2010.06.10(Thursday)

For many reasons Pits and Poisoned Apples haven't post new articles for a while, mainly because lots of things happened, and one of them was my backpack being stolen during a gathering, which contained the passport. Shit happened, and it hurt when you became the one who had to go to Jakarta and listen to everyone's talking bad about Indonesians. That's right, when you came to the  Indonesia government, there's nothing for free. For instance, I ended up spending three days for a stupid police report(for applying for a new passport,) and went between different police stations, imagine what would happened if I paid some "fee?" Things were much easier, I guess. When I spent almost all my money to get here, the Taiwanese officer was so concerned my safety, for I live in the collective house(which of course I did not tell him), he even offered staying in his place for being afraid of raiding by the police. Nevertheless, I still could not get a new passport. it simply throws the problem back to the immigration, for approving my visa. Well done!

Police do not solve the problem: they are the problem. Police is a state corporation itself, which robs people with authorized violence and power. How you justify your fear when you are the one who try tolerating them with bribery, and depending on them to protect your ownership? we do not fix and justify the problem at the same time.

Excuse a thief, dear street warrior 

for again walking off with a life story

When they've left you broke without

TV

Mobil

Rumah and Rupiah

kretek and meal

sky and everyday

stale Life.

Though you are just twittering

"those fuckin' Chinese"

when he signals "sorry no free ride today"

with disdain and fear.

A story in which characters are not even recognized.

not fade but plummet, crushed.

Two faces I see in the gig

a young lady 

with a baby armed in Misfits sleeves and kissed with pierced lips.

You know in my isle, streets are of police and the dickhead bosses.

Now I see a street punk mother.

No climax, twist and even a comma

how to finish a story like this?

Running into a mindless truck

at Jambi Street

no alcohol and smoking during the gig

still a living is taken

on that street.

Nowhere husband and truck driver are.

Grandma and a little child

unpaid bills 

invisible frustration and helplesness.

A kindness 

rejected by an angry father, shouting:

"you punks killed my daughter!"

when you are at the door

with collected money 

from the plastic cups tighted upon the guitars.

A makeup from the traffic light scene.

An end of a story, and yours not.

still a drunk punk in front of the mall at the corner under the traffic light

guitar chord played and lyrics shouted everyday, 

empty pocket or not.

and you tell me you pray to God for a reason I can't remember

How I wish that ashole is here with an honest walking man.

It is simply so laughable when you read Pits and Poisoned Apples via google translate tool. try it on the top of the right sidebar!

The latest video from Wikileaks, titled 'Collateral Murder,' on April 3rd, 2010, depicting a military mission in July, 2007, when 12 civilians, including 2 reporters from Reuters, were killed by 30mm cannon on the Apache helicopter. According to a former individual, now members of Iraq Veterans against War, the whole operation by no means violates the standard procedure and was on the base of everyday military practice. The Reuters asked the Pentagon for this video in accordance with the Freedom of Information Act but received no response. The 12 murdered civilians include two children who was on the way to school with their father, also dead, driving them to the school. The father was shot dead when he tried to give a hand to the injured reporters.

The video leads not only severe criticism on individual soldiers about their morality, since they obviously noticed the two child were injured and laugh at the civilian bodies. The further response from campaign like Iraq Veterans against War remind people that a problematic military system and patriotic ideology exist, though they do not attempt to morally justify the deed, which in my opinion they did try to distract the attention at some point. It also reminds me of how everyone from the left focus on the US healthcare reform yet let go the adding of more GIs into Afghanistan and Obama's stand on nuclear technology control instead of giving up the nuclear idea...i think of "I am not morally justifying anything but..." and how people make themselves as rational as they can and are too scared of being an angry bitch...

• Democracy Now!--'Veteran of Military Unit Involved in 2007 Baghdad Helicopter Shooting Says Incident Is Part of Much Larger Problem'

For a half year I did not feel any thrills from anything; it was a feeling of adrenaline-bombard over the head, with the mixed smell of body odor and cigarette-butts. This feeling keeps pushing me to do some public-facility-fucking-up, to ride a bike and read out loud the poem or manifesto come up into my head, or simply participate whatever and grab anything and write and document and sleep for 4 hrs and wake up...Yeah! No. seldom this feeling come into my me for this half year. Most of the time I am just confused, about how friends keep saying solidarity becomes the one alienates everyone the most often, how an artivist becomes a social elite and how every protest becomes a trade-off. Nevertheless I am the most confused about and pissed by myself. For bitching others I am simply conscious of the passiveness about myself. And when it comes to any exciting project, it's just like a flash and after three or four weeks what I wanted to do were left behind.

Then here I am in Medan, Indonesia. I consider something here give me the cure and provide me a solution. Not yet happened at least these two weeks. I sit in the house, thinking about the roosters and cats. Drunken street punks. Cheap weed. Sour tuak. Punk and many more punks and then punks only. Then I felt the hollowness for being in punk scene. For after all these years it's just beer-can piles and cigarretes and stupid jokes and mosh-pits and same idiotic identity problems of who is punk and who is not... Then those punk kids 10 years ago are either smart enough or normal enough not to claim him or herself as a punk...

So it is all within a minute when I stop buying any hype of micro-ism or guerilla warfare in everyday practice or ithcy adbusters...,and start to miss the enemies and friends and a tiny possibility of radicalness without any posterity and pretension. Finally I am secured now.