No More Baby Coffins.

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We should pass a law making it illegal for anyone to build baby coffins. There is no excuse. And we need to pass a law making it illegal for anyone to do anything which will create a need for baby coffins. No more killing babies. No more allowing them to die. No more turning away from their tiny little cries and labeling them "collateral damage." Just because they're not rich or powerful does not mean we should keep killing them. What is wrong with us?

Of course that means no more war. Or, at least, none unless it is absolutely necessary to protect our country or people from the threat of imminent violence. Otherwise, no more war.

For example, when the Saudi terrorists attacked us on 9/11 (assuming that's who did it), we should not have attacked Afghanistan, one of the poorest nations in the world. How absurd is it for the U.S. military, largest and richest in the world, to send its mighty weapons to the stone-age nation of Afghanistan where the people are so poor that they starve, and live in caves, and know nothing of 9/11 or Saudis or even of airplanes. How can we justify bombing entire villages of people who had no involvement whatsoever in the 9/11 attacks? How many babies have we killed in Afghanistan?

(15 years ago a young male American, Tim McVeigh, planted a bomb in a federal building and blew it up, killing 168 people who never knew him, never did a thing to him. The building had a daycare center in it. McVeigh made sure the bomb went off when the building, and the daycare, were full of people, during the workweek. Lots of babies murdered.)

What if we had simply gone to Afghanistan after 9/11, told them we want bin Laden and al Queda. See if we could buy their cooperation. You know -- like corporations buy the politicians in Congress, like the politicians buy hookers and cocaine, like the CEOs buy mansions and wives. Why didn't we try a transactional approach first: you give us Osama bin Laden, we'll give you money. Wouldn't that be the decent thing to do? It would have saved a lot of babies' lives.

The nuclear bomb we used at the end of World War II was supposed to be the weapon to end all weapons -- and we had it. Nobody could touch us, because we had the superweapon. Until everyone else got it. Isn't that what children do? Dream of the bigger weapon, the most powerful, the baddest of all so that we can always win the war? Children. Not adults.

(As always, in Oklahoma City we counted on our civil servants, the heroic firefighters, to try to save our citizens, save the babies.)

Now we have drones. Predators. People sit in rooms in the U.S. and look at computer screens of images from satellites. At random, they push a button and drop bombs on anything that moves. They kill babies all over Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan, but never even see the corpses. No baby blood or brains splatter on these men who are safely ensconsed in their air-conditioned war rooms, far from the dying, far from the pathetic little cries of the babies.

(As always, people came to the spot of the Oklahoma city bombing and left personal property items for the dead, for the babies, little things that maybe the baby or child loved. Something that perhaps magically can pass through this world to another one and send love to the dead baby, now gone, alone, never to be comforted by a mother or father again).

What's the thinking here? We can send drones from far away, nobody can stop us? How about when the other nations all get the same technology? What then? Will we all get magic cloaks to make us invisible? Will we go back to the space-shield of that demented senile old B-movie actor Ronald Reagan? Isn't it time we took weapons and war out of the hands of men who are so immature and self-absorbed that they refuse to acknowledge the most obvious truth: it's still murdering babies. Nothing has changed. Killing babies is not the work of civilized people. Or decent ones.

We need to stop killing babies. No more baby coffins.

Hey Carly Feel-Her-Weenie: Don't Call Me Ma'am Either.

Carly Fiorini, whose primary accomplishment in her entire life is that she almost drove Hewlett Packard into the dirt, has now decided that she wants to be a Senator. So she's going to try to get the Republican nomination to run against Senator Barbara Boxer in California. She won't get my vote.

As part of her fund-raising program, she is inundating right-wingers with a video clip of a hearing before the Senate during which Senator Barbara Boxer was questioning General Walsh. In one of his responses, General Walsh called Senator Barbara Boxer "ma'am." Senator Barbara Boxer interrupted the General, and asked him to please call her "Senator," because she worked so hard for the title. He then said Yes, Senator.

