"A Wall as a Weapon"

Noam Chomsky, New York Times

It is a virtual reflex for governments to plead security concerns when they undertake any controversial action, often as a pretext for something else. Careful scrutiny is always in order. Israel's so-called security fence, which is the subject of hearings starting today at the International Court of Justice in The Hague, is a case in point.

Few would question Israel's right to protect its citizens from terrorist attacks like the one yesterday, even to build a security wall if that were an appropriate means. It is also clear where such a wall would be built if security were the guiding concern: inside Israel, within the internationally recognized border, the Green Line established after the 1948-49 war. The wall could then be as forbidding as the authorities chose: patrolled by the army on both sides, heavily mined, impenetrable. Such a wall would maximize security, and there would be no international protest or violation of international law.

"Les Enfants Perdus de Ayiti? Not!"

Chris Brady

There was a big difference between Aristide’s political behavior before
he was deposed versus after he was reinstalled by US troops. He was
more of a populist before. His movement lost a lot of steam during his
imposed hiatus.

Aristide’s opposition may have been pushed back by US armed force, but
after the Lavalas tidal wave had swept across Haiti, it had actually
anchored itself securely in coves of privilege across the country.
Furthermore, Aristide was a chastened man when he returned, like a child
who required the intervention of a Big Daddy, while the bullies smirked
on the sidelines. All the other kids in the playground knew the score:
he wouldn’t be there without Big Daddy. In front of everyone, Big Daddy
sternly told him not to antagonize the bullies, and to behave himself.
He was allowed to serve out his term, but forbidden to add on the years
he lost. He was effectively penalized for losing. The bullies puffed
their chests, and went inside for a bit, locking the gates of their
mansions.

"Hieroglyphs of the Future:

Jacques Rancière and the Aesthetics of Equality"

Brian Holmes

"We're not surplus, we're a plus." The slogan appeared at the demonstrations
of the French jobless movement in the mid-nineties, in journals, on banners,
on tracts printed by the political art group Ne pas plier. It knitted the
critical force and the subjective claims of the movement into a single phrase.
To be "surplus" (laid off, redundant) was to be reduced to silence in a
society that effectively subtracted the jobless from the public accounts, that
made them into a kind of residue -– invisible, inconceivable except as a
statistic under a negative sign. Excluded, in short: cut out of a system based
on the status of the salaried employee. Until they finally came together to
turn the tables, reverse the signs, and claim a new name on a stage they had
created, by occupying unemployment offices in a nation-wide protest during the
winter of 1997-98. The people with nothing erupted onto the public
scene. "We're a plus," they said, intruding through the TV cameras into the
country's living rooms. Which also meant, "We'll drink champagne on Christmas
eve."

One way to grasp the aesthetic language of the French social movements in the
nineties -– and of the transnational movements now emerging -– is to read
Jacques Rancière's work on equality.

An anonymous coward writes:

"Killing the Music"

Don Henley, Washington Post

When I started in the music business, music was
important and vital to our culture. Artists connected
with their fans. Record labels signed cutting-edge
artists, and FM radio offered an incredible variety of
music. Music touched fans in a unique and personal way.
Our culture was enriched and the music business was
healthy and strong.

That's all changed.

Today the music business is in crisis. Sales have
decreased between 20 and 30 percent over the past three
years. Record labels are suing children for using
unauthorized peer-to-peer (P2P) file-sharing systems.
Only a few artists ever hear their music on the radio,
yet radio networks are battling Congress over ownership
restrictions. Independent music stores are closing at
an unprecedented pace. And the artists seem to be at
odds with just about everyone -- even the fans.

Contrary to conventional wisdom, the root problem is
not the artists, the fans or even new Internet
technology. The problem is the music industry itself.
It's systemic. The industry, which was once composed of
hundreds of big and small record labels, is now
controlled by just a handful of unregulated,
multinational corporations determined to continue their
mad rush toward further consolidation and merger. Sony
and BMG announced their agreement to merge in November,
and EMI and Time Warner may not be far behind. The
industry may soon be dominated by only three
multinational corporations.