though it is definitely not a comprehensive list of all of the topics I will be attempting to cover. I am sure I will end up expanding upon it considerably. I also started the creation of the website on which I am planning on recording my findings. Using my current outline, I designed multiple tabs that encompass the different categories I will be delving into during my investigation. I took a screen shot of the beginnings of my website (at left). Thus far it is still just a skeleton but eventually it will encompass the entire project. 
In addition to enabling the rant video, technology also assisted Bieber's fans in committing some temporary digital vandalism against Spalding's wikipedia entry. Today, Because of you,
It filled, blurred, and lingered in my eyes
Before banishment away
The reel I thought had burned at conclusion
Smoulders in a memory – spits fire –
From two stones pestle into dust
Within this willing mortal.
(Is this why, in the conjoined spirals, hesitation laced inclination?)
Minute moments of Minute pleasures
Exiled into antiquity…
Carefully, meticulously, I pick gossamer cobwebs,
Arrange faint strands of distinction around your site ends
So breathlessly
Pull back the drapes of time.
And how have you been? Cloven of my flesh.
The grains of sand mingle with the téars of my palm
And remember when it was rock.
when it was quarry.
when it was older.
And lay as boulders, beneath the mountain’s
Base.
My clenched fists cannot – do not –
Hold memory,
They clutch at individuals.
There will be no living in the sarcophagus,
For you have rotten in the crypt I have kept you.
Fan the smoke into combustion,
We must burn it all down, these,
The abodes of old.
Softly trickle the boulder – wasted away –
Return it to the desert.
Smoothing the layers –
I bury,
Prayers,
Under,
Each,
: Because mirrors underlaid the screening.
.Because mirrors underlay the screening :
This is a picture of our trip to maine the sunset was beautifulThis is a picture of our trip to maine the sunset was beautiful This is a picture of our trip to maine the sunset was beautiful This is a picture of our trip to maine the sunset was beautiful
Who are the Media?
IN these great United States The First Amendment protects the freedom of the press, a right for media to exist in whatever outrageous form it might be manifest in.
For the average American, this freedom is taken for granted but in places around the world, it is much more difficult and dangerous to attempt to Free the Press.
According to the French NGO Reporters Without Borders the United States ranks 20th in their annual "Press Freedom Index" behind Germany, Japan, Austria, Lithuania, the UK, and all of Scandinavia. Aside from being middle-of-the-pack among industrialized nations, many key US allies around the world are embarrassingly low on the French RSF's index, such as Yemen in 170th, Tunisia in 164th, Pakistan in 151st, Mexico in 136th, Israel in 132nd, Iraq in 130th, and Egypt in 127th.
As you might have learned from the link above, an Egyptian journalist was shot while covering the protests in Tahrir Square in Cairo. In fact, in addition to this singular tragedy, journalists across Egypt covering the weeks of youth-ignited rallies were under fire from the military as well as Mubarak's executive security forces.
Notably, American CNN Journalist Anderson Cooper was attacked by violent Pro-Mubarak protesters, probably hired by the same people responsible for this.
Let us not forget that our government was deep in bed with Mubarak's 30 year regime, offering them $1.3 billion in aid annually, second only in US aid to Israel. More recently President Obama has come out in favor of the throngs of Egyptians camping out in Tahrir Square, demanding their basic human rights, including the freedom of press. The irony is that we spent literally billions of dollars over the last 30 years oppressing these very same people. Pardon my French, but what balls Obama has to step up and pretend to support these people.
In fact the United States has been perpetrating this same foreign policy feint for decades. Supporting oppressive regimes that benefit us economically while ignoring their human rights violations on the one hand, and deposing other autocrats or "dangerous powers" in advantageous situations with impunity on the other.
Probably this is a tiny, distant idea to you. There seems to be almost no one who will admit this openly, on television, in print, in any media in this country. The exception is of course the internet, as well as Dr. Noam Chomsky, who has been trying to prove and popularize this viewpoint for decades.
The question I began this post with "Who are the Media ?" has unequivocally not been answered, but its led me to observe and critique some pre-received ideas about how free our press is.
