BASE Vol. 2.2

BASEVOLUME2.2

Cover artwork by Stuart Hayden

Building Alliances for Social Engagement

Copyright Š 2010 Building Alliances for Social Engagement All rights revert back to the author upon publication.

Acknowledgements Jovanna Avila

Jessica Barber Tiffanie Battram Jamie Claeys Sean Daly ASSG Rep Council Writers /Artists /Photographers

Letter

P

from the editor

atriotism is defined as love and devotion to one’s country. It seems to me that the term has become synonymous with inaction, with blind trust in the government and blind devotion to the system. “Dissent is the highest form of patriotism,” says Howard Zinn. I agree wholeheartedly. I have become disillusioned with the system.

Small groups of individuals have always worked underground, and sometimes in the mainstream, to change the way our country and its institutions are run. Maybe it’s time we all dissent.

You can start by thinking about where you shop, what you buy, and what you consume, from food to entertainment and everything in between. In my opinion, the fastest way to bring about change in the U.S. is by changing corporations, which have not been held sufficiently accountable. No longer should they buy out local businesses, exploit workers, and influence policy, nor be permitted to operate in a manner detrimental to the environment. Websites like greenamericatoday.org can help you make responsible choices.

BASE has been my first step towards dissent, my first attempt at small scale change, beginning here at CU. This is the last edition of BASE I will have the pleasure of producing for you. It has been an inspiring experience to work with the writers and visual artists who submitted and the editors and designers who have helped put BASE together for the last three semesters. I’m thrilled to hand over the journal to the new managing editor, Anne Robertson, and her very capable, impassioned staff. If you want to get involved and support the journal as it continues to grow, email us at submissions@ activistjournal.com.

Sincerely, Ashley McPhee Editor-in-Chief

Mission To create a free journal run by student volunteers, acting as a forum for those with concerns relating to cultural diversity, gender/sexuality, human rights, and environmental issues, among other areas of interest, in order to explore and discuss these issues, while educating ourselves and a broader community-the creation of which we endeavor to achieve. We wish to facilitate communication between groups of people who could one day be partners in a common effort. As a result we hope to promote the involvement of new voices and perspectives of people with passions that we may help foster.

Staff

ashley mcphee - editor-in-chief paul bauder mickey ellenwood kelly kaoudis andrew maples anne robertson evan sandsmark

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Contents

“the environmental politics of animal agriculture” by jess steinitz “healthcare is a human right” by aaron smith

poetry and prose

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“earthquake” by megan dibello

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“no more jeopardy” by toben hill

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“the current state of occupation” by nancy stohlman

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35

37 51

“no girls allowed” by rebecca diaz “for the refugees in kakuma” by sean mcneely “we the people” by rebecca diaz “there is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity” by andrew maples

art “what lies within” by jess steinitz “buffalo” by kevin moran “contraception” by melanie gillman “badonk” by jamie moore “undeserved illness” by jaime moore “untitled” by matt gettleman “jesus saves” by nathan briley and tricia martin “insolvency two: an excerpt” by stuart hayden “diverse democracy” by cari smith “sometimes a hug is all it takes” by kelly kaoudis “sea lions” by kelly kaoudis “alternative ways to use an ak-47” by aaron young

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24 31

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the environmental politics of animal agriculture: jess steinitz

why you should have a beef with eating meat

I

n this burgeoning “green” American zeitgeist, hybrids are in and Hummers are out. Organic is in, pesticides are out. Compact fluorescent bulbs are in, incandescent bulbs are out and not nearly as cool looking.

Green is the new black. I read somewhere that green is also the new pink. In fact, the only color left in the acceptable spectrum may be green, which is fine with me, because I look good in green. But what does it all mean?

It means that, like so many corporations of our time, we are now competing with our friends, our families, and our neighbors over who can green (or sometimes, greenwash) themselves the best. However dreary this may seem, this competitive nature of ours may ultimately be what saves us.

But this competitive nature is also what likely led us out onto this scary cliff in the first place. Long ago, in a land very, very close, one of the first ways we competed with each other was by seeing who could own the most cattle.

Historians believe that cattle were likely one of the earliest forms of currency and were used as money in parts of Africa as recently as the middle of the 20th century.

Although cattle are not native to North America, one could argue that our society was built on beef. Along with European colonists came longhorns, and cattle drives became part of the lore of the Old West. Without cattle, we wouldn’t have had cowboys and probably wouldn’t have had John Wayne either. For some Americans, giving up any tradition linked to John Wayne can be very difficult.

Since 1910, the first year that beef consumption statistics were gathered, Americans have been eating an average of 60 pounds of beef or more per person annually. In 2001, Americans were eating 70 pounds of beef annually per person and 80 pounds of chicken per year. Don’t just write those numbers off—think about them for a moment. That’s like eating two 11-year-old children every year—one made purely of beef and the other made purely of chicken.

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Many people have tried to figure out why we eat so much meat. Some writers have pointed out that people view meat as a reward, particularly more expensive meats, such as steak and lamb. The desire to be an “average American” also seems to be strong, and researchers on this subject report that some people claim to eat meat because they are “average Americans.” Others have alleged that people eat meat in an attempt to prove their masculinity, or that eating meat is a type of domination over our natural world that has its roots in religion, specifically Christianity. Eating meat, writers have said, helps humans maintain our “long-held position as unlimited lord of the universe.”

What this means, I may never know.

Others argue that eating meat is also a class issue. Because meat was so expensive for average people at the start of the Industrial Revolution, it became a powerful status symbol. “The novels of both Charles Dickens and Gustave Flaubert, for instance, dwell with unconcealed delight on the privilege of easy access to every conceivable kind of meat, providing a sensory feast from which the poor were almost entirely excluded,” writes author Peter Singer.

