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Posts by Chris Wilton

Justin and Katy who? The onions of Nicolas should make your eyes water instead.

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Farewell to the International Brigades, 1938. Pic: Chim

Farewell to the International Brigades, 1938. Pic: Chim

"Balkan and Ukrainian fighters share a national or ethnic identity, and return to their homeland, whether recent or generational.

"But where do you go to fight for someone else's cause because you also believe in their cause?"

5/5

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The Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion from Canada

The Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion from Canada

"The unique nature of the Int'l Brigades is that they consisted of so many disparate individuals. Jihadis today in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan share an extreme version of religion, no different from Canadians in the IDF. Religion may be considered an ideology, but it is also an identity.

4/5

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Around 3 in the afternoon of 14 April 1931, someone hung the tricolour Republican flag on the roof of the Central Post Office in Madrid’s Cibeles Square. Years later, writer María Zambrano would recall how word spread and that within minutes, “a crowd made up of groups, residents of the neighbourhoods, friends, people who suddenly were fraternizing” took over the city centre. Some three hours later, the Second Republic was proclaimed.

Around 3 in the afternoon of 14 April 1931, someone hung the tricolour Republican flag on the roof of the Central Post Office in Madrid’s Cibeles Square. Years later, writer María Zambrano would recall how word spread and that within minutes, “a crowd made up of groups, residents of the neighbourhoods, friends, people who suddenly were fraternizing” took over the city centre. Some three hours later, the Second Republic was proclaimed.

"There are no more unions worth the name to organize us; there is no more Soviet Union to look to for instructions or arms. There are only the oligarchs and those who work for them and the great many individual “us”.

3/5

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Dolores Ibárruri (right) with French activist Bernadette Cattanéo [Secretary General of the World Committee Against War and Fascism], 1936

Dolores Ibárruri (right) with French activist Bernadette Cattanéo [Secretary General of the World Committee Against War and Fascism], 1936

"For, wherever people are willing to do things together, against their own personal interest, and for a stranger for whom they feel neighbourly love or a kinship, that is solidarity. Your fight is my fight.

2/5

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Youth Choir of the Antifascist Committee of Canton, Ohio, around 1937. Many Spanish immigrants had joined the waves of European economic refugees in the latter 19th and early 20th centuries.

Youth Choir of the Antifascist Committee of Canton, Ohio, around 1937. Many Spanish immigrants had joined the waves of European economic refugees in the latter 19th and early 20th centuries.

Notes from Spanish Civil War: "If liberal democracy is declining now in the endgame of capitalism and a ghost of the past, fascism, returns to haunt us, it is to the solidarity of the Int'l Brigades we must look. To anti-ICE watchers, to BLM protestors, to marchers for Palestine, we must look.🧵 1/5

4 days ago 5 3 1 0

You know something is up when you get this response. Publicly-funded food poses a huge threat to his masters.

4 days ago 6 0 0 0

you shouldn’t learn about bands from shady TikTok manipulation, you should learn about bands by hanging out with a girl you like but are also extremely afraid of

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Art deco depiction of young Spanish woman's face wearing a crown with stylized sun behind her reading "Republica Española 14 de Abril de 1931"

Art deco depiction of young Spanish woman's face wearing a crown with stylized sun behind her reading "Republica Española 14 de Abril de 1931"

95 years ago today, the 2nd Republic "La Niña Bonita" of Spain was declared. As people danced in the street, progressive Spaniards believed they had left the darkness of the church, corrupt monarchical and colonial institutions behind them while the rich turned to fascism to protect their interests.

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Vision Song                          June 14th, 1988

A wondrous poem of awesome fate 
met hand in hand with me
One fearful moment of my weary life
forever stilled in memory
Years before I knew no love nor God
and neither did I care
For these couldn't give me immediate gain
of wealth I dreamt, pleasure was there!

Yet when there came a time of sorrow
I found myself alone
The intoxication of cold power
had given me a silent home
So out I went with insane intent
death held heavy in hand
I did not plan to fall above the stars
and see this song, you understand?

An uncanny song, dancing in light
playing for lovers ears
My spirit left its material cage 
the bars of flesh and evil fears
To return once more to majesty
across the abyss deep
I threw into the pit this mortal chain
and was I AM in eternal sleep.

But so afraid of unreality
I chose then to come back
To only just be sure of who I was
and never again to paint it black
Now I sing this song of constant love
to which there is no end
Hoping against darkness to find my way
Along this path, past every bend.

