JESSE REPORTS

American Autumn Begins

2011-09-19T09:08:00.001-04:00

Wall Street Lockdown

2011-09-19T00:55:00.001-04:00

This weekend I was in lower Manhattan visiting a friend and over night barricades, police vans, bogus dogs and check points sprang up. I went out to get some coffee and repeatedly had to be questioned by officers as to where I was going, who I was, why I was walking around, etc. It is very reminiscent of Warsaw circa 1938 down there at this moment, with security on high alert and that good old 10 year wave of paranoia as strong and as fear-coated as ever.

Many people were hassled who were trying to get through from Williams St. to Broadway. Residents of my friends building were escorted to the front desk by police who questioned whether they lived there or not.

Hundreds of Socialists, pissed off hardworking people and activists of many colors converged on the fringes of Wall Street all weekend, gearing up for tomorrows attempt at shutting down the machine. It seems uncertain how they will pull it off, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Recent Reports

2011-08-24T05:37:00.004-04:00

In addition to my last entry I have to add that I managed to interview the friends of Mark Duggan, who was slain by the police prior to the riots. Venturing out to Broadwater Farm Estate was a bit of a mission, given the fact that London looks like a maze to me. When the BBC rolled up they were told to get the hell out, but for some reason I was told to stick around.

Another story that got me excited was watching broadcaster and community leader Darcus Howe get snubbed by Fiona Armstrong, a lame anchor at the BBC, over his comments regarding the riots. I decided to head down to his house and hear him rant some more, which I enjoyed a lot. Both stories were picked up and published by Vice Magazine's blog Viceland.

Burning, Looting and Laughing: Riots of Fun

2011-08-24T05:29:00.003-04:00

The morning after the London Riots I wandered the streets of Hackney in east London to see if everything was cool at my mother in laws house. Along Mare Street, in the business district most of you saw busted up and set ablaze on TV the night before, I was shocked to find hundreds of people banding together, sweeping up glass, boarding up windows and one man re-paving a sidewalk. Charred cars were being hauled away. It was sunny in the early morning; the fresh scent of sweat, frustration and ultimately boredom lingered in the air.

The killing of 29-year-old Mark Duggan by the metropolitan police in Tottenham, north London gave way to a peaceful protest that corroded into a nasty riot on August 6, but the ripple effect of carnage that fanned out across the UK was the screeching of another beast entirely. I love how major news networks across the U.S. and elsewhere have spent the last week trying to drum up a reason for the burning and looting that has lead to the arrest of over 2,700 young people in the comedown after such cranked up urban mayhem, from London to Birmingham and Manchester.

Prime Minister Cameron was pleased with the long arm of the law hammering hard on those involved saying, “What happened on our streets was absolutely appalling behavior and to send a very clear message that it’s wrong and won’t be tolerated is what the criminal justice system should be doing.”

While some offenses are more drastic than others, such as a teenager killing 68-year-old Richard Mannington Bowes in Ealing, west London, the majority of the rioters were hauled in for smashing up storefronts and burning cars. Yes these are terrible acts, but should the British justice system overstep its Fixed-Penalty Notice (FNP) implemented last year, where anyone caught shoplifting less than £200 ($330.00) of stolen items would be fined £80 ($132.00) by the police if caught? Without absolute proof of who stole what the courts will have to endure a long legal battle to prosecute those involved and to what degree of criminal activity they partook in.

Many of these kids semi-coordinated the siege of department stores like Footlocker using BlackBerry Messenger, an encrypted messaging platform that is free of charge with every BlackBerry. Their motives were not of political protest; they wore designer jeans and sneakers while looting electronic shops for iPhones and flat-screen TVs, the better stuff. As politicians ask about the accountability of parents throughout the riots they fail to understand that many of these neighborhoods have young working class parents under 30-years-old who, given their social demographic, work long hours and odd hours, often juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet. Watching their kids is perhaps a low priority given our trying times. By no means is this a full on race issue. It is an issue of social hierarchy, a political system that is laced with corruption and very out of touch with the youth in the UK.

Cameron, whose vacation in Sardinia was cut short over the riots, went as far to suggest the deactivation of Facebook and Twitter to suppress more rioting, as if he could.

“Everyone watching these horrific actions will be struck by how they were organized via social media,” he said. “Free flow of information can be used for good. But it can also be used for ill.”
Last time I checked this was the UK and not Iran, where the June 2009 demonstrations in Tehran were broadcasted beyond the censored Iranian state-run television to the world by daring folks who used social media. To even attempt to shut down these websites is a technical challenge apart from an infringement of liberty.
“So we are working with the Police, the intelligence services and industry to look at whether it would be right to stop people communicating via these websites and services when we know they are plotting violence, disorder and criminality” Cameron added.

On August 9, 16,000 police, including some from Manchester, patrolled London awaiting more riots that never came…well just not there. Birmingham and Manchester had their turn to burn that night where police were outstretched again by bored young teens of all races that took to looting for the sheer lust of it all, many knowing they would only serve a six month jail sentence for a first offence if caught. Parliament was slow to react to all of these riots, even deliberation over the use of water cannons long after the locust swarm of looting peaked.