Some assert that the attachment of working-class people to eating meat exists because, traditionally, the steak dinner was reserved for the master or regarded as an upper-class person’s mark of distinction. So, a claim to class privilege can be thought to require a claim to meat.

Conversely, identifying oneself as a vegetarian or vegan has also become a claim to class privilege, a paradox that I will gladly exploit if it will help undo all the damage our taste for meat has caused. People’s diets are a significant part of their culture and personal identity, and this is finally going to play to our advantage after all these years. Having the luxury of turning away nourishment that is so prevalent says something about one’s level of privilege and comfort and not least of all about one’s level of “green.” How are vegetarianism and one’s level of green related? I’m so glad you asked.

Hogging All Our Space Vast amounts of land are needed for the grazing and housing of animals that will be eventually slaughtered for food. But much land is also needed to grow food for these animals. Shockingly, 90% of all land put to agricultural use in the United States is used for either the production or feeding of livestock.

This amounts to over half of the total land area of the contiguous U.S. being used for the production of meat and dairy products.

Let’s say that the average human weighs between 150 and 200 pounds,

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the environmental politics of animal agriculture

and let’s also say that the average cow weighs 1100 pounds. Currently, we are attempting to feed 112 million cattle (at 1100 pounds each), 85 million hogs (weighing 200–300 pounds each), nine million sheep (weighing 100–150 pounds each), and 3.3 billion chickens (weighing whatever chickens weigh).

This means that if everyone in the U.S. abandoned his or her omnivorous diet, our level of crop production would be reduced by at least a factor of four. In fact, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian just for one day, our country would save 1.5 billion pounds of crops otherwise fed to livestock, enough to feed the state of New Mexico for more than a year.

Additionally, the majority of deforestation in our country is not caused by urban sprawl, but at the charge of the meat industry, which surpasses urban sprawl by a landslide. (A landslide likely caused by meat industry-related erosion.) As more land is used for the growing and feeding of future meat, more forests are cleared away. This process of deforestation causes the topsoil in these areas to erode, ultimately leading to desertification, a word that, unfortunately, means what it sounds like it means. Again, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian just for one day, our country would prevent 3 million tons of soil erosion and $70 million in resulting economic damages.

In the U.S. today, for every acre of forest trampled by urban sprawl (including shopping malls, parking lots, etc.), seven acres are lost and converted into feedlots to quench our taste for meat. This devastating loss of forests is not only occurring in our country; tremendous areas of countries and even subcontinents have been cut up and cut down as Third World countries beef up their meat production to accommodate the tastes of the First World. For example, in only 20 years, 80% of Costa Rica’s tropical rainforest was cleared for cattle production. To give an example that is perhaps more digestible (or perhaps not), for every hamburger that is imported from Central America, six square yards of jungle are cleared away. Did that leave a bad taste in your mouth? I’ll wait while you take a drink. Speaking of water…

Up a Creek without a Paddle Other results of our meat-filled diets are the overuse and pollution of our limited freshwater supply. People are often flooded with suggestions like shutting off the faucet while brushing their teeth and taking shorter showers.

And although these are things we should absolutely do, the water that is saved from these actions comes nowhere near what it would be if we adopted a vegetarian diet, or even a diet of less meat. Meat production represents the

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single largest use of water in the U.S., and many areas of the world, including areas within our United States, regularly experience freshwater shortages.

Traditional supplies of water are running dry—either temporarily in times of low rainfall, or permanently from both overtaxing aquifers and from global warming-induced drought. We need to do what we can to reduce our freshwater consumption, and not eating meat is the perfect way to do it.

Let’s compare the following scenarios. First, think of how much water would be needed to raise plants to feed the animals that, in turn, feed us. Add to this the water required to raise the animals themselves. Next, think of how much water would be needed to simply feed and water vegetarians directly. It should be obvious from the number of steps in the former situation that more water is required. How about this: Depending on the type of plant, a pound of beef requires 10–1,000 times as much water compared to a pound of vegetables. Again, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian just for one day, our country would save 100 billion gallons of water, enough to supply all the homes in New England for almost four months.

While it seems a largely unknown fact that the meat industry uses more of our water in the U.S. than any other industrial consumer, perhaps it’s even less known that meat production surpasses all other causes of water pollution nationwide and worldwide combined. At the risk of sounding repetitive, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian for just one day, we would prevent the production of 4.5 million tons of animal excrement, which ends up in our water supply. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, hog, chicken, and cattle waste has polluted 35,000 miles of rivers and contaminated groundwater in 17 states across the U.S. Especially the Great Lakes…I’d stay out of those.

Global Warning Now, for the one we’ve all been waiting for: eating meat contributes to global climate change.

Deforestation contributes significantly to global warming, and as we now know, the meat industry causes much of the deforestation occurring across the world. Deforestation causes 1–3 billion metric tons of carbon to be released into the atmosphere every year. These big numbers still probably don’t mean much, because when numbers get big, we get confused. Let me just say that the amount of carbon that is released is not insignificant: somewhere between 14 and 33 percent of all excess carbon in the atmosphere is due to tree removal.

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the environmental politics of animal agriculture

The meat production industry itself also contributes much of the emissions that are causing global climate change. This is because producing one calorie of protein from meat burns more than 10 times the fossil fuel and spews more than 10 times as much heat-trapping carbon dioxide as does one calorie of protein from plants. Because of this, a vegetarian produces 1.5 fewer tons of carbon dioxide per year than does a meat eater. In terms of carbon dioxide emissions, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian for just one day, we would prevent 1.2 million tons of CO2 emissions, which is equal to France’s total output. Even easier, if every person in the U.S. skipped just one meal of chicken per week and substituted vegetarian foods instead, the CO2 savings would be the same as taking more than half a million cars off of our roads.