Vision Song June 14th, 1988 A wondrous poem of awesome fate met hand in hand with me One fearful moment of my weary life forever stilled in memory Years before I knew no love nor God and neither did I care For these couldn't give me immediate gain of wealth I dreamt, pleasure was there! Yet when there came a time of sorrow I found myself alone The intoxication of cold power had given me a silent home So out I went with insane intent death held heavy in hand I did not plan to fall above the stars and see this song, you understand? An uncanny song, dancing in light playing for lovers ears My spirit left its material cage the bars of flesh and evil fears To return once more to majesty across the abyss deep I threw into the pit this mortal chain and was I AM in eternal sleep. But so afraid of unreality I chose then to come back To only just be sure of who I was and never again to paint it black Now I sing this song of constant love to which there is no end Hoping against darkness to find my way Along this path, past every bend.

When I was a teenager, I took LSD and lost and found my mind. A bad trip, destination salvation, and years of flashbacks. Obsessed with Yeats, visions and gyres, and experimenting with the Golden Dawn, I wrote this poem. @rfsmith.bsky.social #PromptCombo #Visions

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My fellow Canucks, new car headlamps are a menace on our roads and I hope you complete this survey so something can begin to be done about it.
tc.canada.ca/en/corporate...

2 weeks ago 1 1 0 0

Gosh, Vic, your words always bring me back around xo

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I think this is all quite explainable... through the holy power of divine blackout! He is exactly the kind of person you would want with their hands on the wheel in times of disaster: whoops! Sorry, I translated to Cracker Barrel because Jesus wanted me to stuff my face during that hurricane.

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It's so refreshing to have a politician finally say out loud: no one ever asks if the police turn a profit so why should the post office

3 weeks ago 481 89 4 1

Happy Trans Day of Visibility. I know trans people and I know fascists who are making life difficult for trans people. The trans people are pretty cool and I'm glad I know them. The fascists can go fall down a deep dark hole.

3 weeks ago 1856 347 16 11

I will admit to being an @avilewis.ca sceptic. He changed my mind after hearing him speak in Nogo. You will too, who has ears to hear. Don't believe the corporate media: they're terrified. Believe the centrists NDPers who want to dissolve the left into LibLite: they're pulling out. Forward.

3 weeks ago 0 0 0 0

Yeah, that was a fucking great speech.

The new NDP leader, folks. Avi Lewis.

3 weeks ago 559 97 29 10

Today I referenced the 1960 victory of The New Party in PTBO at @trentuniversity.bsky.social. But honestly, if @ndp.ca and @ptbondp.bsky.social can't be bothered to post about the NDP leadership convention happening this weekend, can they complain of being ignored by the msm? @avilewis.ca

3 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
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Angine de Poitrine - Full Performance (Live on KEXP)
Angine de Poitrine - Full Performance (Live on KEXP) YouTube video by KEXP

The best microtonal music to mark to youtu.be/0Ssi-9wS1so?...

3 weeks ago 0 0 0 0
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ACLU, others, file suit against ICE, Department of Homeland Security, over warrantless arrests The suit filed in federal court in Columbus Wednesday asks the court to order agents to stop making warrantless arrests without determining escape risks, among other things.

In case you missed it, we are suing ICE for their unlawful practice of conducting warrantless arrests without probable cause.

www.wosu.org/politics-gov...

4 weeks ago 11222 3080 151 75

Get it

4 weeks ago 1 0 0 0
At any rate we will not stop reading fictional stories, because it is in them that we seek a formula to give meaning to our exis-tence. Throughout our lives, after all, we look for a story of our origins, to tell us why we were born and why we have lived. Sometimes we look for a cosmic story, the story of the universe, or for our own personal story (which we tell our confessor or our analyst, or which we write in the pages of a diary). Sometimes our personal story coincides with the story of the universe.
It has happened to me, as the following piece of natural nar-rative will attest.
Several months ago I was invited to visit the Science Museum of La Coruña, in Galicia. At the end of my visit the curator announced that he had a surprise for me and led me to the planetarium. Planetariums are always suggestive places because when the lights are turned off, one has the impression of being in a desert beneath a starlit sky. But that evening something special awaited me.

At any rate we will not stop reading fictional stories, because it is in them that we seek a formula to give meaning to our exis-tence. Throughout our lives, after all, we look for a story of our origins, to tell us why we were born and why we have lived. Sometimes we look for a cosmic story, the story of the universe, or for our own personal story (which we tell our confessor or our analyst, or which we write in the pages of a diary). Sometimes our personal story coincides with the story of the universe. It has happened to me, as the following piece of natural nar-rative will attest. Several months ago I was invited to visit the Science Museum of La Coruña, in Galicia. At the end of my visit the curator announced that he had a surprise for me and led me to the planetarium. Planetariums are always suggestive places because when the lights are turned off, one has the impression of being in a desert beneath a starlit sky. But that evening something special awaited me.