The Office of National Statistics (ONS) released figures yesterday stating unemployment rose 38,000 in the three months leading up to June and 2.49 million people are jobless. Some theorists, think-tankers and economists would speculate the have-nots rioted over unemployment, but judging from those involved it appears it was all out of fun and because the kids finally realized they outnumbered and technologically outsmarted the police. This is why the streets were quiet the morning after the boroughs of Brixton, Clapham and Hackney rioted in London. There was no need to riot anymore. The kids got what they wanted, they won and were back to playing Grand Theft Auto, except now on their new gadgets and flat screen TVs at least until their doors are kicked in.

Journalists Freed!

2009-08-05T12:05:00.003-04:00

Bill Clinton is pretty awesome. He secretly traveled to North Korea yesterday to ask for the pardon of Euna Lee and Laura Ling. Two hours ago they arrived in Los Angeles, free and in The United States. It's amazing that this happened, that they didn't get sent to a hard labor camp or worse. The Two Current TV journalists were captured on March 17 and have spent the last 140 days imprisoned in North Korea. This success is what all jailed, captured and killed journalists should receive from the American government when they're overseas on assignments. Former Vice President Al Gore (who is also the co-founder of Current TV)and President Bill Clinton worked for months to bring these women home. This is a positive news story, a happy ending. That's all for today folks. Welcome home Euan Lee and Laura Ling!

Moving through changes

2009-08-03T23:35:00.004-04:00

July was a blur. I didn't even pay attention to the news after Sarah Palin stepped down. I am becoming obsessed with her career and lack-there-of. A lot has happened in the world over the past four week. Obama had a beer with the Sgt that wrongfully arrested that Harvard professor. Writers, talking heads and critics all took shots at what happened, calling it race related and a misunderstanding. I don't really care about these types of issues. I think that race is a bogus word. Apparently Argentina, a country that I love, has a lot of Swine Flu. But at the moment it is cold. I moved to San Francisco today and the windows at the apartment I am staying at are wide open. And there is just this rush of cold in the air.

TV is a 24/7 cartoon marathon, where no one looks away and everyone takes it seriously. I think this blog is going to serve now as more of a severely critical rant about the state of Planet. I also plan to write hypocritically, sparing not even myself from the cracking whip. So if you're still with me, you're still following this blog of nonsense, well then I praise you, because now, things are going to get weird.

Death of the King

2009-06-25T20:14:00.004-04:00

Michael Jackson has died today. I can't believe it. His music, his image and coveted dance moves will surpass his physical being. It's shocking to know that at 50 years old he died and how quickly it happened. The media is still out on what really happened. There hasn't been a press conference yet with his family or the doctors, but in this moment what is true is that someone, whose face is recognizable in every far flung corner of the earth, has died.

He was the reigning, self-proclaimed, King of Pop and his music will continue to be played, especially today while millions of people are both in shock and in mourning. My initial experience with Michael Jackson came when I watched that wild video for "Remember the time," when he morphs from a panther into himself and has a naughty fling with the princess of some Egyptian King (who was played by Eddie Murphy). The video was totally crazy all the way up to the ending when he busts his trademark spin move and vanishes into sand, while guards are in hot pursuit of him.

His sudden death is unfortunate, with a summer tour on the way and what could have been a big return to the stage and to fans across the globe. I'm certain that this weekend will be one filled with his music in every bar, club or party.

Michael Jackson and his single glove will be no more, he gave us the moon-walk and his legacy will remain timeless.

Calling all Iranians

2009-06-22T21:07:00.003-04:00

I keep meaning to write about this huge revolution happening in Iran. Have you heard? Just playing. It is amazing to see just what exactly has gone on there in the past 10 days since the June 12 election. Who needs war correspondents...or political ones for that matter, anymore. With everyone tweeting and texting and sending video to all the news agencies it is apparent that the era of such jobs, especially in Iran as of today, are no longer important.

When I watched the video of Neda, the young Iranian woman who was shot during the protests, it sent out a larger message then just another victim of the worlds political troubles. As she laid there with her father screaming and a stranger, apparently telling her to wake up, there was the thought that she could have been anyone I knew or you knew. Her Asics sneakers lifeless, blood seeping out of her with a shocked expression, gunned down by the basij militia. She was just a student, caught up in a protest, in a cause greater than herself. Always in these things, political and violent confrontation that is, people looking to better themselves get it worse than those who hold the power. It is the civilians who suffer in the end.

She very well may be the face of the new Iranian Revolution, a place locked down from western media at the moment, where I looked at a series of photos given to me by a friend the other day, of the horror and tragic events that unfolded when the people felt they had been duped by Ahmadinejad's re-election and took to the streets.

Since 1979 Iran has been under such constricting policies by the regime in power. In a world where my country freely elected an African American who promised change, there is a global belief, now, that change can happen anywhere. It is disheartening that in this particular situation change has begot violence in many forms.

The people have a right to a recount after all of this chaotic trouble and if they don't get it they may just topple the whole damn thing. After all it has been 30 years and maybe, just maybe the young people, the educated good people, that give Iran a good name, want some freedoms of their own and a change.

If any Iranians wish to send information/photos/text/video you can email me at my blog

Journalist freed, Journalists Jailed

2009-05-11T15:07:00.002-04:00

Journalists abroad are warriors of truth. Sometimes they fall victim to the wars they seek to pen down. I read this morning that American journalist Roxana Saberi was freed and I was thankful that the Iranian officials did what any nation should do when a journalist is seized. It is important to note that yes, she was there illegally, because of Iran's policy on dual citizenship...and the fact that Saberi is also Japanese.