But in terms of the meat industry’s contribution to global climate change, the most serious problem is not carbon dioxide, but instead the production of methane and nitrous oxide. These two greenhouse gases have 23 and 296 times the warming power of carbon dioxide, respectively. Carbon dioxide is responsible for about half of human-related greenhouse gas warming, and methane and nitrous oxide are responsible for an additional third of the remainder.

Livestock themselves produce and emit methane into the atmosphere as a result of their digestive processes. (Contrary to silly myth, 95% of methane is emitted by cattle through belching, not flatulence.) Overall, meat production accounts for 9% of total carbon dioxide emissions, 37% of methane, 65% of nitrous oxide, and 64% of ammonia, which contributes significantly to acid rain. (Remember acid rain? It was big in the 80s. Sort of like Purple Rain but worse.) This means that 18% of global climate change emissions come from livestock, an amount that is more than the emissions generated by all of the world’s transportation combined. Once again, if everyone in the U.S. went vegetarian just for one day, our country would save 70 million gallons of gas.

We are only just waking up to the fact that climate change is going to have a serious impact on all our lives, and most of us are still trying to hit the snooze button. We still don’t factor these things into our purchasing decisions.

In fact, we don’t really even know how much energy, water, or feed is needed to put meat on our plate. The “embedded energy” and “embedded water” are still just abstractions. But if we were to consider how much natural capital is used, factoring in the health effects from the environmental problems caused by the meat industry—not even the health effects of eating meat itself, which are numerous and gross—the cost would already be incredibly high.

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The “100-mile diet” is really starting to gather converts, as people choose to buy their food from local sources (within 100 miles of home). This reduces the “miles to market” and virtually eliminates the environmental damage created by the extensive transportation of this meat. While this may seem like a good alternative to a vegetarian diet, in reality, it is not. The transportation of food only accounts for 11% of its greenhouse gas emissions. The production of the meat itself is a much greater factor. In fact, switching from beef to veggies one day a week would reduce your ecological footprint more than if you bought all of your food locally.

Make Your Green Friends Green with Envy If you’re already spending as much money as you can buying local and organic, if you’re already biking as much as your quads can handle, and if you’re already reducing, reusing, and recycling like that slogan tells you to, your next step should be eating less meat. In fact, even if you’re not doing any of these things, your next step should be eating less meat. Because compared to your friend who shops at the farmer’s market or your coworker who bikes to work or your family member who composts, if you become a vegetarian—or, dare I say, a vegan—you will have the ultimate trump card. You will automatically be greener (not to mention healthier) than they are. Take that, Joneses.

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the environmental politics of animal agriculture

what lies within jess steinitz

buffalo kevin moran

earthquake megan dibello

I. not to be forgotten

Awareness:Prevention Tangshan (eastern China) 1976 240,000 dead

posed challenge risk factors communist Party attempted cover up of catastrophe

Never

are disasters created so that a model of excellent recovery can be forged anew

so that the government looks like hero or heroine?

Again.

II. precautionary structures early warning surveillance for earthquakes response for epidemic-prone diseases surveillance system involvement of healthcare providers standardized case definitions immediate reporting of epidemic readily-available epidemic investigation kits

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immediate response with implementation of control measures laboratory support epidemic preparedness and stockpiling for epidemic-prone diseases formation of a multisectoral outbreak rapid response team rehydration supplies immunization materials provision of safe food, water, sanitation and hygiene facilities continuation (or resumption) of treatment

Earthquake

30.986°N, 103.364°E

can you pose for a picture you didn’t know would blow up the camera?

picture a wedding day

close your eyes

possible or impossible to see china

with buildings

tripping over an aisle of flowers

one on top of another

rubbled girls,

wearing long lace on stretchers or body bags

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earthquake

fertility

omen flowers already hit the ground

dresses or veils don’t matter

this is a non-shadow

a foreshadow

these are shadows of the dead

(suburban family urban to destruction)

eyesight of (collision) begins

wedd

ing

re

technology can’t humanize saying reverence to parents and ancestors

when parents have just become ancestors

wealth

financial

social obligations both families

a gift giving etiquette

bride’s incorporation into her husband

‘s family

bow

to rememories/unmemories=unrememories

betrothal question(ed)–

one plans for disaster on a wedding day

no

the bride and groom wait to be received in matrimony

might and are not omniscient a digestion of tea dragon or phoenix tea must wait

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amongstrubble public inconveniences

soot ash fever wrinkle fist

survival

grabbing hold of attempts of

without communication under weighted

beams of static tarred airwaves of electricity censorship to a static pause

the guests haven’t made it when the road becomes a hospital

and the doctors are inside the cars

(collision)

there are no and cannot be any pick-up sticks in this game

one may not use one stick to pick up another (collision)

both sticks must work together

this is tradition

(collision) a firm grasp on

right hand–

rub wooden sticks together– (collision) in base of thumb to tip of ring finger– tip of thumb and index finger– with practice,

hold them close to the top

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earthquake

two sticks in food–death (collision) be prepared for the courses of this dinner the layers of the earth already sit out of place a courteous bow

to the wedding of natural disaster

today’s loss is also tomorrow’s wage on psychological effects

this is family

a state imbalanced

and the flower–and the veil– wait to play

how can children play in rubble?

where is the ground that one can’t feel

but knows must be there? how can armies Sichuan reconstruct

masks

(earths exhibition of temper)?

soldiers wear aversions to happiness in face damage is not a scrape or scar

layers of earthquake courses to magnitude of devastated provinces 7.9/8.0

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damage is stillness my property my human

no damage in prayer

damage is death (dangerous subject to harmony)

duty behold

how can civilians be civilized by armed forces?

when is responsibility not a duty? there is no discharge from duty for survivors there is only the lingering of damage recruiting soldiers and monks before food and water armed forces–sing–

overcome”

“we cannot march if we cannot

men men men about seventeen about seventeen men i mean mean age of seventeen i mean number of soldiers face masks camo (no flag) shave heads squatting he and she and she and he studied table manners for a wedding for their wedding for a wedding never attended after planning a wedding who plans for disaster?

about insulting ghosts

around with food

finish all food

every last grain?

