By Mark Finkelstein | November 6, 2007 - 07:16 ET Will Joe Scarborough be sent to NBC's environmentalist re-education camp and subjected to an endless loop of "An Inconvenient Truth"? The "Morning Joe" host gave a number of hints today that he is less-than-thrilled by the doctrinaire environmentalism the network is imposing on viewers and employees alike during its "Green Week."

OCTOBER 08, 2007 BBC WORLD

Do you know a counter revolutionary? Sometimes you just know it. Inform your political officer of his evil and decadent collectivist ideologies. Only by informing authorities will we be able to abolish, crush and eliminate the anti capitalist. The Anti capitalist seeks to enslave you. The anti capitalist is not your friend. The anti capitalist is not your family. Report all anti capitalists for political re-education and ideological purification. The anti capitalist can be healed, the anti capitalist can be fixed. It is your civic duty to report the anti capitalist. It is your civic duty to report counter revolutionaries. It is your civic duty to report the reactionary elements. Only by working together can we destroy the anti capitalistic mentality. Only by working together can the people's world Libertarian revolution succeed. Only by working together can the Libertarian Liberation Front emerge as the righteous victor!

Character profile doc on my rad friend Trevor. Hope it does him justice. Second year, doc with classmates, 16 mm b/w film on Bolex.

Nov. 7 - On this day, 91 years ago, the fires of revolution exploded into what later become historys first ever Proletarian State. On this day, November 7th (October 25th on the Julian Calendar), marked the beginning of the Bolshevik Revolution to depose the failed Provisional Government of Alexander Kerensky and the liberal-bourgeoisie. After a vicious struggle with counter-revolutionary White and foreign interventionist forces it was the Bolsheviks who led Russias toiling masses into a sustainable and prosperous future. The celebration of the Bolshevik Revolution was the single-most important holiday in the Soviet Unions pantheon. Its historical importance marked the first time in which the former exploited classes were able to overcome the repeated obstacles of the class enemies and counter-revolutionary armies of the world who wished to bring the Soviet Union to its knees. On this historic day the international proletariat realized that another world is possible; that democracy and liberation come not from the ballot, but from the struggle and inevitable victory over the exploiter classes.

A short clip from the Bruce LaBruce movie The Raspberry Reich. Heterosexuality is the Opiate of the Masses! Madonna is Counter-revolutionary!

PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BT1A1gaF5Lc PART 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpP4BV-TCdA PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKeKxRtMxzs One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCGbifOdgUc PART 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP-ysKLUkpM PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ9kumR4TRA PART 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s3s7OB2BTk PART 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hybNFbjr2Q PART 7: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MS1-gUkGrM One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...To read the rest of this story, please go the following Web site: tmmoreau.com/gu1.html . . . . catholique clandestine olympics chine chinois eglise persecuted underground roman catholic church communist china jesus christus messias gott christ christentum bibel evangelium papst kirche katholisch evangelisch deutsch pierre vogel satan lucifer teufel katholik katholizismus exorzismus exorzist teufelsaustreubung vatican pope benedict xvi rome holy see motu propio beijing reds regime mao zedong pius xii

PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZB_MoXQ4Vs PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BT1A1gaF5Lc PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKeKxRtMxzs One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5IXK6iWtQ PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCGbifOdgUc PART 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP-ysKLUkpM PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ9kumR4TRA PART 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hybNFbjr2Q PART 7: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MS1-gUkGrM One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5IXK6iWtQ PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCGbifOdgUc PART 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP-ysKLUkpM PART 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s3s7OB2BTk PART 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hybNFbjr2Q PART 7: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MS1-gUkGrM One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5IXK6iWtQ PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCGbifOdgUc PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ9kumR4TRA PART 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s3s7OB2BTk PART 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hybNFbjr2Q PART 7: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MS1-gUkGrM One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Z5IXK6iWtQ PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCGbifOdgUc PART 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP-ysKLUkpM PART 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ9kumR4TRA PART 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s3s7OB2BTk PART 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hybNFbjr2Q One Priest in the Underground Catholic Church in China By Theresa Marie Moreau "Chu lai! Chu lai!" Guang-Zhong Gu awoke in the pre-dawn hours, bathed in the sweat of a balmy Shanghai September. Unfamiliar voices barked, "Come out! Come out!" Lights overhead flashed on. The cold steel snap of ammo clicked into machine guns. Fists pounded at the doors lining the long corridors of the Xujiahui Seminary, normally bustling with the quiet sweep of long, black robes. Gu, a 23-year-old third-year seminary student, leapt out of bed. Already dressed in shorts and a shirt, he stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes. No time for socks. He stumbled through the door without looking back. He'd never see the room again. "Sit! Head down! No looking up!" shouted a plainclothes officer from the Xujiahui district police station. With arms waving and fingers pointing, they rounded up more than 150 seminarians and half-a-dozen Jesuit priests, the teachers. Although asleep only moments before, all the men were wide awake as they took their seats. It was the early morning hours of September 8, 1955. Fifty years ago—the date remembered, commemorated, penciled-in, and cursed as the day that the authoritarian, totalitarian Communists waited for the dark hours to arrest hundreds of boys and girls, men and women, laity and clergy. They were criminals. They were Roman Catholics. Officers led Gu, under arrest and in handcuffs, outside and pushed him onto one of the trucks normally used to transport coal. Still night, Gu saw nothing as he squatted down. Though there were other seminarians beside him, they were invisible in the dark. The truck lurched forward, and Gu and the others swayed with the motion. Only the roar of the engine, the grinding of the gears, and the crunch of the tires over the gravel in the road filled Gu's ears. No one spoke. The ride in the truck lasted ten minutes. A foot slammed down the brake pedal. It was the end of the road for him: Xujiahui district police station. For six months, Gu sat and waited in a cell. No court, no judge, no trial. Just waiting. His crime? Now 72, Gu (which he has Westernized to Koo since coming to America) sits straight up in his office chair in the rectory of St. Leo the Great Church in San Jose, California. Eyes forward, he raises his index finger and points to an imaginary criminal in front of him. His voice takes on a tone of authority. He stabs the air with the finger as he recounts each charge—as though he's back in prison again. "The first charge is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized himself as counter-revolutionary! "The second is: Guang-Zhong Gu joined the counter-revolutionary organization, the Legion of Mary, and resisted to resign! "The third is: Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized Bishop Kung as counter-revolutionary! "And Guang-Zhong Gu never recognized the Legion of Mary as counter-revolutionary organization! "My four crimes," Gu says, smiling, shaking his head. "My real crime? I joined the Legion of Mary." The formation of Legion of Mary chapters began in 1948, when the Rev. W. Aedan McGrath, an Irish missionary of the Society of St. Columban with a chapel in Shanghai, established the Catholic youth organization in several cities throughout China. Months later, with the end of the three-year Chinese civil war that followed in the wake of World War II, the Communists defeated the ruling government and took over the country... ...After 24 years at Wayuxiangka penal farm, he rode off and made his way to the Gung He Second Middle School in Qinghai province, where he had earlier met the headmaster in secret, waiting for an opportunity to escape. Finally, after decades of imprisonment, he succeeded. For the next four years, Gu taught English at the school during the day and—still faithful to his vocation—studied theology at night. His textbooks consisted of two books Bishop Fan had given him earlier. In February 1988, Gu visited Fan, who lived in a small room in the second story of his niece's home in a Shanghai suburb. "I want to be ordained," Gu told him. "If it's God's will, everything will be fulfilled," Fan assured him. Days later, on February 22, Fan ordained Guang-Zhong Gu. "I was so happy. I rode my bicycle back home, and I think, I don't belong to this world. Everything was foreseen," Gu says. . ENDNOTE: All Chinese names have been written in a manner to avoid confusion and to remain consistent with the English standard of writing proper names: given name first, family name last. In Chinese, names are traditionally written with family name first, given name last.

The Unit Interventie Mariniers (Unit Intervention Marines, UIM) is an elite Dutch counter-terrorism unit, trained for domestic intervention missions. Formerly known as the Bijzondere Bijstands Eenheid (BBE), it consists of a selection of specially trained marines of the Dutch Marine Corps. The UIM is part of the Maritime Special Operations Group (MSO), which are the special forces units of the Dutch Marine Corps, including the 7th NL Special Boat Squadron, and the Mountain Leader reconnaissance platoon. Although the MSO units also conduct counter-terrorism operations, the UIM is dedicated for counter-terrorism within the Dutch borders. Similar units that roughly resemble the UIM are the German GSG 9, the French GIGN and the counter-revolutionary wing (CRW) of the British Special Air Service (SAS).

http://russart.com/?mid=6 AKA: Beloe Solntse Pustyni. USSR, Mosfilm, 1969. Classics, Action, Comedy. This "Middle-Eastern", or rather a Central-Asian action film, about the Red Army fighting the counter-revolutionary robber bands has become not only a cult movie, but also one of the favorites for several generations of viewers. With Russian cosmonauts, it is a tradition to view this film before going to outer space. The film's success paved the way for a genre of national "Eastern". A demobbed soldier, Fyodor Sukhov, is making his way through the desert to his home village. The band of the brutal Abdulla is raging in that area. Sukhov is charged with escorting the chief's harem, because Abdulla intended to kill his women rather than let them go free. Sukhov's mate, a young soldier Petrukha, dies at the hand of Abdulla. But at the decisive moment, Sukhov gets help from the former customs officer Vereshchagin and a poor peasant, Said. Cast: Anatoly Kuznetsov, Pavel Luspekaev, Spartak Mishulin. Director Vladimir Motyl.

