Nobody has sympathy for prisoners. We have images of psychotic killers and manipulative masterminds, but very few people know who is inside our community's cages. I don't know. I've never actually been inside a prison, for any reason. I've been outside a couple of them, but never even farted near enough to annoy the guards at the front door.

But everybody has a crime victim story, real or imagined. Everybody knows, or likes to think they know, what it's like to be robbed, raped or murdered. I've been robbed... one a snatch and grab in Rome, and the other a slimy roommate at the icecream factory, but not the other two mercifully.

So it should be in all our interests to reform criminals whilst they are in prison, so that we don't end up victims of crimes that could have been prevented when the person was in the 'care' of the state.

In my wildest, anarchist fantasies, I'd like to represent a class action lawsuit on behalf of the Future Crime Victims of America. I want the prisons to be transparent to all media and community members. We should be allowed to talk to any prisoner, at any time and demand accountability for their progress. We should be allowed to consult with the education and medical staff about their classes and treatments. And we should be allowed to be satisfied that every prisoner has a support network to go to when they are released. Not surveillance, but support... so that they know all the people they live with, and they know that their wellbeing is dependent on the wellbeing of their neighbors.

I've started volunteering for the American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker organization that takes on some very curly social issues as advocacy campaigns. They are, as far as I know, the only folks in town who are actively pursuing prison reform. It may seem obvious why I did this, from my history with Justice Action, but it still wasn't entirely clear to me until I encountered the question on their info form. Why now, after a year back in the states, and why them, after having decided to volunteer on border issues with No More Deaths?

For starters, at the end of last year, NMD's decided to take 3 months off of meeting, but continued to support the project in Nogales. Decisions were still being made, but not with the input of the membership. Then last week, I heard rumors of a faction starting up their own meetings because they were not happy about the decisions that were being made. While I agree that there needs to be some attempt at democracy within the group, I'm not interested in getting in there and stepping on toes while sorting it out. I also felt very uncomfortable with the idea of being on-site in Nogales under the banner of a fragmented and disorganized group. My medical skills and knowledge are considerably worse than my Spanish (which is adequate to be generous), and so I would be about as useful as Mr. Clippy, the annoying paperclip assistant on Winblows.

"It looks like you're trying to migrate to the U.S. Would you like some water and a burrito?"

When what they really need is a week's rest, money, and a decent coyote at a minimum. Some of them need an ambulance and a lawyer.

So I thought I would go volunteer my time back with the crims. At least with them, you can maintain contact and see what kind of effect the work is having. On my second day there, I was on the phone with the Assistant Attorney General, asking him to help me shine some light on something called the "Violence Control Unit" at Eyman in Florence. It is so secret, it's not even on their website, and they refuse to release official policy on its use. So, already, I've put the powers-that-be on alert that somebody in this state gives a shit about these things.

I also responded to a prisoner who wanted to get his G.E.D, but because he is in super-maximum security, there are no education programs available. I phoned the prison and asked them why he was in super-max. They said it was because of threats to staff and violent behavior. So I wrote to him and told him what they'd told me. I added that while I know it's easy to get angry about the conditions, his ultimate revenge would come when he gets out of lockdown and back into education classes. Then when he gets out and gets a good job, he can laugh at the guards who still have to go to prison every day.

I managed to find my way to Brooklyn from Philadelphia airport (I will never take advice from that person again). I arrived at Onto's place in Bedford-Styvesant at night. I was told that this neigborhood produced several famous rappers, and that its a fairly rough place. My experiences have been good so far though. The people at the local deli speak Spanish more than English, and are quick enough to return a smile, or give me directions.

There was a protest about Oaxaca on Dec 22 in front of the Mexican Consulate. I helped make the signs for it the nights before. I was the only one to show up, despite a collective of about 80 people in a solidarity group making plans... same shit different city I guess. It was great to be able to show up in a new place and immediately dive into the activist scene. We marched from the Consulate to Rockefeller Centre and stood across from the big christmas tree, talking to passers by. The cops were well behaved, and so were the protesters.

Ok, I will now admit publicly to having signed up on a singles site. I appended to my basic profile: "Military and police need not apply." just so that I wouldn't be innundated with offduty soldiers from Ft. Huachuca. Some still try, and I'm finding it an interesting outlet for my political views.

The way to a man's brain is through his dick:

> ---------------------------------------------------
> Sender: DarkSpirals
> To: xxxxxxxxx
> Date: Dec 6, 2006 9:18 am PST
>
> Just curoius why no military or police?