I don't know if the General was trying to be offensive or insulting to Senator Boxer. I suspect he knew exactly what he was doing. People in the military are like European Royalty, highly conscious of titles and envious of those with higher titles. Does anyone doubt that if Senator Boxer had called Walsh "Mr. Walsh" he wouldn't have done the same thing -- asked her to call him by his title, General Walsh?

If this is Carly Fiorini's best shot (and I suspect it is), she's lost already. No need to wait for the election. Carly Fiorini at one time was the CEO of Hewlett Packard ("HP'). When she became CEO in 1999, the HP stock was valued at $52/share. By 2005, when Fiorini was fired (actually the Board of Directors forced her to resign) the HP stock was valued at only $21/share, for a 60% loss in stock value during her reign. Tough luck for the shareholders.

Luckily for Fiorini, she had one of those corporate insider golden parachutes, so despite her resounding failure, she ended up being paid $20 million to leave the company. Since getting fired in such a spectacular manner, Fiorini has done such useless and despicable things as work for the Fox Business Network, work for George W. Bush, and work on the John McCain election campaign (where she notably and quite publicly said that Sarah Palin was not qualified to even run a business like HP).

Now Fiorini has apparently decided that since she's been such a failure at other things, maybe she should become a politician herself. And she plans to do that by attacking and demeaning Senator Barbara Boxer in the most personal and sexist way possible.

I'm very tired of seeing men treat women in a demeaning way just to try to one-up them in some exchange. I think lots of women feel the same way. Carly Fiorini is adopting a tactic that we might expect from the most right-wing males in the country. Since she's trying so hard to act like some pathetic insecure male, I think from now on I'm going to call her Carly Feel-Her-Weenie.

Gun Morons Have Play Date, Wander Aimlessly.

(Hey wait a minute -- what's he got stuffed inside his shirt? An ammo belt? I think the only thing this old fat white man needs to fear is back trouble and heartburn from all the fried eggs he downs every morning -- with a side of french fries and gravy).

The AP is reporting that the big gun-rallies scheduled around D.C. today have been attended by "dozens" of people. That by itself makes me laugh. Really? Dozens? Any crowd control problems?

But the most absurd part is when you see the pictures. A bunch of old ignorent white men who are just terrified because a black man is President. Not just any black man -- a really smart one. They're afraid maybe Obama can read their thoughts -- and he'll come and get them!

Here's the thinking: if Obama sends the Marines to get these guys, they'll hold off the Marines with their shotgun and pea-shooter hand-pistols. More likely they'll get drunk and shoot their neighbor. Or wife or kids.

Or maybe they're being paid to be out there. Unemployed, nothing better to do. Show up, walk around with a sign, look like a fool. What's it pay?

You wonder where these people get their news. Just kidding. Obviously they listen to the deaf drug addict on the radio, and the rent-boys at Rupert Murdoch's Whorehouse. Who, for whatever bizarre reasons, have convinced these old white dudes that somebody is going to take away their guns. Have I missed something? Is there some pending legislation to seize weapons? No, there isn't. Nobody said anything about guns, boys. Go home and take a nap. You'll feel better later. And lay off the fried food.

One of the morons trying to incite violence, a dude from Alabama (we are not surprised) told the assembled old guys that "armed confrontation" should be reserved for instances of the government threatening people's lives. But then he explained that if the governmend tried to arrest someone because they didn't have health insurance, that might be good enough. I wonder where he studied law? University of U-R-Stupid?

Tokyo Rose and Axis Sally Were Sexy Women Used In Propaganda by Fascists In the Past To Undermine The Forces of Democracy.

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(Tokyo Rose)

The modern right-wing in this country isn't the first group to use pretty women, mouthing sexual innuendo joined with violent images, as the voice of propaganda, to try to undermine the forces of democracy. During World War II, the Japanese used a group of English-speaking women to read propaganda on the radio aimed at Americans fighting against Japan. They named the fictional woman "Tokyo Rose," although in fact there were many women who were reading the broadcasts.

The Germans also had a sexy-babe broadcasting on the radio to the American and Allied troops. She was called Axis Sally.