A look at the events and some of the causes of the uprising in France in the Spring of 1968. Unfortuately, there is no mention of one of the driving forces of the uprising both before and during the revolt - the Situationist International. For more information check out the writings of the Situationists themselves. The Beginning of an Era http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/12.era1.htm May 1968 Documents http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/May68docs.htm The Joy of Revolution http://www.bopsecrets.org/PS/joyrev3.htm The Society of the Spectacle http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/debord/ The Revolution of Everyday Life http://library.nothingness.org/articles/SI/en/pub_contents/5 Enrages and Situationists in the Occupation Movement, France, May '68 May 1968 Graffiti Boredom is counterrevolutionary. In a society that has abolished every kind of adventure the only adventure that remains is to abolish the society. Those who make revolutions halfway only dig their own graves. No replastering, the structure is rotten. We will ask nothing. We will demand nothing. We will take, occupy. Down with the state. It's painful to submit to our bosses; it's even more stupid to choose them. Abolish class society. We want neither to rule nor to be ruled. All power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely Politics is in the streets. Barricades close the streets but open the way. People who work get bored when they don't work. People who don't work never get bored. The boss needs you, you don't need the boss. Humanity won't be happy till the last capitalist is hung with the guts of the last bureaucrat. A single nonrevolutionary weekend is infinitely more bloody than a month of total revolution. We refuse to be highrised, diplomaed, licensed, inventoried, registered, indoctrinated, suburbanized, sermonized, beaten, telemanipulated, gassed, booked. Coming soon to this location: charming ruins. Our aim is to agitate and disturb people. We're not selling bread, We're selling yeast. You will end up dying of comfort. Poetry is in the streets. The most beautiful sculpture is a paving stone thrown at a cop's head. Revolution, I love you. I'm a Groucho Marxist. Desiring reality is great! Realizing your desires is even better! Be realistic, demand the impossible. Those who lack imagination cannot imagine what is lacking. Arise, ye wretched of the university. Professors, you are as senile as your culture, your modernism is nothing but the modernization of the police. Neither God nor master. If God existed it would be necessary to abolish him. How can you think freely in the shadow of a chapel? The more we make love, the more we want to make revolution. The more we make revolution, the more we want to make love. Revolutionary women are more beautiful. Make love, not war. Down with consumer society. The more you consume, the less you live. Commodities are the opium of the people. You can't buy happiness. Steal it. The economy is wounded - Lets hope it dies! I don't have time to write!!! Don't get caught up in the spectacle of opposition. Oppose the spectacle. No forbidding allowed. The freedom of others extends mine infinitely.

Прощание Славянки на параде 2008 г ------------------ Farewell of Slavianka (Russian: Прощание славянки - Proshchanie Slavianki) is a Russian patriotic march, written by the composer Vasily Agapkin in honour of the Bulgarian women bidding farewell to their husbands who left for the First Balkan War. The march premiered in Tambov in 1912 and was subsequently released as a single. Slavianka means "Slavic woman". The melody gained popularity in Russia and adjoining countries during the World War I, when the Russian soldiers left their homes accompanied by this music. It was also used as an unofficial anthem of Admiral Kolchak's White Army. It was commonly believed, erroneously, that prior to its use in the award-winning 1957 film The Cranes Are Flying, the song was banned in the Soviet Union due to associations with the tsarist regime and the counter-revolutionary movements. This was not the case. This march was published in an official collection of music for Red Army orchestras[1], and it was recorded in the early 1940s, by a military orchestra under Ivan Petrov (1906-1975). There are lyrics which are usually sung by the Red Army choir, even today. Subsequently, several Russian and Polish composers attempted to write lyrics for this music. During the 1990s, the Yabloko party lobbied for the march to be adopted as the National Anthem of Russia, but without success. Currently, the march is recognized as the anthem of the Tambov Oblast. Ships cruising along the Volga and the Rossiya train which runs from Moscow to Vladivostok make use of the tune before departing. Train #2 (named "Ukraine" at the time) used to depart from Kiev to Moscow to the sound of this tune. Source:WIKIPEDIA http://wikipedia.org