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earthquake

who cares who dig who don’t who don’t eat

what about the guests that will never attend?

what about the survival rate of the bride and groom?

what if the only guests at the wedding are the bride and the groom? guests were to sit by rank

the right side superior the left side inferior somehow this earthquake seems unnatural the unemotional of numb

too many gaps where building now bodies lay

to fill in trenched poetics

beauty by blood catastrophe smeared on cheekbones there are no wedding photos of attentive listening there are only wedding photos of the bride and groom wavering in the night begging for conjoining tectonic plates please china please china please

and the bride and the groom are the only guests they are now surviving on general information

the facts:

7.9/8.0

seismologists ask

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what time zone is disaster?

69,185 people killed

374,171 injured

18,467 missing kissing death as salutation there will be no thank you notes written but that

estimated

5.36 million collapses

21 million damaged buildings

45.5 million people affected

86 billion economic losses

cracked fracture in the economic spine of a state there are no guests to look un/on emotion(al)

complete(ly) fact (or)s:

May 12, 2008– epicenter

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earthquake

earthquakes tectonic stresses result convergences (collision)

crustal material slow move high Tibetan Plateau

west against strong

velocity of land mass ecosystem degradation and agricultural disturbance

(collision) crusted underlays underline physics

Sichuan Basin rupture equates rapture in reserves

slippage–

southeastern China’s

aftershock after magnitude equated by

disaster?

(collision)

and where do prayers equate pleas in the center of

boundaries between plates–this is not a banquet table no do not remaketable repeat repeat no do not remaketable

there are no guests to fill these seats

the seats have been taken by

(collision)

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(collision) is movement (collision) is seismic (collision) is breaching (collision) is overflowing what about the

people?

what about the

streets?

what about the Chinese?

what about the marriage? nature this everything human and human in everything nature

created on

catastrophic “thank yous�

there is no vocabulary

but

silence

The Aftermath

I. access to safe water and sanitation facilities

populations displaced cholera typhoid fever

high risk hygiene shigellosis hepatitis A and E

outbreaks foodborne diseases sewage anthrax

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earthquake

diarrhoea

leptospirosis malnutrition II. population displacement with overcrowding

affected area relief centers measles pneumonia

immediate risk respiratory transmission

overcrowding meningitis

poor ventilation diphtheria pertussis

TB HIV III. environmental risks from damaged industries

chemical radiological ammonia risk of exposure hydrochloric acid sulphuric acid contamination of food vaccine stocks cold chain V. increased exposure to disease vectors

destruction of housing Japanese encephalitis

trauma wounds/injury tetanus gangrene V. poor access to health services degradation

health infrastructure means of communication

emergency medical surgical services

crisis

VI. deaths result from a natural disaster infection control

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precautions

human corpses VII. exposure to dead bodies

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earthquake

contraception melanie gillman

badonk jaime moore

no more jeopardy toben hill

O

ld Mr. Jenson sat in his rocking chair on the porch and watched the world end. It was not as exciting as the science fiction films of his youth had led him to expect.

The bombers flew overhead, low, from the north. They were moving slowly; though they unleashed a noticeable roar as they passed over his house, the windows did not rattle and the sound barrier remained unbroken.

It was like the air show he’d seen at the state fair five years ago, but quicker and quieter and not repeated.

Nothing else happened for a while, so he went inside to brew coffee and watch television. On the TV, men in suits were saying how to get to shelters, what to wear. The men were trying to guess how long they had until the second wave arrived, until more cities blew.

Mr. Jenson flipped through the channels, searching for Jeopardy, but it wasn’t on. There were just the same reports, channel after channel, so he turned the television off and picked up the newspaper. As the coffee slowly bubbled, he read the funny page. Garfield was stealing lasagna. Dagwood was eating a sandwich.

Mr. Jenson’s stomach rumbled, so he fished some fried chicken out of the refrigerator. He considered heating it up, but by then the coffee was done, and, given a choice, Mr. Jenson would take cold chicken over cold coffee any day.

He picked up the paper and a pencil and returned to the porch.

Ten minutes later, when the chicken was nothing but a greasy pile of bones and the remaining coffee was a thin, obscuring film on the bottom of the mug, Mr. Jenson was puzzling over the crossword. He was looking for a four letter word for the absence of something, a word that ended with a ‘k’. Another round of bombers roared by above. The word was right there, just beneath his consciousness. He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand, trying to dislodge the thought.

Far off to the south, in the direction of the city, there was a blinding flash.

Mr. Jenson dropped his pencil and blinked his eyes. All he could see was

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splotchy murkiness, like he’d looked right into the sun. Fifteen seconds later, a phenomenal boom sounded, rattling leaves off trees, shaking windows, kicking up dust.

As Mr. Jenson’s vision cleared, he saw that on the horizon, where the flash had been, there was a substantial mass of dust accumulating. It was quite an upsetting development.

He knelt, retrieved his pencil, and went back inside. He dropped the crossword on the counter, to finish later, and turned to the television, determined to figure out what was going on.

There were no longer news programs on television. Now, there was only static whiteout, combined with a horrible hiss. He methodically searched through the channels, trying to find a working one, but they were all the same.

No news.

No Jeopardy.

Mr. Jenson got up, walked around his small farmhouse. He was bored. There were no animals on the farm to keep him company. He lived here on his pension, comfortably enough, and spent most of his time watching television and going out for drinks with his friend Maxwell from up the road. Mr. Jenson decided to give Maxwell a call and walked to his old telephone, an old-fashioned land

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no more jeopardy

line. He picked it up, but the phone just beeped at him, telling him it was off the hook somewhere, or otherwise disconnected.