(Axis Sally)

Sarah Palin is the modern-day right-wing version of the sexy female propaganda agent. Her own knowledge or belief is not of any particular interest, because she is a spokesperson for the right-wing. It doesn't matter if she does or does not read newspapers because other people tell her what to say. Remember, her biggest boost onto the national stage came from the deaf drug addict on the radio. Her ascent to national politics was not premised on her intellect or experience. It was based upon the fact that she was pretty, and willing to say outrageous things to stir up the right-wing voters. She's still doing it, and is being richly rewarded.

Why can't we build a wall along our northern border to keep her out? We could call it the Sarah Wall. And tell Sarah to take that crazy Michelle Bachman back to the mooselodge with her.

(Note the frequent use in the Tokyo Rose broadcast of violent descriptions combined with a sexy voice. The fascists must have done studies that showed that combining sexual innuendo with violent images would evoke a strong emotion in the listener. An awful lot like Sarah Palin with her cute little winks, clever sayings and put-downs, hopping around like a cheerleader in public, then giving instructions to her groupies about how to deal with the Democrats: re-Load!)

Translation

Tokyo Rose: Hello you fighting orphans in the Pacific. Hows tricks? This is after her weekend, and oooh, back on the air, strictly under union hours. Reception okay? Why, it better be, because this is All-Requests night. And I've got a pretty nice program for my favorite little family, the wandering boneheads of the Pacific Islands. The first request is made by none other than the boss. And guess what? He wants Bonnie Baker in "My Resistance is Low". My, what taste you have, sir, she says.

Tokyo Rose: Thank you, thank you, thank you. That's all for now enemies, but there'll be more the same tomorrow night. Until then, this is Orphan Ann, your number one enemy, reminding you GI -- always to be good! Goodbye now.

Tokyo Rose: Greetings, everybody! This is your No. 1 enemy, your favorite playmate, Orphan Ann on Radio Tokyo--the little sunbeam whose throat you'd like to cut! Get ready again for a vicious assault on your morale, 75 minutes of music and news for our friends--I mean, our enemies!--in the South Pacific. (unintelligible)...what you need is a good dad, I mean pop. Just relax, all set? Okay, here's the first blow at your morale, here's him singing and singing, "Hey, Pop, I Don't Want to Go to Work (War)." Thanks for listening.

Tokyo Rose: That's all for now enemies,but there'll be more the same tomorrow night. Until then, this is Orphan Ann, your number one enemy, reminding you GI -- always to be good! Goodbye now.

April Smith and the Great Picture Show

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Wow and Flutter.

The Provincetown Players

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(Provincetown, Massachusetts -- old structure used as a theatre)

In the summer of 1915, a group of friends vacationing in Provinceton, Massachusetts put on informally staged plays that they had written, performing them in their vacation houses or on the porch for their friends. From such humble beginnings arose a new form of modern American theater.

Soon other friends and neighbors heard about these performances and clamored to be invited or included, so other plays were put on. One of the originators of the group, Mary Heaton Vorse, owned a wharf with a small building on it, and soon they took over the building to use as their theater, and called themselves The Provincetown Players.

The first plays they put on were Constancy by Neith Boyce, and Suppressed Desires by George Cram Cook and Susan Glaspell.

(Staging a play)

Most of the people in this creative group lived during the year in Greenwich Village in New York City. When they returned to the city at the end of their vacation, they told all their friends about the plays they had put on during their summer vacation, and soon other writers, artists and actors were eager to participate for the following year.

In the movie "Reds," based on the life of John Reed (played by Warren Beatty), this creative community in Provincetown is featured in one section. Reed, his wife Louise Bryant, poet Harry Kemp, editor of The Masses Max Eastman, Ida Rauh, Floyd Dell, and Eugene O'Neill (having an affair with Bryant) all came to Provincetown the next year to put on or participate in the new summer theater group.

In the first few seasons, the group put on several of Eugene O'Neill's plays, as well as plays by Susan Glaspell. In later years they put on plays by other young new writers including plays by Reed, Bryant, Theodore Dreiser, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Wallace Stevens.

(Eugene O'Neill - right- at Provincetown, Mass.)