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/

For nearly five decades, the United States has pursued a policy toward Cuba that could be described as incredibly stupid. It could also be called childish and counterproductive -- and, since the demise of the Soviet Union, even insane. Absent the threat of communist expansionism, the refusal by successive American presidents to engage with Cuba has not even a fig leaf's worth of rationale to cover its naked illogic. Other than providing Fidel Castro with a convenient antagonist to help whip up nationalist fervor on the island -- and prolong his rule -- the U.S. trade embargo and other sanctions have accomplished nothing. Now, with Fidel ailing and retired, and his brother Raúl acting large and in charge, the United States has its best opportunity in years to influence the course of events on the island. George W. Bush, as one might have expected, won't do the right thing. It will be up to the next president. Raúl Castro is 76, and since assuming the presidency he has acted as if he knows he doesn't have much time to waste. In short order, he has repealed the prohibition against Cubans buying computers, cellphones and other consumer goods -- items that Fidel feared might facilitate sedition or promote counterrevolutionary comfort and lassitude. It's true that these measures are largely symbolic -- on an average salary of about $17 a month, most Cubans can't dream of buying computers, and, in any event, the Cuban government still strictly controls access to the Internet. Likewise, any Cuban who owns a cellphone can't use it without paying the astronomical rates demanded by the government cellphone monopoly. But at the same time, Raúl has encouraged the first stirrings of debate in the government-controlled media (which are the only media) -- something Fidel never would have allowed. Rumors that the government will soon permit widespread private ownership of automobiles, and perhaps even allow an above-board private market in real estate, seem much less implausible than they would have just six months ago. I've been to Cuba as a journalist 10 times, and friends there -- including some harsh critics of the Castro regime -- say that there is real optimism about the prospects for change. Bush's response has been a cold shoulder. In remarks a few days ago, the president did little but state the obvious fact that Raúl Castro is not, and never will be, a believer in democracy. He dismissed the recent measures as "empty gestures at reform," and then made an empty gesture of his own: He said he would change U.S. policy to allow Cuban Americans to send cellphones to their relatives on the island, something many families already do. Raúl Castro is not going to transform Cuba into a free-market democracy. But he gives every indication of moving down the path that China's leadership has taken, toward making his country a free-market, one-party autocracy. That's not a perfect outcome, as shown by recent events in Tibet. But it's impossible to deny that the Chinese people enjoy far greater personal freedom than they did, say, 20 years ago. Why wouldn't Washington want to encourage Havana to become more like Beijing? That would require actual engagement with the Cuban government, though, and Bush doesn't intend to allow anything of the sort. Barack Obama appeared before the Cuban American National Foundation -- one of the most powerful and most strident of the Miami-based anti-Castro groups -- May 23 and said that if he were president, he would conduct "direct diplomacy" with Cuba's leadership. Earlier last week, John McCain essentially vowed to continue Bush's hard-line course. Obama's into-the-lion's-den performance may win him some points for bravery, but it may not get him a lot of votes in South Florida. He has the right idea, however. The United States can attempt to influence any changes that eventually take place in Cuba, or it can harrumph from the sidelines. Several of Cuba's leading dissidents have urged the White House to end the decades-old trade embargo and the draconian restrictions on travel to the island. Bush pays no attention to those on the front lines of this struggle. Stubbornly sticking with a policy that has achieved nothing in nearly 50 years is a pretty good definition of insanity. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/05/30/AR2008053002119.html