For those who throw statements; Journalists shouldn't be in war zones, Journalists make things worse, etc... It is clear that they have a poor understanding of what it means to be a foreign correspondent. Foreign Correspondents go into war, disaster, famines with a pen,laptop and guts. No one is ordering them to go, no one arms them. For the Government of Iran to free Roxana Saberi it is a big step.

As for Euna Lee and Laura Ling, who were arrested on the boarder of China and North Korea, they're still in jail. Even though the events happened on March 17th they have somehow remained imprisoned. Journalists are always accused of being spies, they were accused of that. Now they face trial in North Korea, on their terms ,meaning they are being tried as spies.

I think about how absurdly retarded these leaders must be to believe journalists are always spying or getting the edge on another countries policies and weaknesses. This reminds me of what happened to Wall Street Journalist Danny Pearl in 2002. He was kidnapped and beheaded in Karachi, Pakistan, accused of being an agent of Mossad. Over 80 journalists have died since the begging of the Afganistan/Iraq wars. If Washington isn't going to bail out the news industry it should at least develop a better system of protecting and rescuing its countries more intrepid reporters.

SWINE FLU:This little Piggy affects the Market

2009-04-27T06:27:00.005-04:00

If you're going into the Big Apple this morning, like so many of my neighborhood friends, go with caution. Swine Flu is scaring the shit out of me. Wear a bandanna, some latex gloves, bring a syringe of the antidote. I can't imagine what Mexico City is doing this morning with 4 million of its people wearing masks...and the other 16 million poor bastards tying napkins to their faces or huddled under blankets reciting prayers.

To all those whose religion tells them to stay away from cloven-hoofed animals, because of their filth quality...well you were right. I admit it finally.Oil even went down, from fear of the snout.

20 Americans have already been quarantined for this piggy virus that's got even old Hog Pilot down at the airport nervous to fly. I feel bad for the Americans coming back from Mexico, because they're all being checked out and hassled. Stay sharp and get hip with this SWINE FLU. Make a cool mask, find colored latex gloves and if you have a cough PLEASE STAY HOME.

Clone Wars!

2009-04-24T00:57:00.002-04:00

Did you hear? They apparently successfully cloned a human embryo. It sounds like something cheap you'd see on the cover of National Enquirer at the checkout line in any supermarket, but it just might be true.

I've been meaning to touch on this issue for some time now. It disturbs and disgusts me without end. The very idea that someone bred, in a steaming vat, to look exactly like me sends a lump to the top of my throat. This doctor...or mad scientist, has no understanding of how far he may have pushed things. Sure we all remember Dolly and her sheep clone, awww cute. But this blasphemy has put even you at risk. What if there were two of me running around? Many people would be disgusted, frightened and annoyed. Thankfully they can't clone characteristics, because I talk way to fucking much.

Dr. Zavos has planted these embryos in multiple women in hopes to render a usable clone. He spent months on end under the sand, in the Middle East, in a weird bunker of sorts, crafting this method. From it we can only question whether or not it works, and wait to see.

If all goes well for him our world is forever changed. Greed heads will be able to clone workers to do all the back breaking labor we'd rather not do. Tyrannical war pigs will mass armies to battle other clone armies, thus creating a world of clone wars, much like what we geeks saw in Star Wars.

With technology increasing, so to will the method be to further this sick science that may one day rid the world of natural beings and bring forth creations on a face value level.

Then again, what if it's already worked? What if I'm dead and someone else is writing this and emailing you and talking to you and hanging out with you. It's possible. How would anyone know the difference?

Pure humans need to arm themselves and prepare for a clone take over, shoot to wound. Sound the alarm, take rations and flee to the mountains.

Right wing insanity

2009-04-16T00:57:00.004-04:00

Nearly all my thoughts at the moment seem to be turning back towards this recent claim that Homeland Security is making. They say watch out for right-wing extremists. Supposedly the 30 million nuts who still believe that they are the real America are brewing a constant hatred for Obama, the financial ruckus that has body-check corporate America and our growing and inevitable socialist government. If these obese heathens think they'll become our very own IRA they'd better think long and hard about just what the hell their trying to say.

Imagining that some skinhead collective will begin recruiting Iraq War vets, for their training, and then marching on cities or blowing up markets and banks seems like a far reach. And it would be ironic for that to happen in America, especially after so many men and women have witnessed that type of warfare first hand in the Middle East. I find this sort of threat to be cheap and ridiculous...and in every sense childish. We live in a democratic republic by thunder! The work the other 270 million of us have done to get away from a land full of social and racial injustice will not be taken away by a few baboons in cut-off shirts and camo fatigue.

Their complaint, in all it's middle school cafeteria nature, will have no consistency here in this time. If we are to be threatened by these Busch Beer drinking fucks, it will be their fight to loose. They are not the real Americans- there's no such thing. We are all Americans and now, of all times for protest, we are to expect it in the form of ne0-Nazi Skinheads hood-winking war vets as they get off the plane. It sounds insane, but possible. In times like this I wonder just what those real Americans want, if they dislike anyone who isn't a WASP and enjoy the heat of discharged assault rifles in the mid day sun.