In the second season, the young Edna St. Vincent Millay joined the group as an actress. She soon also submitted plays she had written, including an anti-war play titled Aria da Capo, which was put on by the theatre group. Among the members of the audience were Emma Goldman, whose niece and nephew were both involved with the theater group.

In the fall of 1916, the Provincetown Players (as they called themselves) officially moved to New York City, renting a brownstone at 139 MacDougal Street in Greenwich village, close to Washington Square. By their second year in New York, they had enough audience subscribers that they decided to take a larger space, a few doors down at 133 MacDougal Street.

(133 MacDougal St.)

133 MacDougal Street had been a stable at one time, but before the theatre group took over it had been used as a bottling plant. It was perfect for the theatre group. This location (133-139 MacDougal) was renovated over the years, altered in many ways, but recently has been the subject of a dispute between NYU (New York University) which owns the building and wants to convert it for other uses, and a historical preservation site that wants to maintain the site as a historical treasure of the city.

(MacDougal St., after many renovations)

Eventually tensions arose between the original founders of the theatre group and the new upcoming artists. As the theatre group became more successful, they had over 1600 subscribers, and became a well-established theatre. There was a temptation to select plays which, if successful, could be moved into larger theatres and generate more money for the group. This tension contrasted with the desire of some to put on plays that would stretch the audience's understanding of life, and perhaps be less popular for that reason.

By 1922, these tensions caused the group to split apart. O'Neill and some others took over, and continued putting on plays. One play had black American actor Paul Robeson kneeling and kissing the hand of a white actress. This caused such a frenzy that the police came to the theatre and surrounded it, because of threats that had been made.

(Provincetown mixed-race cast)

Over the years of its existence, the Provincetown Players was known for putting on a new form of theatre, as well as including plays by woman playwrights, and having both black and white actors in their plays. All of these things were important influences on the development of theatre in New York.

The group continued to function with varying characters until 1929 when the stock market crash ended its run, and the Provincetown Players disbanded, the members going on to pursue their talents in other places. The Federal Theatre Project (part of the WPA) used the theatre in the 1930s to create theatre projects and train actors, teachers, and set designers. NYU now owns the building where the Provinceton Players performed at 133 MacDougal, and plans to substantially change its structure.

(MacDougal St., after many renovations)

As far as I know, NYU has begun construction on the street with promises that it would maintain at least the shell of the Provincetown Playhouse, to retain some of the historical significance of the building.

April 15, 1947: Jackie Robinson Takes The Field As A Brooklyn Dodger, The First Black Player In Major League Baseball.

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Major league baseball in this country was segregated for over 50 years, with black players excluded altogether. Black baseball players had their own league, called the Negro Baseball League.

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson, a black baseball player, stepped onto Ebbets field in Brooklyn as a Brooklyn Dodger, the first black American to join a major league baseball team. Robinson's uniform number was 42.

Robinson was a gifted athlete. He was born to a family of sharecroppers, but ended up going to college at UCLA and lettered in four varsity sports, including baseball. He joined the army in 1942. After he got out of the army, Robinson played in the Negro American League.

Robinson was recruited by the Brooklyn Dodgers general manager, Branch Rickey, to join a Dodgers farm team, eventually being called up to the majors in 1947. When Robinson took the field at Ebbetts Field, sixty-three years ago today, he was the first black person ever to play Major League Baseball. He was named the National League Rookie of the Year in 1947, and MVP and league batting champ in 1949. Robinson was a critical presence on the Dodger team, leading them to playoff spots and to the World Series. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962.

In 1997, every team in the major leagues officially "retired" uniform number 42, which was the number on Jackie Robinson's uniform.


Even though the Dodgers brought Jackie Robinson into their team, the rest of the country was not so eager to abandon segregation. Robinson faced racist hatred and harassment throughout his career, and often was not allowed to eat in the same restaurants or sleep in the same hotels as his other team members while the Dodgers were on the road. Robinson became a businessman after he left baseball, and supported civil rights his whole life. He died at the age of 53.

(Baseball Hall of Fame)