With nothing better to do, Mr. Jenson rummaged in his refrigerator, finding a can of Coca-Cola and some potato salad. He sat down on the couch to enjoy his snack, staring at the silent TV screen.

After he was done eating, Mr. Jenson finished off the crossword puzzle. The word he’d been searching for turned out to be “lack”. He was proud that he’d figured it out. He glanced outside and saw that it was snowing, only the snow was grey and sooty. It must have been blown in from the city, finally manmade weather. Mr. Jenson knew that the city had been bombed, of course.

He knew that bombings were commonplace. He’d seen a lot of them on television. He wanted to talk with Maxwell about it, so they could compare notes. It would be quite a story to tell at the pub. He thought back to the bombers. They’d really been something, rushing overhead, firing machine guns.

His mind added some details from some old World War II movies he’d seen, to spice up the memory. He wished the television was working.

Then he could have watched real coverage of the event.

That night, a half hour before Mr. Jenson usually went to bed, the power went out. He went to his refrigerator and retrieved two more cans of Coca-Cola, which he gulped down dutifully. There was no point letting them get warm overnight.

When the power came back on, he would drive to the city and buy another case or two, but that was a project for tomorrow.

Before dawn the next day, Mr. Jenson awoke, walked downstairs, and flipped the switch on the television. Nothing happened. The power was still out. He frowned. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He walked outside, and stood on his porch, the edge of his world, in his old purple bathrobe, and stared.

The world had changed.

Everything in view was covered in ash and debris. Everything—the trees, the truck, the lawn, the mailbox, his entire house—was buried, forming indistinguishable mounds. The power line had fallen. No traffic on the highway.

Coming up in the east, the sun cast an unearthly red glow over the scene as the most beautiful and frightening sunrise Mr. Jenson had ever witnessed shone over the land.

Suddenly he realized that the world was not going to go back to normal, at least not soon. This was not a

car bomb in Baghdad or a fire in California. This was right on his front doorstep.

Finally, the true implications hit him, and Mr. Jenson gasped as he realized that he might very well have enjoyed his last Coca-Cola, one sweet taste to remember himself by.

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the current state of occupation

nancy stohlman

I abandoned my innocence in a hotel room in East Jerusalem, with thin walls and narrow beds that creaked hushed confessions: War and Politics and Passion and Urgency and Love melting in a crucible where there was no injustice for those with dark skin, and there was always one more day I didn’t have with you.

During the invasion, I took a last look at my old life from behind bullet-shattered windows.

In Aida Refugee Camp, Palestinian faces creased with worry, we waited for the drones.

“From childhood, everyone knows what follows:” ringing phones, blood types listed on yellow legal paper, an oatmeal sky, a bomb-littered street, a sniper tower, phone numbers permanently inked up and down my arms.

When the tanks finally rolled

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down the streets, it was almost a relief.

In Bethlehem, you came to me like a wise man to a star, bearing something more than the bread I sought amidst the rubble.

Tank tracks driven through my resolve to resist I allowed myself to be Occupied.

In a land of injustice you became the just.

In a land of destruction I became the creator.

We sang celebrations over the explosions: Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

When the smoke cleared from the silhouettes of ancient church steeples, I saw only a changed world, never mind the return plane ticket.

We sampled hotel rooms in Bethlehem, Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, escaping into the old, walled city where we could drink Arabic coffee and pretend to be tourists.

On our last evening, we climbed the Mount of the Olives where Jesus ate his last supper

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and silently watched the sun set over the Middle East.

Take of this body and remember me.

Now that moment is a photograph of a man and a woman with strange smiles.

Over static phone lines stretched thin, my mind is still kissing you goodbye from the taxi on Ben Yehuda.

And, like a stray bullet arching through a holy night, I am burning up in my own fire.

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the current state of occupation

undeserved illness jaime moore

untitled

matt gettleman

“This picture was captured at the Ganden Monastery while traveling Tibet by motorcycle with my father. I poked my head over the edge of a rooftop to see a monk playing guns with a younger monk. The photo speaks to how violence permeates and serves to subvert the practice of stereotyping.�

-matt gettleman

no girls allowed (my 13th birthday) rebecca diaz

happy birthday hunting season Long strides through the tall pines. Marching in unison. Electrified by hunt, they waver in neon orange. Clicks of lever action rifles echo in the woods.

White tails floating quickly this way and that –the ivory-crowned prince crouches in the undergrowth. Thirteen points poke above the branches.

Whitetail tremble. Marksmen shiver, anticipate, shoot. Bag! Pulling its body onto the truck-bed, their discovery: the prince has a vagina. We got ourselves a queer (l a u g h t e r).

Mistaken by Doe who ran like Buck, who had antlers like Buck, who dodged bullets like buck. Then, doe wouldn’t die so they broke doe’s neck, hung her up in the barn; cut a circle round her anus, split her pelvis in two. With a slowguided hand, they sliced into her body. Forcing out her innards and peeling apart her layers –bouncing them onto the cement floor.

Peaking through a hole in the barn, I vomited on my new shoes.

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jesus saves

nathan briley and tricia martin

for the refugees in kakuma sean mcneely

These are lyrics born from lack of water and incendiary fire starters.

For all the children—and all the martyrs, from Kakuma to imagination slaughtered.

Make the times goes, Make the times goes, Dance the dance to see if God knows.

This is decades lost and time still losing.

It’s mental anguish, lives still bruising.

For each one “saved”—there are still ten others without a home or sisters or brothers.

Make the times goes, Make the times goes, Sing the song to see if God knows.

This is parents lost and babies buried, dark escapes from death-black fairies.