Why Brazil Matters: Fuel for thought

2009-03-19T00:09:00.004-04:00

It's funny to think that not to long ago I was in the worlds leading ethanol producing country. That's right; Brazil baby! When The United States had its first major oil crisis in the mid 1970s, Brazil began what has been a successful program, fueling cars with bio-ethanol. Having such vast fields upon fields of sugarcane, the 5th largest country in the world now holds more weight as we go into an era of rising gas prices, continuing to sop up the bowels of the earth for liquefied Dino-go-juice.

Progress is now being made to make the massive city of Sao Paulo strictly ethanol, running on flexible fuel cars, one might hope even flying cars, sooner than you think. This is important for one reason. Blood for oil. It would be myopic for most to turn a blinds eye to The United States ongoing attempt to puncture every other countries backyard, in the name of democracy...or global control of fuel.

Brazil is really a right-on place. As one journalist once told me in Honolulu, "Killer people, killer parties, killer food," with a sincere, yet relaxed nod. His words rang true when I sat with several film students on a musky night in Sao Paulo's Villa Madalena neighborhood, discussing fuel.

"We're the country to watch," one guy said. "People think we're all violent and bows and arrows and shit. But, what you don't know is that our country supports all its cars on hybrid fuel."

At the moment Brazil sits on a second reserve of natural oil that was discovered off the coast of Rio de Janeiro in March 2008, and puts them in a very comfortable position, having no need for outside assistance to keep the lights on, the buses running and the motorbikes zipping along the streets of Ipanema.

"Some here think the U.S. will invade us next," an older man told me. I shrugged off the thought, but now I wonder, what if?

President Obama is now being asked to help ethanol make its way to the northern continent, in hopes to curb poverty and generate a step towards alternative fuel. It bothers me to know that sugar based ethanol is seven times more efficient and powerful than our corn based version here. And, ya know, while I'm at it and it's late here on The Brook, I'd like to bark at the vast majority of peddle powered absolutists who perpetually frown on automobiles.

Vehicles, boats and planes need to thrive in this confusing early 21st century, not everyone is going to sweat through their work shirt or relocate their lives to operate solely on bicycles. While bikes are fantastic, there is still a need for engines in many forms. One can only hope that these progressive thoughts find their way into the homes of SUV owners, the otherwise suck-fish on societies resources; who "just have to have" five cars, two boats, a quad and a dirt bike. If it's anyone that needs this transition of fuel it's them.

Poster Pig

2009-03-04T15:42:00.002-05:00

I have a headache, but it may be good...and not just for me, but for anyone looking to join The Republican Party. From the steaming mouth of a red-faced bigot have come the words; "Barack the magic negro," "halfrican American" (in reference to Obama) and a laundry list so insane, discomforting and disgusting that it could only come from the pill-popping gullet of Rush Limbaugh.

With this country on the crutches of already hard times the last thing his captured 13 million listeners need to hear is "I hope he fails," referring to President Obama on January 16. That, along with his failed attempt to incite riots at the August 2008 Democratic Convention, by getting Republicans to vote for Democrats in the Primary, is the mind of a foolish man with diarrhea of the mouth.

He cares not for anything, not even the Republican Party that, at the moment, is up to its trunk in quick sand. RNC leader Michael Steele called it best when he said Rush was an, "entertainer."
What most Republicans who listen to this fun hog fail to understand is that he is a shock jock radio DJ with no college degree. His words are polarizing and his thoughts split between that of a medieval friar and executioner. Hitler had Paul Joseph Goebbels, we have Limbaugh, a lard head who asked President Obama to debate him today.

Really, when it comes down to it, at the end of his day, Limbaugh beds down on a hefty stack of money, far from his old sty- and will be around on the radio until 2016 according to a contract he signed for $400 million dollars.

Perhaps we had it all wrong? Yes, Bush may have lead the elephant to the quick sand, but it was the thigh-rattling squeal of a pig that drove him in, the best thing that happened to the Democrats.

Empty blogging

2009-02-11T13:38:00.002-05:00

It appears that I nearly abandoned this blog for a month. Oh well, sometimes there is nothing to write about. Sometimes there is just too much to write about that you cant. I felt stuck between both of those thoughts over the past few weeks.

With President Obama trying to stimulate the economy, a failing war in the Middle East raging and my little sister unable to get a job spraying people with perfume at a local department store I think it is safe to say we are in trying times.

There is a lot of work to be done and we can only hope that the President gets the old machine running at a soft humming speed again. The events in Washington last month have left me convinced that we are headed into a new era and that things and life will get better. Leaving Washington D.C. was madness, in the sense that Ed could only make right turns for dozens of blocks and then only lefts, but on the other side of town.

We made it out without any issues and had a historic time in the capitol for damn sure. I recently did this story on a few guys who flew a small plane across the country and have been working my freelance angle during this "FOR SALE-GOING OUT OF BUSINESS" ditch we've fallen into. It is irresponsible, I know, to not update the blog. So with that I will say I am back and too bad about A-Rod and Michael (cough, cough) Phelps. If only Americans knew how much coke CEOs in Manhattan snorted, between playing with their money...

