as doing her job, and doing it well.

However, in the hours after Bonilla’s sentencing, O’Brien found herself in a situation that no reporter should be in for doing their job. Within a span of hours, O’Brien lost her job at the Daily Globe, was uninvited to speak at a journalism conference, was ignored by the Kansas Press Association in her role for finally getting the Shield Law passed in Kansas and began a quest to redeem her journalistic reputation.

For someone who recognized that there existed two sets of standards in Dodge City and had the guts to report it, I think it’s only fair that Latina Lista readers know the second half to this story.

O’Brien’s problems began when she refused to reveal her source who had told her that one of the men who had confronted Sam Bonilla had “a base of support that is well-known for its anti-Hispanic beliefs” and the same support base had a “supply of semi-automatic weapons.”

The local County Attorney, Terry Malone, decided he needed to know O’Brien’s source and pressured her to reveal it or be found in contempt and go to jail. Though O’Brien was petrified of going to jail — which I can attest to since we were in phone contact during this time — she wasn’t about to reveal her source.

Right after the County Attorney began his bullying of O’Brien, her employers, GateHouse Media, secured a lawyer to represent her. It was at this time O’Brien told me that they were pressuring her to reveal her source or they would withhold legal counsel. She felt like she was under such pressure to reveal her source that she decided not to show up to the “Inquisition,” like a Grand Jury hearing and didn’t tell her lawyer since she wasn’t even sure she still had a lawyer. She was fined by the judge and threatened with contempt but eventually appeared. Luckily for O’Brien, her source decided to reveal himself.

Yet, the damage had been done. It wasn’t long before O’Brien found herself locked out of the Daily Globe and then terminated. Since then, O’Brien has been in a heated exchange with Lucy Daglish, executive director of Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, who made statements to the press casting doubt on O’Brien’s explanations as to why she didn’t show up at the courthouse.

It’s odd enough that an organization meant to champion reporters would side so quickly with management but because it did happen that way, and from this particular organization, it wasn’t long before O’Brien found invitations to appear at journalism conferences rescinded, invitations to apply for jobs at other newspapers disappear and what’s worse, completely ignored by the Kansas Press Association for what can only be described as her historic role in getting the Shield Law passed in Kansas.

Other sources have chronicled this strange lack of support from the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press better than I. Yet, the bottom line remains that O’Brien’s reputation has been sullied and it will take a public affirmation from RCFP, according to O’Brien, that she was telling the truth all along to regain her previous reputation.

Well, Dalgish did post something. But not on the homepage of the RCFP website, which is the logical location. No, for some crazy reason, or maybe not so crazy, the executive director of an organization that is supposed to support journalists posted her so-called “letter of support,” written April 22, 2010, as a comment to a story that was posted on Feb. 16, 2010.

Dalgish’s letter starts out:

To Whom it May Concern:

This memo is to clarify misperceptions regarding the circumstances surrounding Claire O’Brien’s refusal to appear before a Kansas inquisition on February 10, 2010…

For the record, I did call Lucy Dalgish, executive director of the RCFP, who told me she was “very proud” of how her organization handled O’Brien’s case. Yet, throughout our conversation she did repeat “I’m going to get flamed by the Internet.”

Dalgish’s failure to post the letter of support in a visible location is a sad commentary on the RCFP and how this organization treated this reporter who put herself on the line for exposing a story that needed to be told.

It is also a disgrace that the Kansas Press Association turned their backs on O’Brien and the role she had in getting the Shield Law passed.

Doug Anstaett, director of the Kansas Press Association, told a reporter at the time of the signing of the Kansas Shield Law that:

“With the situation that developed in Dodge City, there was a much higher interest and awareness of this issue among the legislators this year. That made it somewhat easier to bring it forward and get it moving.”

That quote obviously tells me that he attributes the Shields Law passing into law this summer as a direct result of O’Brien’s situation. Yet, when in an e-mail sent to Anstaett asking who was present at the signing of the Shield Law he wrote,

“Four representatives of the Kansas Press Association were on hand April 28 at the office of Gov. Mark Parkinson for a bill signing ceremony for the recently approved shield law for reporters.

Mike Kautsch, KPA’s media law adviser, Ken Knepper, KPA legislative director, Rich Gannon, KPA director of governmental affairs and Doug Anstaett, KPA executive director, joined representatives of the Kansas Association of Broadcasters for the event.

Also on hand were three senators critical to the bill’s success: Sen. Derek Schmidt, who authored the original bill, Sen. Anthony Hensley, who co-sponsored the bill, and Sen. Terry Bruce, whose hard work this session helped moved the bill through the Kansas Legislature.