For each home lost—a family shattered, and a check is sent to mend the tatters.

Make the times goes, Make the times goes, Tell the story to see if God knows.

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This is three full jobs and money sent, the end to the refugee Parliament.

For each new day and each new staple— a lacquered life awaits the “lucky” people.

Make the times goes, Make the times goes, With Christmas trees to see if God knows.

This is walking from one place far to another, from shadows to hide in to streetlights for cover.

For what was lost—and can’t be found, there still remains the sacred, tribal sound.

It makes the times goes, Makes the times goes, While you wait to see if God knows.

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FOR THE REFUGEES IN KAKUMA

we the people rebecca diaz

Our lives end, the day we become silent about the things that matter. MLK People, your voices hold force blast Mother of all Bombs your heart motivations are lightweight assault rifles your bellies are trigger-locked hands on weapon your thoughts protrude over the Patriot Act your bodies are frozen in Syrian raids your mouths are tireless in wheels of homegrown terror your teeth bite mountains into rage on streets of Denver whose lips curve senator’s back to upright your tongues taste dirt cakes of Haiti we the people, whose rib bones stand over gates of the starving whose torsos held stools for lunch counters of Greensboro with spines climbing through The things they carried whose genders twisted logic into voting rights whose pigments held seeds in the fields of short handled-hoe our hands feel plummet of dollar with droppers of tears attached to dirt to ground to soil / ears into the cracks of democracy’s sound we, the people whose shoulders carry like Atlas in the corner crying rests for heads weeping / the empire is falling with muscled finger-tops, we tap whirlwinds into food riots your eyes are green beret electrocuted in showers of pentagon’s short-circuiting the people whose eyelids are slowing truckers blocking roads / inching to dispute over tanks-full

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whose noses pave pathways along aroma of peak-oil with our furrowed brows as wrenches in gears of the turning your knuckle-force wraps tightly round dock-workers refuse to labor round government spending / round blue collar’s unrest with your minds exploding Titans on USian streets your stomachs absorb obstruction of two-party system your retinas digest gay marriage’s discontent your excrement destructs Iranian pipeline horrors your feet hold ankles walking into Tibet your lungs release kites above Palestine with arms cradling propulsion in protest-signs your words hot in the fires of resistance you play on the fields of a red-white-blue-existence segregation swallowed my father’s ability to sound out words I write here, with his hands, wielding a wand of language don’t tell me this doesn’t make a difference don’t tell me we have to wait for change we are the subjects of transformation We the people can work an uprising into the muscles We the people reject the fear-mongering of a nation We the people resist state-induced oppression We the people refuse to be force-fed the story of a savior We the people right here We the people of the world We will shout into white house ears Until this ground and the flag return to our hands We the people We the people We the people We the people

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WE THE PEOPLE

nielsen drops out stuart hayden

apprehending twelve zeros behind thirteen bars stuart hayden

“A drift through the city, a dérive, explores the democratic landscape as its public contrivance fades from national attention. On sensation every public bulletin yields opportunity, each a detour for the next; ‘a territorial niche for the present to commerce with the past.’ Yet when nothing but property grows from life and liberty, so too in this crisis, these crises, we shrink from the service of country; and all else is lost. These branchless trees ‘must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.’

When once made, twice made insolvency ‘we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives everything its value.’”

-Stuart Hayden

Stuart Hayden’s work ‘Apprehending Twelve Zeros Behind Thirteen Bars’ and ‘Nielsen Drops Out,” are to be viewed as an excerpt from a larger compilation of artwork entitled ‘Insolvency Two.’ For more information, or to procure a copy of this piece in its entirety, email base@activistjournal.com to be put in contact with this artist.

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health care is a human right aaron smith

how can pro-lifers not support health care?

D

uring the past year, we bore witness to a heated and downright dirty healthcare debate. We saw right-wing and left-wing conservatives take a principled stand against universal health care and single-payer health reform proposals, which were quickly taken off the table. We then saw pro-lifers band together and demand that no federal money be given to abortion procedures or they would “Kill the Bill.” The entire reform effort was almost derailed until President Obama capitulated and signed a last minute executive order reaffirming the government’s anti-abortionist stance.

What does it mean to be pro-life?

Before considering the strengths and weaknesses of the health care reform package signed by Obama, I would like to rewind and look at the moral and religious argument underpinning the issue of health care reform.

A number of months ago, the New York Times published an article entitled “A Modern Bible,” which satirically mimics a dialogue between Jesus and the lepers (Mark 1:40-47). In it Jesus asks them if they have insurance, and then proceeds to deny help because they have pre-existing conditions.

Similar cartoons and characterizations have popped up all over the Internet depicting Jesus turning away from those either without insurance or with pre-existing conditions.

Even though the Times cartoon is satirical, there is a lot of wisdom in pointing out the hypocritical nature of the so-called “pro-life” movement.

Pro-life legislative officials vehemently oppose reform of this nature, especially the idea of universal health care. It is interesting that many of these officials consider themselves pro-life. How can someone be pro-life and at the same time be against universal health coverage?

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It’s contradictory to support the rights of unborn children, while at the same time turn one’s back on health care reform legislation that serves to widen coverage and could benefit hundreds of thousands or even millions of these same children once they are born.

To make matters worse, the U.S. has the single highest number of teen pregnancies in the industrialized world. Research has shown that this is detrimental to the child long after he or she is born. Teen mothers are more likely to be poor and reliant on social services. Implicit here is the need of the mother and child for affordable or government-subsidized health insurance.

It is only reasonable to conclude that these same pro-life representatives only care about the well being of unborn children and not the long-term well being of children once they enter the world. Pro-life is limited to abortion; it doesn’t extend to the lives of those outside the womb.