Martial Law Mardi Gras

2009-01-19T20:16:00.009-05:00

12:00 pm After an evening of partying and getting real caught up in the moment with everyone over such a historic and special inauguration we finally woke and took to the streets to catch the real buzz. 13th street, where we're staying has a great view of the Capitol and the Washington Monument. Along 13th street were thousands of people converging on The Mall and 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Obama is more than a president here. He's a super celebrity caught between a neo-mythological folk hero and the second coming of Christ.

4:30 pm The Mall was full of people everywhere, buying Obama pins, hats and even calendars. We sat on the frozen marble steps at the feet of Honest Abe just taking it all in. What began with his push to end slavery served as the pioneering progressive prototype that established the civil rights movement. And as thousands walked along the ice-bound Reflecting Pool up to his monument it full sunk in that we are a nation of progression. We are truly a land of equal opportunity once and for all.

6:00 pm People are all smiles here, singing his name in the streets. One man named Joe fought off frostbite by pounding on homemade drums chanting, "Who's in the house? Obama!" between blowing a whistle and keeping the corner of Pennsylvania Ave and 14th street electrified.

8:15 pm With the military controlling traffic, and generally running the city this weekend, merging with thousands celebrating there is only one feeling. "Call this piece Martial Law meets Mardi Gras," Ed said as we crossed over U street (Duke Ellington's turf) and into sheer jubilation filling every corner, porch, entrance way and congested crosswalk. The party on U street will be going all night and then again tomorrow night after everything is official our nation has its first Hawaiian-born African American president.

photos by E. Magliaro III

Revolution Suite 9

2009-01-18T21:09:00.004-05:00

11:26 a.m. Ed Magliaro and I are racing down the good old Rt. 287 en route to D.C. I am starting to feel the weight of this whole thing. Hot damn! I really can’t believe this is all happening, especially on the eve of Dr. Kings 80th birthday. How the tides turn- and with the tide everything else it washes in. I know we’re near Basking Ridge or maybe just south. I can’t help but wonder if there was a McCain stronghold there? And, if it’s anyone I feel sorry for this weekend it’s the right-wing conservative. He is hunkered down in the depths of some costly remodeled church basement in a town two hours north of Phoenix. He has his rations and a .357 just in case. Radio transmissions he receives are from a guy named Floyd who claims he is the 2nd Reserve Commander of an Uzi-toting militia called Fox- Claw. And they are all waiting to see if Barry will throw the switch and take oath under the Koran.

His belly burns from ingesting the new 6 for 6 bucket of fried chicken from KFC. Between pacing back and forth and reading the book of revelation out loud he sucks on a massive Pepsi and waits for more dispatches from Floyd. His end is near.

It is near in a sense. The whole right-winged faction of this country will be under the microscope this time. They will be screened for everything they do. Muzzled when the bark to loud and fed a carrot when they squeal when they’re not suppose to. The army of the new age descends on Washington, weaponless and determined.

2:33 p.m. The ride is almost over. We have officially crossed the Mason-Dixon Line, something that holds its own historic weight in this whole thing. Many people will argue that the Civil War was a war of secession…and in some ways it was. It was Mr. Lincolns war. But what many southerners have failed to remember is that for 300 years they had chained and chain-whipped Africans on plantations from Maryland to Florida and all the way across the Deep South. Oppression often has a psychological grip on the mind, especially if it has been conditioned that way. Freedom is when thyself is no longer bound by such control and the limiter ceases to exist. Some have hailed Obama’s victory as the Civil War finally ending. In a way they are right. There is now a leverage for African Americans nation wide, because a successful, well spoken African America has finally reached the top rung on the ladder of power. All boundaries were broken on this campaign in terms of that.

All men are created equally and equality has finally proven to be achievable for the first time in this country of amber waves of grain and towering Redwoods. With the capital approaching I am getting a stronger buzz in my brain. We will soon be walking inside a giant living dollar bill of faux Greek temples, Roman columns and Egyptian monoliths of power.

8:58 p.m. Ed and I are perched in a an apartment of a friend of a friends on a hill overlooking the Washington Monument. It’s blinking rhythmically and feeding my ADHD. I should be working on my assignment at the moment, but the city is charged. We spent the first 45 minutes in gridlock as military convoys ripped through the city blocking off random roads and making it tedious to find a parking stop, never mind for free.

Either way we got a free spot and went into Georgetown to do our assignment. Everywhere were corners jammed with people wearing Obama hats, buttons, ponchos, jackets and top hats. We waited nearly 40 minutes trying to get a damn table at a Chinese restaurant and then the waiter, god help that man, took Ed’s food away two times during the meal.

We missed the massive concert that was given at the Lincoln Memorial, but you will be able to catch it on HBO. There is a strong sense of revolution in the air…and not just in some cliché sense, but in the mindset of the people. Perhaps the revolution is truly only within, without violence.

Alright, enough zen. Tomorrow morning when we finish this piece for The Record we’ll be cruising around the city, talking to people and taking photos for all a ya’ll.

Headed to D.C. on the eve of Dr. Kings 80th birthday

2009-01-16T12:33:00.007-05:00

It hit me earlier this morning like a warm wave. Even though it's currently -48 degrees in the Midwest there is a fire burning deep in the heart of this country. I look at the events of the last 8 years and where it got us, where it got The United States of America. No one of any intelligence or insight can sit back and say "we don't need this...this change thing?"