Gov. Mark Parkinson actually signed the bill into law on April 15. The bill was approved by the Kansas House and Senate March 30.”

When I asked why there had not been an invitation extended by the KPA to O’Brien, Mr. Anstaett replied:

I respectfully decline comment on your other questions.

Since her dismissal from the Daily Globe, O’Brien has been living a hand-to-mouth existence, since every newspaper door in Kansas seems to shut in her face for some inexplicable reason. Borrowing money from her family, she was able to move to a new town recently and start a new job. Yet, O’Brien suffered a car accident on the second day. After a series of unbelievable events, O’Brien now finds herself without a job again, no money and in a strange town.

So, as she gets her life back in order, and contemplates whether or not she can economically continue in journalism, I can only hope that she doesn’t give up.

She is the kind of reporter that is needed today more than ever. Someone who isn’t afraid of reporting the truth and exposing the kinds of discrimination and racism that does indeed exist from small towns to big cities. Someone who’s not afraid to hold accountable the institutions and organizations that began their existence in support of journalists doing their jobs.

Someone for whom journalism is more than a career — it’s her life.

LUCY DALGLISH: TELL THE TRUTH !!

I.F. STONE, WITH A MAP OF  VIETNAM AND CAMBODIA/ ZOOMINTO

SOMEWHERE, I.F. STONE IS WATCHING YOU. MAYBE NOT FROM HEAVEN (SEE BELOW) BUT BELIEVE ME, FROM SOMEWHERE. HIS EAGLE EYE WON’T DIE AS LONG AS THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE IN FREEDOM, AND JOURNALISTS WHO BELIEVE DEEPLY IN A FREE PRESS.

“HEY LUCY! THIS IS IZZY – JUST TELL THE TRUTH! “/ZOOMINTO

PLEASE SEE POSTS DATED SEPTEMBER 16, 19, 20, AND OCTOBER 2 FOR BACKGROUND INFO.

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ALEC’S ENERGY PLAN HEADS FURTHER SOUTH

The Junior High School Press Association faces heavy sanctions for releasing photos of the toxic biohazards being cleaned up by thousands of Black prison inmates in an undisclosed 500 square mile location somewhere west of the Rockies.  This isn’t the first time the JHSPA has attracted the wrath of the American Legislative Executive Council, which has been granted expanded new powers to censor the media in the wake of an immigrant invasion of Arizona last August.

And it isn’t the first time JHSPA’S former Washington correspondent Tupac B. Wells, who took the photos, has received an serious blot on his permanent record. Wells, grade 8,  was recalled to  Frederick Douglas Junior High School in  Newark, New Jersey and demoted to the cafeteria beat shortly after the invasion for questioning ALEC’S  drone-based surveilence evidence of this drastic breach of our southern border.

Now, the 13 year-old reporter has been required to turn over all his photos to ALEC,  forbidden to leave Newark, and forced to write “I WILL be grateful to America” 1,000 times. Wells has been further demoted, this time to the afternoon recess beat, and his editor, Malcolm J. Baldwin, also an 8th grader, has been kicked down to the 7th Grade Society Desk. An investigation is under way to determine how Wells got assigned a national story when he should have been covering the cafeteria.

Baldwin has remained defiant in backing his reporter; meanwhile Wells  refuses to apologise to a New York Times correspondent whom he allegedly referred to as a cheap hack and an opportunistic tool.

The Times had no comment. Its reporter gave Wells the finger.

I.F. Stone’ Weekly continues to be banned.

READ POSTS DATED 6/8, 7/4, 7/19, AND 9/8 FOR BACKGROUND ON THIS CONTINUING STORY!

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IT ALL STARTED IN THE FORD COUNTY JAIL

Fort Dodge Jail

Fort Dodge Jail (Photo credit: Kevin H.)

Less than a week after I wrote this story, I was subpeonead by the Ford County DA to reveal the name of the confidential source mentioned. It was the beginning of a nightmare for both Sam Bonilla and myself. More to come on Electrica in the Desert.  NOTE: The photo above is of the old Fort Dodge Jail just outside of the Dodge City limits. It was constructed as part of the federal military campaign to subdue the Native peoples in Kansas after the Civil War. It’s not the jail in which Bonilla was incarcerated a few miles away, but I included it because, for me, it symbolizes an ongoing mentality that characterizes the forces that continue to operate in southwestern Kansas.
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