1) Because they are two professions that I think it can be justifiable to kill. They both, as a part of their professional duties, put themselves in situations where reasonable people can be expected to try to kill them. I don't want to fuck anyone who I think it would be reasonable to kill.

2) I don't want to support the U.S. war on terror or the war on drugs in any way. (Google Lysistrata)

3) because they tend to be abusive, overbearing thugs, obssessed with power and domination.

Last weekend I went to Magdalena to sit in on the meeting of La Otra Campana. The meeting is part of a tour of Mexico with The Sixth Commission of The Other Campaign, and is intended to be an opportunity for the indigenous leaders of each region to come together and discuss the issues facing them.

I don't know what the other meetings have been like, but this one felt like a rock concert. There were more people from other countries there than there were indigenous people. The word had spread through the border activist communities that Delegate Zero, the rebel formerly known as Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos, would be in attendance. When he pulled up in his car, there was a media mob that followed him from the car into the hostel:

Of course, there was speculation about whether or not it was *really* Marcos, or if it was a body double. But does it really matter? The EZLN attracts considerable attention to its cause by having a celebrity rebel as its icon and leader. They were even selling t-shirts.

According to Irlandesa's Library there have been some groups within the movement who are dissatisfied with the tour of La Otra because it is cut off from its roots in the Lacandon Jungle, and makes decisions without consulting the grassroots.

So if Marcos is a fiction, he is a very clever fiction. If he is not, then I fear the Zapatista movement will go the way of many other revolutionary movements; factionalization which draws energy away from the fighting, rotting the movement from the inside, leaving only an empty balaclava and pipe to remember it by.

Whether or not it was the real Marcos, here he is, with some friends from No More Deaths

and from a new anti-biotechnology group:

behind a machete:

and receiving a drawing:

And one of the most interesting and perplexing facts about the event was that the federal police were in full cooperation. We were told that they were doing security for the event, and when we left we saw this:

The No More Deaths tent is set up at the Mariposa St. border port in Nogales, Sonora Mexico. There is a small patch of dirt next to the government offices. The government officials don't seem to do much, but neither do they bother us. The organisers have made an agreement with the Comission Estatal de Attencion de Migrantes (State Commision for Aid to Migrants), and they allow us to use their offices to store water, make food, and for volunteers to sleep, eat and basically live while working with the project.

Buses stop on the US side of the border, and up to 40 deported Mexicans (and sometimes Central and South Americans with fake Mexican papers) get off and walk over to where we are waiting. They are usually limping, some because of blisters, some because they have been beaten by the Border Patrol, but all because their shoe laces had been taken from them on arrest. We give them a small package of burritos, a bottle of water, and ask them if they have blisters or need medical care. Most refuse help, either because they are feeling ok, or because they are too proud to admit they are in pain. But there are always a few that accept. We sit them down under the tent and wash their feet, clean and bandage the blisters and let them rest for a while before setting out on their next mission.

Many immediately try to cross again. This is the main reason for the project. In previous years, the project was to walk in the desert, looking for migrants who were dehydrated or heat stressed because so many of them die every year trying to cross. The organisers realised that many of the serious cases were the ones who had tried to cross multiple times, and became more and more dehydrated and weak with each attempt. So we are in Nogales to try to send them off in slightly better shape, whatever their plans.

One fellow was trying to get over the fence close to the port. He was on his third attempt the other night and had made it over when the National Guard spotted him and gave chase. He ran and jumped back onto the fence. He slashed up his left arm on the razor wire, but managed to evade arrest. He came straight to us, where the nurse treated his cuts. The nurse knew him from previous attempts, and knew he was going to try again. So after closing up the wounds and wrapping the arm in gauze, he wrapped an extra layer of duct tape.

We have had problems with the coyotes - the men who take money from hopeful migrants to get them across the border illegally. For the most part, they are portrayed as ruthless capitalists who treat their clients like cargo, and they probably are. The fellows who have been hanging around our tent, however, have made an effort to be helpful and pleasant to us. They help us set up and take down, and most importantly, they help us talk to the migrants and get statements of abuse by the Border Patrol.

But they also do business, and this has become a problem. NMD does not want to become associated with particular coyotes, no matter how nice they are. Not only is it a crime in Mexico to be a coyote, but we have no idea what happens to the people if they do elect to hire our man for their next crossing. There was the case of Jonatan, who had been deported and was helping around the tent. We all thought it was out of gratitude, until someone spotted him recruiting for a coyote. It was tense because we all liked him, and he was being extremely helpful, but we could not make an exception for one, for fear of starting a turf war.

