Nimmo has previously worked for NATO and the Integrity Initiative, a covert UK govt troll farm. His move to Facebook suggests more censorship on the way for anti-establishment voices.
This report was originally published by Mint Press News.
This report was originally published by Mint Press News.
11 February 2021 — Institute of Race Relations
If a Telegraph interview with the government’s ‘independent adviser on political violence and disruption’ is anything to go by (see our calendar on racism and resistance), a review of the activities of the ‘extreme fringes at both ends of the political spectrum’ will focus extensively on the threat posed by so-called ‘progressive extremism’ – ie, environmental and racial justice causes, despite the admission that the far Right presents a greater danger. Bristol following the fall of Colston, which we publish this week on IRR News, reveals just how BLM and decolonisation activists (presumably those progressive extremists) are already treated as a threat to the state. Rosie Wild reports on recent protests in Bristol in support of the ‘Colston Four’, who have been charged with criminal damage for the toppling of the statue, and how their online protests have been hijacked by racists.
6 February 2021 — Edward Curtin
Tolstoy’s grave on the edge of the ravine at his estate Yasnaya Polyana
“Ясная поляна, могила Л.Н. Толстого 2” by Alexxx1979 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
After a night of haunting dreams that flowed as if they were written like running water, written on air, as the Roman poet Catullus once said, in the depth of a dark winter morning, I decided that I would take a walk in the afternoon, hoping that the sun would then appear, and it did, so I went walking toward the woods through deep white new-fallen snow all around me and entered a path into the woods across from my house that led toward a deep ravine below which were deep dark caves that once sheltered runaway slaves searching for the happiness of freedom, and I thought of them as I poked under the snow on the odd chance that I might find the green stick of happiness that Leo Tolstoy’s beloved brother, ten-year-old Nikolai, had once told the five-year-old Leo was buried by a ravine on the edge of the forest, a stick upon which were written the secret words that would bring love, peace, and happiness to everyone, and would do away with death, for their mother had died three years earlier and their father would die four years later, but I saw nothing and continued deeper into the forest to try to shed a sad feeling from a lock-down that had brought my spirits low as I tried to understand why so many people I knew were so enslaved, their minds forged in manacles, and how sad and dispirited it made me knowing that they were locked away from me in some conventional reality sold to them by liars, but perhaps you like the word depressed and you can use it if you want, but all I know is that the spirit of happiness had escaped me as I trudged deeper into the forest between the high pine trees until the trail I walked was intersected by another and a man met me there, as if he knew I was coming, a man with a long white beard and piercing eyes and we nodded and then he continued beside me and asked me what I was looking for, which startled me, and I was speechless and he said he’s been through here many times, especially by the ravine, and Leo told me he never could find the green stick of happiness his brother once told him was buried there but he was not giving up, he never would do that since he loved his brother who would never lie, he knew the stick existed and that’s why he himself was buried there, and he told me to continue seeking, because the stick was real and yes, those slaves knew it and were in that ravine for a reason, so we walked on as a man approached us who said his name was Albert, and I said Camus, and he said yes, let’s walk together guys, for these woods are dark and deep I know, but look up at the sky, the clouds have parted and the sparkling sky is speaking to us, right Leo, who said yes, I remember when Andrei in my book War and Peace lay wounded on the battlefield and looked at the sky, I wrote that he realized then that that lofty sky was infinite and that happiness was possible, that especially in the midst of battle you have to look up and realize that, that there are deeper reasons for things and petty concerns shield the spirit of truth and that even in the midst of war you can glimpse that reality, and it sounded good, I had heard their spiels before, or had read them to be accurate, they were great writers but this was my life and I couldn’t live in their books, but I wasn’t reading, I was walking, or was I dreaming, and then we came to the end of the path leading out of the woods and the sky opened out from the vast tree cover and they were gone and I was all alone again as usual, dispirited and heading back home on the road by the lake when I looked up at the sparkling blue sky and light that radiated off the snowy frozen lake and rose back to the sky in columns of undulating glory and felt the sun that had warmed the day and heard birds in the trees and was overwhelmed with a rush of happiness I can’t describe but it was not a dream and I walked in joy for a few minutes, knowing I had found the stick and that in the depth of winter, as Albert said, I had finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer, but that it came and went like running water, like flowing air, but it was enough for now.
Albert Camus with his best friend Michel Gallimard, both of whom died from a car crash on 4 January 1960. On the right is Jeannine, Michel’s wife, who survived the crash.
“Albert Camus, Michel y Jeannine Gallimard” by Antonio Marín Segovia is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
11 February 2021 — Media Lens
As we saw in Part 1, in 1914 and again in 1939, millions of men and women welcomed war. Arnold Ridley and his pals did make this choice, but in reality the choice had been made for them by decades and centuries of the relentless ‘patriotic’ propaganda described by Tolstoy, which most people were powerless to resist.
11 February 2021 — Tricontinental
Greetings from the desk of the Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research.
In the early months after the World Health Organisation announced the coronavirus pandemic, the Indian novelist Arundhati Roy wrote of her hope that the pandemic would be a ‘portal, a gateway between one world and the next’. She hoped, in other words, that the world would recognise its grave problems, exacerbated by the pandemic, and that there would be an opening towards a reorganisation of the social structures. Nothing like that is possible unless the class character of the states in the majority of the world is transformed.
11 February 2021 — Good Law Project
Correspondence from Government shows it plans to claim a staggering £500k-600k in costs for a one day hearing of a judicial review challenge to a contract awarded by Dominic Cummings to his friends at Public First. The higher figure is more than the total value of the Public First contract of £564k.
11 February 2021 — The New Dark Age
Ecuador’s US-Backed ‘Ecosocialist’ Candidate Yaku Pérez Aids The Right-Wing
10 February 2021 — Black Agenda Report
Margaret Kimberley, BAR senior columnist
Forced labor of Uyghurs in China is questionable, but there is absolute proof that incarcerated people in this country are forced to work for little or no pay.