The allegory, although basic, is at its core, highly explanatory. The larger hands and the smaller heads of the villagers mirror our larger craniums suited to higher brain function and capacity. The villagers likewise must use their hands to harvest and plant their seeds in the earth.
The field represents the platonic notion of forms in that they are the ideas that everybody can tap into. The process of harvesting and planting is the notion of the creative process: in essence, they transform the ideas which ‘float around in space (the scene is set in an alien land)’ personally through their given fields.
When Presston, play on the word “press” from the “printing press”, creates a connection to another group of people and thoughts he opens up a dialogue and a multitude of new ideas (the seeds from the sides of the paths). Currency is established in order to trade to the optimum. In our own world the printing press essentially made it possible for us to exchange aesthetic and literary content.
Enter Trenneti; – an anagram for Internet – she opens up an exponentially larger set of connections. Likewise, if the press could be depicted as the one path, the internet has opened up a miasma of different interconnections and exchange. Knowing about these paths, she is able to stay one step ahead of her village, selling their wares as her own. This is analogous to matters of intellectual property such as internet piracy.
Allegory:
At some point in the continuum of time in a land far far away (as all social allegories must start) there is a rather disk shaped plain. It is not so different from the geographical world the Ancient Greeks envisioned. Now, in the middle of this plane is a circular field of grain. But it is not just any kind of grain – yes, it provides nourishment, but not particularly of the body. The heads nod slowly in the alien breeze; it is quite a sight to see: perhaps, the most amazing thing is their splendid coloring. It is not quite an alternating image of rainbows, but if you’ve ever seen a bubble of soap: (like the ones children blow in the happy parks of our own dear world) that is what it most closely resembles.
Surrounding this epicenter of grain are villages. Small and quaint – by human standards it would be aptly described as simple. The inhabitants of this village are humanoid, but with one exception. They have small heads and instead have extremely large hands. I am also under the impression that they have nerves that we do not have in their hands. Each village member dwells on a plot of land and on this land they plant flowers and vegetables of every kind. These plants all die within a few days; they are either harvested or traded within the village for other flowers or vegetables. And each village member, each third day takes a delicate harvesting device and heads to the center of the plain. Once at the field they carefully collect the heads of grain and carry their loads back, planting them in their plots of land. It should be mentioned at this point that these grains never yield the same crop. It is as though there is a sack of seeds with only one type each of seed. So trade between village members is always quite active.
There are quite a few villages around the field, but they do not know about each other. One member of a village, we shall call him Presston decides one day that he would like to know what is on the other side of the field. He makes preparations and sets off, after a week and a half (these creatures do not have as much need for food as we) he parts the grains of the last metre and comes out into the plain again. Following a path he comes to a village not unlike his but oh! the plants in this village. They were so exotic: shapes sizes and colors that Presston had never seen before. Presston, being what we would call a natural businessman, decides that the people back in his village must experience these vegetables and flowers. Journeying back, he begins to pull out - from the roots - the stalks of grain, ultimately clearing a direct path from village to village.
This opens up a frenzy of trade. The villagers from the other side had also never seen the likes of the plants of Presston’s village. The villagers collectively come up with a system of exchange involving tokens; many generations pass. For no known reason, nobody has opened up another path, like Presston had done. Until Trenneti. Trenneti has an even more ambitious idea; she takes a blade and begins to clear many paths going to 8 points of the compass originating from the center of the center. She discovers 8 different villages. She finds that these villages also possess plants that have never been seen before. Trade reaches a new frenzy.
(Readers should also take note that the grains from the stalks on either side of the paths cleared also yielded plants never seen before.)
Trenneti, also being, what we would call, a natural businesswoman, discovers that if she keeps track of who is selling what plants at which location she is able to trade what her fellow villagers have produced. The villagers of Trenneti’s village trade in a clockwork pattern, visitng village by village. Trenneti simply keeps one mark ahead of her village.
The villagers, for obvious reasons, become angry but they cannot seem to identify and therefore catch Trenneti.
Thus the now connected community of the plain trade and farm and attempt to trade and farm first, their flowers and vegetables, counting their marks always.