We still have not come to a clear policy on how to deal with Mexican volunteers, some of whom are legit, others who are using our goodwill to make a profit. But then I realised that they were here first. We are encroaching on their turf rather than the other way around. The coyotes have told us that they pay the chief of police US $20,000 per week to protect their turf. If any other coyotes try to recruit from the deportation port, they will be arrested.

The dynamics of the border are surreal, and yet predictable. I'm told that there are holes in the fences that have been there for decades. The authorities leave them open and unpatrolled most of the time, and the highest paid coyotes know when they are patrolled. But when political pressure comes down on the Border Patrol, and they have to look like they are doing their job, they know that they can just go to the holes, as conveniently as going to their own refrigerator, and grab enough to appease the appetites-that-be.

I forgot to mention that when we arrived in Guadalajara, we got on a city bus to Varo's house. In the middle of the windshield was a 3 foot high, wooden cross with a sculpture of Jesus. There were small red lights in the wood of the cross, spaced a few inches apart. Every time the driver stepped on the brakes, the cross lit up... only in Mexico.

Made me think of Margaret Mayhem... ;)

I have begun working on an herb garden for my mom's catering kitchen.  She has so much compostable goodness, that it seemed like the thing to do.  I have to keep it watered because the weather here is so dry, that stuff doesn't rot properly.  I turn it every few days.  The pile is dark brown, and various sprouts come up from time to time, only to be dug back in with the next turning.  

As I was digging the compost into the garden bed today, I remembered a moment in the Walls of Jerusalem National Park in Tasmania, when I was sitting amongst the rocks by the Pool of Bethesda, looking at all the beautiful shapes of the dead trees on the hills around the pool.  It had only been a few months since pred died, and I began thinking about what it must be like to be one of the trees, in amongst the rotting corpses of my closest friends and relatives.  Sometimes fallen branches leaned on the living trees.  I realised that death for them is a long process, rather than a single moment.  Not only that, but all the life juices from their friends' bodies gets put back into the soil from which the living trees feed.  

(Picture: Andrew McNaughton)

Then I thought of pred's analysis of the data that makes up a human personality.  He argued that our personalities are just composites of others' that we have stolen along the way.  I wondered if reincarnation is just the combination of the physical rotting of the body back into the soil, but also the dispersing of the personality through interactions with people.

At a recent indymedia meeting, there was news that a friend was pregnant.  All agreed that the baby would be good for both parents, having met on a trip to help the clean up in New Orleans.  They live in Prescott, where there is an anarchist infoshop called Catalyst.  Bill Rodgers, the founder of the shop died late last year, in prison, where he was serving time for alleged political crimes.  A woman talking about the pregnancy gave a very forceful argument for the assumption that the child was, in fact, Bill reincarnated.  My first thought was... wow, what a big load to put on the kid!  

But later I thought... perhaps that's the way reincarnation happens... all that good life energy that Bill had, which made him such a popular figure, is now going to be composted back into the personality of the kid, by way of Bill's friends.  

Ok, time to let the cat out of the bag... I have avoided publicly admitting that I've left Australia because I didn't want the Wolf to find out where I am, but that makes blogging very difficult, and there's just too much interesting stuff happening here in Tucson to keep it quiet.

I attended an activist conference in Phoenix, where I learned about the Indigenous Community Police in Guerrero, Mexico. If a police force could ever be considered true to anarchist principles, these guys are it. The police are elected by the community, they are not paid for their work, but receive donations from community members. A committee oversees their actions and deals with more serious crimes like murder.

I have found the local Indymedia mob, and an anarchist warehouse all in the same place. I have joined the imc-arizona-edit listserv, but as yet have not been given the password, or a tutorial in how to moderate an sfactive site. Not sure if this is because of disorganisation or process. I have started a discussion about transparency in the collective, because I was shocked to learn that they write features offlist, don't post a reason when hiding stories, and don't take minutes at meetings which only began to happen in the last 2 months. This is despite their link to maffew's classic rant on open publishing which says:

Open publishing means that the process of creating news is transparent to the readers. They can contribute a story and see it instantly appear in the pool of stories publicly available. Those stories are filtered as little as possible to help the readers find the stories they want. Readers can see editorial decisions being made by others. They can see how to get involved and help make editorial decisions.

This closed organising policy has caused much criticism and speculation on their newswire. I have since learned that sydney is one of the few collectives left with totally open and transparent organising, a fact of which I am very proud.