The legislative process During the lead-up to the passage of health care reform legislation this March, we saw concentrated efforts from both Republicans and pro-life Democrats to discredit and undermine the bill. The rhetoric around health care was hostile and virtually split down partisan lines, with the notable exception of a handful of conservative Blue Dog Democrats.

In addition, we saw an upsurge of outright racist, sexist, and homophobic attacks by right-wing protesters. At the protest outside the U.S. Capital Building the day the bill went to a final vote, there were reports of picketers yelling out racial epithets to congressional members, including Representative John Lewis, Chair of the Congressional Black Caucus. Representative Emanuel Cleaver II, a Democrat from Missouri,

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was spit on. Representative Barney Frank was targeted with anti-gay chants. At previous Tea Party rallies, President Obama’s picture appeared on signs with racist characterizations; some even called for his lynching.

These incidents, while shocking, are not surprising, and serve as a potent reminder that racism is alive and well in America.

Strengths and weakness of Obama’s health care reform After a year of political wrangling, the health care legislation overcame many Republican barriers and obstructionist tactics and was finally signed into law, but this “reform” is far from the original goals set out by President Obama. While there are a number of good parts, the bill falls short of the real reform that many hoped for and need.

Let’s start with the good. According to the Congressional Budget Office (CBO), it is projected to eventually extend coverage to 32 million uninsured U.S. citizens by 2019. The bill will also hopefully reduce the deficit by $143 billion in the first 10 years. Increased governmental regulations on insurance companies will hopefully limit price hikes on premiums, and denials of coverage based on preexisting conditions will be eliminated.

This will occur in six months for children and for everyone else by 2014. It will help seniors afford drug costs by providing $250 rebates for those who fall into the Medicare “donut hole” and $500 billion worth of cuts, which will ideally limit overpayment for specialist services, reduce drug costs for Medicare Part D seniors, and reduce excess spending on Medicare Part-B premiums. The Medicaid poverty threshold will rise, meaning more lowerincome families can benefit from it. The bill lets young adults remain on their parents’ insurance until the age of 26. Larger businesses with 50 or more employees will be required to pay insurance for their employees or face a fine of $2000 per employee per year.

Here are the bad parts of the bill. The cost is an estimate and many economists expect the actual price to rise above the projected figure of $940 billion. People will be mandated to buy into the expensive private insurance

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system by 2014 or face a $695 fine. There is no public option, no single-payer system, and no government subsidized insurance plans, which could have significantly lowered the cost of health insurance. However, the federal government will attempt to provide incentives and subsidies to both small business and states to create “insurance exchanges,” though the money only begins to roll out in 2014, and many states are opposed to these changes.

Medicare will be cut. This will specifically affect seniors, which will most likely cause confusion and a flight out of Medicare Advantage into more traditional Medicare coverage or private insurance plans. Reimbursement pay for providers will likely also be cut, which may make it less desirable for practitioners to provide services to their Medicare patients. Abortion will not be covered and federal money cannot be spent on it; people will have to buy into separate plans or pay out of pocket. Undocumented immigrants will not be allowed to participate in the insurance exchanges, nor will they benefit from employer insurance plans.

The moral status of health care It is hard to say at this point whether the possible benefits outweigh the negatives. One thing is certain though: the pro-lifers succeeded in advancing their anti-abortion stance and the conservatives (Democrats and Republicans) succeeded in watering down the bill, making it not much more than a 2000-page book of regulations with the inclusion of a few mandates. There is much more work that needs to be done in order to get us to a universal health care system. The main task now is reframing the debate and getting the public to see the value of health care for all.

Health care is not a partisan issue; it’s a moral issue. Moreover, it is a human right. The Declaration of Independence clearly states that one has the right to “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” The right to life is an inalienable right and is inextricably linked to health; one cannot live in happiness or have longevity without proper health care.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus preached the following: “Blessed

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are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5), “You received without payment; give without payment” (Matt. 10: 8), and “cure the sick” (Matt. 10-7). Let’s take Jesus at his word and not deprive the meek, the poor, the sick, and the downtrodden of their basic human right – the right to life. Surely those who are pro-life should agree with this.

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diverse democracy cari smith

sometimes a hug is all it takes kelly kaoudis

“The childcare center of Red Rocks Community College provides childcare for single and busy parents who attend classes. In addition to caring for young children (from 18 months to kindergarten age), the center also educates those taking classes in early-childhood development. Early Childhood Colorado, which helps coordinate the program, is supported by community volunteers and the Marsico Institute for Early Learning and Literacy at the University of Denver.

Christa, who is featured in the photo on the opposing page, worked at the program in 2007 and 2008, is a Metro State College of Denver student majoring in Behavioral Science.�

- Kelly Kaoudis

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sea lions kelly kaoudis

there is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity andrew maples

The future is hard to recall.

What’s called first never really is.

I’m Adam, the first man, so I hold hands (a vigil…a touch of independent justice) with the last man, joined in the outward-facing circle, a wreath on the globular.

Conversation across the way happens but only through people.

Even if God as medium, as air, believe the conflict is ever man vs. god, and the peace is with that.

And also with you, Christ, on the old rugged perpendicular.

Amen?

A man,

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an astronaut cut loose from the ship (all push, no sail), with stretchy tube still attached-immediately remembered connections-no stomach undone, yes, hungry and force fed.

Even floating in space can be a rut with grave-like dimensions (one of Mary Oliver’s contentions).

No creation story is myth, and I disrespect the saying so‌ even if the umbilical was manmade.

Let there be one less sylla Bull market in Eden these days, where all sex is public.

Here before capitalism made meat irresponsible and before, even with blank dominion, we thought to partake, I named them from untitled poems-Creation goes both ways.

I did the first stand-up 69, and she held me.

Love is finished.

Love is labeled.

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there is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity

Love is symbol.

God encouraged my fictional works.

In my deity garden, I started from seeds shed for the many.