Suddenly the room was totally dark, and I could hear a beau-tiful lullaby by de Falla. Slowly (though slightly faster than in reality, since the presentation lasted fifteen minutes in all the sky above me began to rotate. It was the sky that had appeared over my birthplace, Alessandria, Italy, on the night of January 5-6, 1932. Almost hyperrealistically, I experienced the first night of my life.
I experienced it for the first time, since I had not seen that first night. Perhaps not even my mother saw it, exhausted as she was after giving birth; but perhaps my father saw it, after quietly stepping out on the terrace, a little restless because of the (to him at least) wondrous event which he had witnessed and which he had jointly caused.
The planetarium used a mechanical device that can be found in a great many places. Perhaps others have had a similar expe-rience. But you will forgive me if during those fifteen minutes I had the impression that I was the only man, since the dawn of time, who had ever had the privilege of being reunited with his own beginning. I was so happy, that I had the feeling-almost the desire-that I could, that I should, die at that very moment, and that any other moment would have been untimely. I would cheerfully have died then, because I had lived through the most beautiful story I had ever read in my entire life. Perhaps I had found the story that we all look for in the pages of books and on the screens of movie theaters: it was a story in which the stars and I were the protagonists. It was fiction because the story had been reinvented by the curator; it was history because it re-counted what had happened in the cosmos at a moment in the past; it was real life because I was real, and not the character of a novel. I was, for a moment, the model reader of the Book of Books.
That was a fictional wood I wish I had never had to leave.
But since life is cruel, for you and for me, here I am.

Suddenly the room was totally dark, and I could hear a beau-tiful lullaby by de Falla. Slowly (though slightly faster than in reality, since the presentation lasted fifteen minutes in all the sky above me began to rotate. It was the sky that had appeared over my birthplace, Alessandria, Italy, on the night of January 5-6, 1932. Almost hyperrealistically, I experienced the first night of my life. I experienced it for the first time, since I had not seen that first night. Perhaps not even my mother saw it, exhausted as she was after giving birth; but perhaps my father saw it, after quietly stepping out on the terrace, a little restless because of the (to him at least) wondrous event which he had witnessed and which he had jointly caused. The planetarium used a mechanical device that can be found in a great many places. Perhaps others have had a similar expe-rience. But you will forgive me if during those fifteen minutes I had the impression that I was the only man, since the dawn of time, who had ever had the privilege of being reunited with his own beginning. I was so happy, that I had the feeling-almost the desire-that I could, that I should, die at that very moment, and that any other moment would have been untimely. I would cheerfully have died then, because I had lived through the most beautiful story I had ever read in my entire life. Perhaps I had found the story that we all look for in the pages of books and on the screens of movie theaters: it was a story in which the stars and I were the protagonists. It was fiction because the story had been reinvented by the curator; it was history because it re-counted what had happened in the cosmos at a moment in the past; it was real life because I was real, and not the character of a novel. I was, for a moment, the model reader of the Book of Books. That was a fictional wood I wish I had never had to leave. But since life is cruel, for you and for me, here I am.

The beautiful closing of Umberto Eco's _6 walks in the fictional woods_ --- the book is explores what makes narrative work, how it operates relative to truth, why we distinguish betw fiction and nonfiction. A great read for writers, scientists, anyone w/ an interest in narrative

4 weeks ago 102 24 3 0

Such a wonderful, forceful and energetic reading of your ghost story, Paul. The spittle flies off the page like GBH and gave me arrhythmia!

4 weeks ago 1 0 1 0

For the record, the beverage options were Chenin, Nebbiolo, Saison, Junmai sake, n/a red ale, and #Proxies bubbly.

1 month ago 1 0 0 0

In my cheese pairing class yesterday a student decided to pair two different cheeses with each other (aged blue and Morbier) and it was honestly a brilliant combination, producing a subtle smokiness while supporting piquancy with creamy fat. 1+1=3. More of this, please! #FoodAndBevPairing #cheese

1 month ago 0 0 1 0
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Amnesty Head Agnès Callamard on Iran War, Global Fight for Gender Justice & Killing of Yanar Mohammed Democracy Now! recently sat down with Agnès Callamard, the secretary general of Amnesty International and a former United Nations special rapporteur, while she was in New York City to mark Internation...

Amnesty International's Agnès Callamard says it's possible to condemn the government of Iran for its human rights violations without seeing the U.S.-Israeli war as "anything else but an act of aggression which will also victimize people and civilians."

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Capri pizza box

Capri pizza box

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A Windsor, Ontario-style pizza

A Windsor, Ontario-style pizza

My first real Windsor pizza from Capri!! Courtesy a very kind @eriepelee.bsky.social 💗🎉🍕🙏🏽

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Boot and Shoe Operatives Unite!

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