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/

Vojislav Šešelj was born in Sarajevo (then SFR Yugoslavia) and grew up in the Herzegovinian village of Popovo Polje, near the city of Trebinje. He graduated in law at the University of Sarajevo, and soon obtained a doctorate in 1979. He taught political science there until 1984. That year the Communist authorities of Yugoslavia convicted him of "counter-revolutionary activities" and sentenced him to eight years in prison, although the Supreme Court commuted the sentence and he was released in 1986. In 1989 Šešelj went to the United States where Momčilo Đujić, a Chetnik leader from World War II, granted him the title voivoda (Grand Duke) of the Chetniks. Together with Vuk Drašković and Mirko Jović, Šešelj founded the anti-communist Serbian National Renewal (SNO) party in 1989. Šešelj later split off his faction into the Serbian Radical Party. During the early 1990s, Šešelj founded a number of paramilitary units, most notably the White Eagles, which committed some of the worst crimes against civilians and POWs during the Yugoslav Wars (including Vukovar and Voćin massacres). His relations with President Slobodan Milošević's Socialist Party was amicable during the first years of the Yugoslav Wars until September 1993, when he came into conflict with Milošević over Milošević's withdrawal of support for Republika Srpska in the Bosnian War. Šešelj also landed in jail in 1994 and 1995 for his opposition to Milošević. In 1998 as violence in the Serbian province of Kosovo increased, Šešelj then joined Milošević's national unity government. Šešelj objected to foreign media and human rights organizations acting in Yugoslavia, saying "If we cannot grab all their (NATO) planes, we can grab those within our reach, like various Helsinki committees, and Quisling groups" and "To those who we prove have participated in the service of foreign propaganda and those are the Voice of America, Deutsche Welle, Radio Free Europe, Radio France International, and the BBC radio service etc. If we find them in the moment of aggression they shouldn't expect anything good.".[2] He became vice-president of the Serbian government between 1998 and 2000. During the Kosovo War and the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia, he and his political party were willing to support Milošević, and after three months of bombardment they were the only party to vote against surrender to NATO forces. In late February 2003 Šešelj surrendered to the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) on the indictment of "eight counts of crimes against humanity and six counts of violations of the laws or customs of war for his alleged participation in a joint criminal enterprise".[3] While in custody, he wrote a book titled „Kriminalac i ratni zločinac Havijer Solana" ("Punk and War Criminal Javier Solana"), a criticism of the NATO Secretary General (and the current High Representative for the Common Foreign and Security Policy and the Secretary-General of both the Council of the European Union and the Western European Union) who led the 1999 war in Kosovo.[4] On December 2, 2006 about 30,000 people marched in the Serbian capital, Belgrade, in support of Šešelj during his 28-day hunger strike in The Hague - after the ICTY denied him the right to choose his own defence counsel. Speaking at the rally, Radical Party secretary Aleksander Vučić said "He's not fighting just for his life. But he's fighting for all of us who are gathered here. Vojislav Šešelj is fighting for Serbia!"[5][6] Šešelj ended the hunger strike on 8 December after being allowed to present his own defence.[7] Although in custody in The Hague, Šešelj has announced he will top his party's list of contenders for the January 2007 general election.[8] Vojislav Seselj Srbija Serbia Kosovo Srpska Radikalna Stranka Radikali Serbian SRS Chetniks Cetnici Canak Serbs Srbi Haag hag karlobag ogulin karlovac virovitica croatia hrvatska bosna bosnia ratko mladic humor comedy

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/

The Bolt: Suite from the Ballet, Op. 27a Ballet in three acts and seven scenes with libretto by Vladimir Smirnov 1. Overture (Introduction) 2. The Bureaucrat (Polka) 3. The Drayman's Dance (Variations) 4. Kozelkov's Dance with Friends (Tango) 5. Intermezzo 6. The Dance of the Colonial Slave-Girl 7. The Conciliator 8. General Dance of Enthusiasm and Apotheosis (Finale) Composer: Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) Conductor: Dmitry Yablonsky Performer: Russian State Symphony Orchestra World Premiere: April 8, 1931 at the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet, Leningrad Shostakovichs second ballet is a caustic and colourful tale of skulduggery and counter-revolutionary wickedness in a Soviet factory. The drunken and lazy Lyonka hates his work. Encouraged by a dangerous and subversive anti-Soviet schemer and also by the appalling example of the (equally drunken) local priest and his lazy and ignorant congregation, Lyonka is drawn into a plot to sabotage his factory by dropping a large bolt into a piece of machinery. Only the noble intervention of a group of brave Young Communists succeeds in saving the workplace and protecting the revolutionary future from the reactionary forces of darkness and conservatism. The waspish and delightfully colourful score bowls along like a childrens cartoon-film, every number full of drama and parody and fine take-offs of serious and popular music of every kind. Among the highlights are the opening scene when the workers gather in the morning for their physical fitness class before hitting the conveyor belts, the appearance of pompous and opinionated officials and bureaucrats, a ridiculous church-going episode, and the exciting scene when the sabotage-conspiracy nearly succeeds and is only foiled at the last moment. There are also plenty of numbers which mimic the whirling and hammering sounds of modern factory machinery. The original choreography was by the outstanding Fyodor Lopukhov, later famous for his restagings of the ballet-classics, but at this period best known for his avant-garde work. In The Bolt he made much play with dancers imitating the workings of machinery. Tatyana Brunis gaudy designs of a factory interior added to this effect. The Bolt was not a success at its first performance and was immediately taken off. Shostakovich immediately began recycling the work in other pieces and also compiled a lively and entertaining concert-suite. Recent reconsideration and a revival, however, suggest that the ballet is very amusing and effective when staged complete. http://www.boosey.com/cr/music/Dmitri-Shostakovich-The-Bolt/15666/