He was the first to bloom and be edible and beautiful.

I AM TOO, and I ate him face to face to learn undeniable intake.

Better different.

God: first taste of flesh.

Next: the archbishop of non-nutritive afterimage.

I conceived, processed, the following:

[And it was good. When God pulled out, the Void went unchanged. Void can fake a pretty decent orgasm. “Go make some friends,” the Void said to God. (I’m reminded that one day Emile Cioran would say, “Society is an inferno of saviors.” Society is unofficially my crop.)

With great power comes a great lack of imagination, so God made some idols in his own image. (Is that righteous? He threw me, Himself personified, a pot of living water. He knowing full well I was built to brim over.) God walked around with me and Eve in the Garden. (Before grammar, I came

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first.) Lesson: It’s easier to have the Lord beside you than inside you.

(Because rules are made in anticipation of brokenness, Mick Jagger will soon look in those Far Away Eyes…And the preacher said: “You know you always have the Lord by your side.” I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran twenty red lights in his honor….)

This was back when you could hide from God. God’s relationship with me turned conditional when I thought about myself. Free the will, you have progress, and coffin bells start to ringing. “I’m banishing you because I love you so much,” God said. (Tommy Robbins said it best, The rougher the world gets around me, the sweeter I seem to myself.)

God was left with a dense empty space and the worst kind of void--that which was once full up. God now pines for his first love, solitude. Hey God, is it just me, or does Eve look better now that she realizes her nakedness? Dramatic pause.]

It’s not just me.

Possibility realized.

I remain consolable.

The mirror could have seen me first.

Let us blame synaptic delay-Dr. Frankenstein throwing the switch.

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there is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity

I feel like an apple (said while holding my tongue) because I consciously participated in my demise: Paradise lost and found and relived, forgotten, a box of odds, an offering of pockets deeply ended, trends fad nauseum.

Some things permanent, like teeth, still fall, and e-den is now a website where you go to smoke virtual opium.

I’m most curious about slow death, and does it help me live?

Darwin got less fit as he ages.

I can’t see my cock for the muffin top of excesses (everything looks smaller from height perspective) because I never taught myself the basic teaching: Do not overcompensate for thine survival, you jerk-off!

But it feels so good!

While so many jokes go undocumented, will you laugh with me over the Tower of Babel?

Will you drink me under the tabula rasa?

As we confound ourselves with our ambition, we must speak with those near us.

God is always on that list.

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I AM EVOLVED… by knowing, I carved this deeply into the bark of the tree of good and evil, offensive graffiti on scientific history, Act I and already worthy of soliloquy...

Never mind evolving.

(God, I can’t stop to think!)

We are parasites for eyes sore from scanning horizons.

(God, take me back! Pull me forward!)

Biting rarefied air, I add my dust to the breath of high places.

Only so long can the artist wear his smock to keep the art off his birthday suit.

A fantasy: oh, to be of use, so I spin in buckets of color and rub against my lover.

A sunset.

Is that my blood on His hands?

But I meant what I used to be.

Adaptation without thought is purchased, eventually with vital impetus, worked out and through.

Major Waits to Jesus, Come down from the cross; we could use the wood.

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there is no remainder in the mathematics of infinity

I already left paradise.

Is that not the definition of hell?

I remember: death kills.

Death gives, is this a question of order?

Divinity amounting to a good guess, a try.

Either way we start a bonfire at Golgotha to catch God’s eye when we pray, Forgiving me the things I need.

Mainly the apple for the seed.

God changes, and I hear an echo in Anselm Hollo, The force of being she released in him being equal to the creation of himself.

We, Eve and I, were complicit in the first act.

I broke it off with her soon thereafter.

She and God had a fling in far reaches, but we come together…sometimes you screw your creations asunder.

I for one thrust myself in this poem’s genital direction without an idea for argument or conclusion.

My uni(dimensional)verse.

Now I date Dawn with darkness and lightness still chasing from all sides.

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She whispers, Fuckabees, in my ear. Sure.

I’m grateful she wasn’t built from part of my cage.

Creation happened quickly because we weren’t there.

The remainder is only embodied: redemption with sinful interludes (integrated as musical rest).

Choosing the poison glass, toasting my execution: To heaven as banishment and the antidote.

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alternative ways to use an ak-47 aaron young

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Dear Reader,

T

hough the staff is concerned with a common set of issues, we are a group of individuals all the same. Our opinions regarding activist issues differ, and our aesthetic taste is similarly varied. The views expressed in the essays, poems, paintings, and photographs in this journal are not necessarily representative of the opinions of every staff member or contributor.

Given the heterogeneous nature of the BASE staff, the pieces included in this publication were selected by majority vote. Staff members were assigned to read every submission, and our selection meetings consisted of long discussions concerning the merits and relevance of all the submissions. Arguments for the inclusion of a given piece were encouraged and common. Votes were rarely unanimous, and many strong pieces were left out of the final product due to space. When the discussion turned to a submission by a staff member, that person was asked to leave the room in the interest of preserving honest commentary.

With this in mind, we hope you enjoy the journal; the published submissions are as assorted and unique as the opinions of BASE staff members and our contributors.

-Staff

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Many people pay out of pocket to get their work published.

If selected, we will publish you free of charge!

You may submit as many pieces as you wish; however each must fall into one of these categories: » Essays (max 6 pages single spaced [= 12 pages double spaced]) » Opinion/Editorials (max 6 pages single spaced) » Photography and Art (b&w or color) » Poetry (max 5 pages, format at discretion of poet) » Current-Event Articles ( max 3 pages single spaced) » Comic Strips (max 2 pages , b&w or color) » Comments (including online comments) Submissions must relate to concerns such as cultural diversity, gender/sexuality, human rights, environmental issues, or other closely-related areas of interest.

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