Patterns in history continue to repeat themselves, mostly because the initiative of the people fails to augment an old routine or habit. I look back on the Bush Administration and shake my head, out
of disgusts, some nights out of anger and mostly
out of bewilderment at the actions taken.

Now see, it is the bewilderment that I get caught up on. Take Hawaii for example, my home away from home. There are 1,000 people on the West side of O'ahu that are homeless, while thousands of people can enjoy any type of hotel room and cuisine 12 miles away on the Waikiki strip. This shouldn't be the case, but it is.

America has the resources to educate and provide medical attention to our own people,but we spend it on a war (currently an estimate of nearly 1 trillion dollars) that cannot be won. It's impossible to win a war on a word. The War on Drugs, initiated but President Richard Nixon, has also spent billions upon billions of dollars in an ineffective cycle since the early 70s.

Yet teenagers across America, who could serve in a war, still cannot have a drink at a bar. So they turn to the local dealer and get hold of any drugs they want. My point, it's is the black hole of spending that needs to change in this nation.

If we educated and medicated everyone equally in this nation there would be no limit to what we could achieve in this early and confusing 21st century. My belief is that President Obama, a Hawaii-born resident, will understand the necessity for what is appropriate and worth spending money on.

The revolution begins on the eve of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s 80th birthday. It is our chance as a country to put aside problems of petty difference and lift up a country looming in serious debt, where one bank closes a week and power house newspapers are going bankrupt.

Everything has its season, its time. Young Americans came out in the millions to elect our President for the first time in this countries history. And on Tuesday the world will see something never before from this country, a senator of two years, a first generation Kenyan/Irish/African-American assuming the role of Commander and Chief. This will be the biggest party of the year. D.C. will be a swarm of people charged with hope and belief that we have overcome.

My photographer and I will be among the crazed masses. We leave Sunday on assignment for the paper, a straight shot down I-95, to get swept up in the historic swell of that warm wave that will lap at the shores of the Potomac River. Kings dream will be in 3-D come Tuesday, realized at last on the frosted streets of Washington.

I will be blogging daily during the inauguration so stay tuned.

Revelation in Twenty-Zero-Nine

2009-01-04T23:15:00.007-05:00

"Awake...

Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet...And seize the day, seize the sign of your day; the days divinity-"Jim Morrison

Winter is trying to kill me. No...seriously. Ever since that 737 skimmed down that black and frozen runway at J.F.K. it's been a totally shock to my system, along with many other things. At the stroke of midnight on New Years Eve I was puzzled as the music suddenly cut out, much to the dismay of many Brooklyn snow leopards and heaps of Italian birds, fixated on chemical reactions, as one mans voice pierced the air. Obama.

Some girl spilled ice or either broke a cheap Chinese plastic beaded necklace all over the dance floor as I passed her to find my friends who were in a corner somewhere.

"Barack Obama is my fucking president!," she screamed as I pushed through the crowd. It was surreal in every way. I felt like Rip Van Winkle, a man who partied to hard with the ghosts of Henry Hudson's surly and barbarous crew. After twenty years he awakes to find a flag with 13 stars and the British gone.
When I left The Unite State of America in September most people my age were really into Obama between zoning out on their iPods and watching too much Reality TV. I was almost certain that the hogs of war would ride again, screaming further east toward Iran, if this sort of indulgence didn't let up.

I admit, I doubted that Barry wouldn't win. The machine was so well greased-over from decades of blundered foreign policy, fortified by an entertainment industry bent on broadcasting a perpetual blinds-eye to serious issues concerning this country. It squeezed and oozed a thick and sloppy diarrhea mess of half truths, product placement, ignorant information and above all, apathetic neurological programing to the youth.

"Yes we can, yes we can." It looped over and over. A sample. my president is being sampled by a DJ I kept thinking as the music picked back up and Iignored the carnage off in the corner and that shrieking woman. I found myself warped a bit, lost in some weirdo hype that seemed to fuse YouTube, J.F.K. and "cool" marketing to promote Obama. He's a great pick and a good guy, that much I believe. But my real question is what now?

Will hippies, hipsters, Yuppies, druggies, Liberal Professors and everyone else who dug their wax soaked headphones out of their ears for 5 minutes to think clearly and pull a lever continue with this Change concept? Or will we all go back in our Tubes and Pods and "So you want to Marry a Fatso Cross-dressing Hillbilly Reverend for Billion Dollars," TV shows.

I suppose time will tell. It's late here on The Brook. I have a serious cough and the sillies. Yikes! Still, I have to give credit to the young folks that we finally belted those hogs clear in the far head with the back end of a trough shovel. And when they squealed, "No More!" we torched the machine and watched it combust in all its boiling slime.

However there is always the grease man, eager to lather up the gears and, "get her cranking again," as I have heard him say in the fouler corners of the world. Lets hope people stay alive and charged for awhile. I know I am trying to.

"Ex-Patriot you're coming home"

2008-12-28T20:28:00.006-05:00

The flight out of Rio was smooth, mostly because
I was bumped to elite first class. As the taxi drove
off for the airport I watched the city wave and bend with each turn. Sugar Loaf Mountain got smaller and smaller in the rear view window, until it was just another blur along with the rest of the mountains that make up Rio's coastline. Six days in Rio went quicker than they should have, but what else could I expect? Everything over the past four months went by too fast.

