The invasion of Iraq has begun.

I’d thought it might be interesting to examine the human rights records of the countries who have aligned themselves with the “Coalition of the Willing.” Of the 30 countries in support of the invasion, only three — Estonia, Denmark and the Netherlands — have not been cited by either Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch for human rights abuses.

Among the other 27 (not all of whom are democracies), there is a litany of human rights abuse, some of it on par with what happens in Iraq. Although there are few countries that can approach Iraq in terms of sheer brutality, it should be noted that these 27countries sometimes come close.

You can view the document here. Feel free to link to it or steal it and paste it on your own site.

From September 1, 1949
by W.H. Auden

All I have is a voice
To undo the unfolded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky :
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone ;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police ;
We must love one another or die.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies ;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic flashes of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages :
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

[via Poems about War]

Rachel Corrie 1979-2003

Scoop: Rachel Corrie in her own words

Rachel Corrie was a 23 year old American student who was killed by a bulldozer as she tried to stop the demolition of some Palestinian houses in the Gaza Strip.

This is from an email she sent her parents in February, just after she arrived in the Middle East.

“Today as I walked on top of the rubble where homes once stood, Egyptian soldiers called to me from the other side of the border, “Go! Go!” because a tank was coming. Followed by waving and “what’s your name?”. There is something disturbing about this friendly curiosity. It reminded me of how much, to some degree, we are all kids curious about other kids: Egyptian kids shouting at strange women wandering into the path of tanks. Palestinian kids shot from the tanks when they peak out from behind walls to see what’s going on. International kids standing in front of tanks with banners. Israeli kids in the tanks anonymously, occasionally shouting– and also occasionally waving–many forced to be here, many just aggressive, shooting into the houses as we wander away”.

Cody Clark blogs his wife’s pie:

“In the land of the Suburbanites, in the tribe of Clark, there was a High Priestess named Heidi who served God and ruled justly, slow to wrath and abounding in kindness. And in her reign the people were happy, for the land flowed with home cooking and every domestic goodness.

It was on the feast day of Saint Patrick that the Lord came to his priestess Heidi and said unto her: �Heidi, my good and faithful servant, you are chosen this day to do my work.� Heidi, though she was shaken with astonishment, replied, �Whatever you will, my Lord, I shall do.�

And the Lord spake unto her: �You shall bring forth a pie such as none in this land has seen, that my name be praised. There shall be a homemade crust, not store-bought as the law does permit, but made by your hand from scratch so that all may taste and my name be praised. And in the crust shall be fresh cream and bananas and coconut and all manner of rich fare. And on this pie shall be real whipped cream, not from a container, as the law does permit, but fresh cream whipped by your hand, that all may wonder at the glory of their God. Sprinkle atop the pie crushed macadamia nuts and toasted coconut that it may be pleasing to the eye and increasing in flavor. Divide the pie into wedges and serve it with coffee, that the people may rejoice and praise their God.� And then the Lord left her to prepare His offering.

The Priestess Heidi did prepare the Pie of the Lord and did show it to the people, who grew wide-eyed and wondered, �What manner of dessert is this that it is prepared by hand and not with shortcuts made common by permit of the law? What love brought forth this labor?� But when the pie was served, all speaking ceased, and the people paid homage, partaking of the pie with reverence. When the pie was eaten all went forth holding their stomachs, moaning praises to God.

And so it was that the Pie of the Lord was brought to the tribe of Clark in the land of the Suburbanites. And His glory was increased.

Poetry by Derek Walcott

The latest little project — a collection of poetry by Derek Walcott.

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.