While standing in the "check-in" line I began thinking back on everything that happened. Traveling to Peru for the Spring Equinox, hitchhiking all of Chile...loosing my bank card,seeing penguins, hitchhiking for four days to Buenos Aires, Argentina from the edge of the continent, then spending 15 days there in a blur of the most maddening nightlife I have seen. Followed by a Thanksgiving in Montevideo, Uruguay and then more traveling up to Brazil, where I worked at a hostel for two weeks building lockers and a fence, then after to Rio de Janeiro where my mind was blown away by the beauty of a sunrise on Ipanema beach after a night of sexy samba.

This all happened, and in a way that I would never repeat or do again, because it was so unique for me in the moment. Overall there is a lesson in all of this that I may have figured out prematurely. The world is the same in the end. Everyone does things their own way and it always works out for them in one way or another. It's not easy to pinpoint one moment when I could say I changed, but I can say with sincerity that anytime spent on the howling Pan-American Highway can weather a man. I guess the same goes for the solitude I experienced in The Andes on the way to Argentina. You begin to realize that food and shelter is all you need at the end of the day. Things like showers, multiple outfits and deodorant(something I haven't worn in four months) all become luxuries.

Walking off the World was a voyage into self-discovery and more than just a journalism project I had been wanting to do. It was me in the southern America, alone mostly, learning that at the end of the day all you have is yourself;yourself and the will to push on through the mountains,down desert highways and, on occasions, take late-night taxi rides through dangerous ghettos. So go a little bit, then go further...

Walking off the World Part 10- Rhythms of Rio

2008-12-23T16:41:00.003-05:00

Millions of sand crystals flicker in the burning heat of the day on Copacabana Beach. Rio is both Heaven and Hell at the same time. It is full of beautiful rich people and also extremely poor people. I arrived here a week ago in the pouring rain. Since my arrival I have consistently gone to the beach every day. Rio is a city set in quite possibly the most physically beautiful locations in the world.

When the sun finally came out it stayed out and I had a tough decision every morning. Do I go to Copacabana or Ipanema? This is what has become of my life since I jetted down here nearly 4 months ago. Everything pulls and sways to the rhythms of Rio. Samba music, Funk parties and loads of African-influenced electronic music can be heard almost any night; out of the windows of cards down on Avenida Atlantic and from the walls of little kiosks on the beach. It´s been hard to catch my breath here as I look long out to sea, then up to the mountains, speckled with Favelas, and down the beach at all the beautiful people.

During the week I went to the largest Baile Funk party in Rio, coincidentally in also the biggest ghetto in the world. For those of you who have no idea what Rio Funk is picture this. A massive warehouse is full of nearly 1,000 funkeiros. Everyone is either shirtless or in minimal clothing shaking their asses to a fusion of early 90s Miami Bass mixed with crazy break beats and lyrics laced with talk of violence, women and surprise, drugs.

In any event I went to this party and it was the highlight of clubbing on this continent. Another highlight or high point is Pan do Acucar (Sugar Loaf Mountain) high above Rio. The views are spectacular for the worthy price of 20 dollars. All of Rio looks like a fortified ocean city, encircled with deep green mountains.

The evenings are warm here and despite hearing that Rio is dangerous (and knowing it´s dangerous) I have not had any problems whatsoever. Ipanema is very nice, close to Copacabana and a good option for some nightlife with the beautiful people.

Rio de Janeiro is a mythical city, perhaps Atlantis risen from the depths of the oceans of the world. It stands alone as a place of such contrast in every area, where a massive statue of Christ peers down on all.

Walking off the World Part 9-So many beachs, so little time

2008-12-12T09:55:00.004-05:00

Some of the best things in life are kept secret for a reason. When waves of people descend on the quiet town I have been staying in for the New Years this place is sure to go off. Maybe I should tell you where I am...maybe not? I can tell you folks that I am in a place between Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, a magical paradise with 90 beaches to count for.

The weather has been cooperative and I have been soaking in the warmth along the coves and beaches of this refuge from the real world. Most recently I have taken a temporary job, building fences, bunk beds and lockers for a hostel here, in exchange for a free place to stay. The vibe is excellent along with the food. Each night I have been strolling along one beach, wandering through a neighborhood and over some trails to another beach with a cove.

One night this week I was making a fire, but ran out of wood. Forgetting that the jungle here can produce all sorts of carnivores beasts I wandered down a path to get some dried palm branches. All seemed quiet...until I heard a grumbling roar of what could have been either a panther or a jaguar. Needless to say, whatever it was sent me running back to the cove without anymore fuel for the fire.

Along with the general exploration of this sample of heave I have been frequenting a craft store that at night transforms into a sing-along with many locals and yours truly. There is a peace in Brazil that resonates with me and it´s a shame that I have to leave this wonder continent in less than two weeks. There are so many beaches and so little time, that I feel my level of adventure into other places here will only skim the surface of a well kept Eden.

Walking off the World Part 8 - No rain in Brazil

2008-12-02T13:42:00.005-05:00

Maybe the title to this entry is a bit wrong at the moment. Massive rain drops are exploding on the roof of this internet cafe, but I could care less. I spent the last 4 days soaking and dancing wildly in the rain in Punta del Esta, Uruguay. Basically, since leaving Montevideo, the weather has turned on me again. However, I found comfort in the company I´ve been keeping...other rain-soaked packers. It´s funny when you stop and really think about this whole concept of Back Packing. Everyone gets together at the end of the day, all strangers. We sit and we talk and we bitch about bad hostels and rave about others, as if they are The Ritz or Hilton hotels. Everyone has their rating systems. My only request is hot water, but 80% of the time down here water has been bone-chilling. So what do you do? Not shower. That´s all you can do. Going out freezing cold is no fun and going to bed with cold wet hair only makes me cough like a husky in the morning.

One thing in common about hostels is the breakfast. Coffee, bread, caramel and butter, and that´s it. I have been living on this for nearly 3 months now and have forgotten all about eggs.

That was until this morning, when I arrived in Brazil! Finally a country that believes in combining eggs, steak and salsa for brunch. And, to my surprise, the coffee was even better then Argentine. With only a few weeks left, and my last chance to get some real sun before a horrid winter, I am leaving tonight for Sao Paulo to do some island hopping. Then it should be onto Rio de Janeiro primarily for Funk music and Funk parties. For now I am happy, because the sun just came out. Enough of this computer cafe already.

Walking off the World Part 7- North bound, Uruguay in the morning

2008-11-25T02:45:00.010-05:00

It's 10 to 6 in the morning. My body is overheating, probably from the lack of sleep. The past week or so has been a blur. When you spend ever night partying until 8 am, having breakfast and then sleeping until 3pm all sense of routine, by any healthy means, goes completely out the window. I don't even know what I did in Buenos Aires. I didn't visit museums. I didn't go to a futbol match and I didn't take tango lessons. All of that seemed to be a bit much if you ask me. I did consume several steaks, frequented many coffee shops and cringed in horror on a few taxi rides.

If you're bored of where you live, move to Buenos Aires. That's my only advice. The city is fantastic, the nightlife has no end and the food will win anyone over...even vegans. Aside from the roaring city Argentina is a wonderful country. Despite the 2001 crisis and the possiblity of even more inflation, the country truly is wonderful. People go about their lives and are proud to be Argentinos. From Ushuaia to Buenos Aires I ran into and caught rides with many nice people, people to have coffee with, talk music and politics. On one ride I met a guy who couldn't understand the concept of baseball. He just shook his head over and over saying, " I dont understand. One guy hits this small ball, runs in a circle and everyone runs away!"

I paused, this was strange I thought. And then I thought about it from where I was in the world and it was all the more confusing to me as well. Remove yourself from game and see it for what it is...a sport where one guy hits a little ball and everyone runs away with mits. I never thought of it like that...strange. I'm spending my 3rd consecutive Thanks Giving alone again. Except this time I will be on a beach in Punta del Esta, Uruguay. No leaves, stuffing or Football for me. Just sun, BBQ and futbol. Give thanks for someone important and that our country elected Obama!

Walking off the World Part 6- To the end, into the snow up out of the desert;Alive in Buenos Aires

2008-11-13T22:24:00.011-05:00

Finally folks I have surfaced from what has been one of the more insane months of my life. Hot damn! Between loosing my bank card in an ATM machine, running out of money, hunting down Western Unions, hopping cabs, barges, boats, mules and hitching all the way to Puerto Natales, Chile it is surprising that I am functional...or even alive. I was snowed in somewhere up in the Andes, got bit to death by flies while sleeping on farms from Santiago to the end of the world and all the way back up the Argentine coast. Yes, I heard Obama won (Thank God) but he has no place on this blog at the moment. Come to think of it, this moment is pretty insane. Tires are screeching and being ripped to shreds 5 floors bellow an apartment I am crashing at in Buenos Aires; The Sexiest City I have ever seen! It´s 3 am or something of that nature. My eyes are blood-shot. I am listening to Minimal Techno and now have a smoking habit. It is quite possible that I set a record for hitching nearly 50 hours in 4 days across deserts, forests and extremely boring farms all the way up Argentina.

I owe you all an explanation as to why I am sitting here, why I have filthy fucking clothing and a rat-like beard. Around the end of October I was working on a farm near Puerto Montt, Chile. Finally after realising that my bank card was not making the flight to S.A. I threw in the towel and hopped a bus into a remote lake region of Chile. From there I hiked solo into the Cordillera Andes for 3 days . Finally on the boarder of Argentina I took 3 boats down some rapids into El Bolson. From there I tried to hitch, but it was a waste of time. So I caught a bus to El Calafate to see Perrito Morreno Glacier. After that I skipped over to Chile again to Torres del Paine National Park to hike for 3 days, but 100 mph winds detoured me from completing 5. From there I hitched with a rather fat man into Argentina again and was left on the boarder. Over the course of the last 4 days the good lord showed much favor towards me and I managed to score not only air conditioned free rides, but often meals as well. Tonight I watched the sun bank over a farm as me and a nameless stranger raced at something like 130 mph for Buenos Aires that appeared as a series of monoliths in the distance. There is a balcony to my left and streets jam packed with insanity that supposedly doesn´t end until 8 or 10 in the morning. I guess I´ll find out tomorrow...when I burn this city to the ground.