1.Mate Ka Moris Ukun Rasik An
Dickheads shit-talk huddled and single-file. first-world
frat-boys and prairie skinheads who will never walk a mile or
mourn a murdered friend in this tiny woman's shoes. drink up and
mumble you
Se. i'm still humbled by it all：around the same time that i was
riding with no hands, busting windows and getting busy behind
the sportsplex (with labonte's older sister decked out in her
speed
Bella was flinching from the sting of a depo proveran 'family
planning', her own pearl harbour and a holocaust spanning 25
years to the rest of her life. a prison my country underwrote
Aradise. and in the shadows of santa cruz, she crossed her
fingers behind her back. built suharto a trojan horse and lay
still till the motherfucker sent her north where as night fell
she emerge
H a box under her arm that held her pledge of allegiance and her
uniform. she laid it at the gates of the general's embassy and
her whisper echoed into dawn as she disappeared：
The truth will set my people free.
This song was inspired by the real-life story of bella gahlos.
we met her in 1997 at an east timor alert network benefit in
winnipeg. we are humbled to have crossed paths with her. this is
her s
？
Bella gahlos is one of three east timorese who have defected to
canada. she was only three years old when indonesia invaded her
country. her two young brothers were beaten to death and her
fathe
Thrown into jail when the indonesian military entered her home
in january 1976. after the dili massacre, her older brother was
jailed and brutally tortured for having made a 'free east tim
Ot; t-shirt worn by some of the demonstrators.
Although she focused on her personal experience as a young
survivor of the indonesian occupation, bella also addressed u.s.
complicity in the invasion and occupation of east timor and the
united
Es government's continuing military and economic support for the
brutal suharto regime.
In her talks, bella often recounted her experience with
indonesia's forced sterilization of timorese women and girls.
she was only thirteen years old when the military came to her
school and ask
L the young women to line up after forcing the boys to leave the
room.
'they told us we needed to be injected to stay healthy,' she
explained. 'i was frightened; i didn't trust them. five of them
had to hold me down, and they had a very hard time. th
Ey came to my home the same week and injected me again.'
Much later, with the help of bishop belo, she discovered that
she and her classmates had been injected with depo-provera (a
birth control drug).
Bella also spoke of living under a constant fear of being raped：
'women in east timor are raped all the time by the military.
they just come into your home and force you.'
Bella began to work with the underground resistance in 1989,
helping to plan demonstrations and convincing other women to
take an active role in the movement. in 1991, bella helped to
organize t
Aceful march to the santa cruz cemetery in dili. when the
indonesian military opened fire on the demonstration, bella
managed to get herself and her pregnant aunt over the high
cemetery walls to
Ty. more than 250 of her friends were not so lucky, being
brutally killed in the massacre.
In the aftermath of the massacre bella joined the indonesian
military youth corps to mask her involvement in the
demonstration. for three years the indonesian authorities
trained her to fight ag
Her own people. during this time, bella secretly used her army
salary to help the resistance movement.
In 1994, after months of interrogation and instruction, the
indonesian government selected bella to represent east timorese
youth in the canada world youth program. she was well trained to
speak
He canadian media and to portray suharto's propaganda machine's
version of a 'typical' young timorese _ educated, successful,
and pro-integration.
Bella defected after her arrival in canada with the help of her
uncle, constâncio pinto, who had escaped east timor shortly
after the dili massacre. since then, bella has been perfecti
R english and touring canada to speak for her country's freedom.
to learn more or to join her struggle, visit www.etan.ca
2.Fuck The Border
A friend of mine dropped me a line, it said, 'man, i gotta run
to the usa. i got no money, got no job.' she skipped out of
mexico to stay alive. you've got a problem with her living he
Ut what did you do to help her before she fucking came？ what did
the country do？ what did the people do？ i stand not by my
country, but by people of the whole fucking world. no fences, no
border
Ee movement for all. fuck the border. it's about fucking time to
treat people with respect. it's our culture and consumption that
makes her life unbearable. fuck this country; its angry eyes, it
E-jerk hordes. legal or illegal, watch her fucking go. she'll
take what's hers. watch her fucking go. fuck the border.
Some people have to stay and fight for survival in the country
they live in while others have to leave to survive. corporations
cross international borders all the time in search of people to
ex
For profit and no one stops them. they call it globalization. on
the other hand, the victims of corporate domination are told
that they can't cross borders in search of better lives, and are
fo
To stay and deal with the social, economic and environmental
messes the companies leave behind when they inevitably move
their operations to places with even more 'favourable business
clima
(re： lower wages, lax environmental laws, tax breaks). looks
like capitalism and human-rights don't mix.
3.Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes
The tangled webs they weave span from pine to ruby ridge, way
back from shay's defeat on up to gustafsen (now cue the ass
parade of ditto-heads and commissars and pricks to drown out
this fainte
Reat of commie faggot heretics). conclusion：the nail that sticks
up gets hammered down and the master's finest tools are found
slack-jawed and placid amidst the cacophony of screaming
billboard
Disney-fied history. sometimes the ties that bind are strange：no
justice shines upon the cemetery plots marked hampton, weaver or
anna-mae where federal bureaus and fraternal orders have cast
Shadows; permanent features built into these borders. but
undercover of the customary gap we find between history and
truth, the founding fathers bask in the rocket's blinding red
glare. the bo
Ursting in air. one nation. indivisible？ the truth is when the
back-country learned of ratification the people had a coffin
painted black and solemnly borne in funeral procession, they
buried it
In the earth as an emblem of
The dissolution and internment of their publick liberty.
someday, somewhere, today's empires are tomorrow's ashes.
4.Back To The Motor League
I like to party fucking hard. i like my rock and roll the same.
don't give a fuck if i burn out. don't give a fuck if i fade
away. so back to the motor-league with me before i'm forced to
face t
Ath of a well-heeled buying public who live vicariously through
tortured-artist college-rock and floor-punching macho pabulum.
back to the motor league i go. once thought i drew a lucky hand.
tu
Out to be a live grenade of play-acting 'anarchists' and
mommy's-little-skinheads, death-threats and sycophants and
wieners drunk on straight-edge. fuck off. who cares？ i'd rather
hi-l
Rip-tiks than listen to your bullshit. fuck off. who cares about
your stupid scenes, your shitty zines, the straw-men you build
up to burn. it never ceases to amaze me and as i'm suffering
your
Ction it reminds me of my own race to redress my own sad history
of mouthed feet. eaten hats. teated bulls. amish phone-books.
drunken brawls. but what have we here？ 15 years later it still
reek
＆swill and chickenshit conformists wi
Th their fists in the air; like-father, like-son 'rebels§
bloated on korn, eminems and bizkits. lord, hear our prayer：
take back your amy grant mosh-crews and your fair-weather
politics. b
Ry my hair and stick me on a ten-speed. back to the motor
league. i guess life is just a popularity contest. success, the
ability to perform within a framework of obedience. just ask the
candy-c
Joy-cam rock-bands selling shoes for venture-capitalists,
silencing competing messages, rounding off the jagged edges.
today is good day to die.
5.Natural Disasters
In which god's name will we be killed？ who's most righteous？
who's most terrified？ when your parents left the house we would
creep up to their room, to the drawer beside the bed. we would
pull o
E shining dildo. one side dink, the other side jesus. not
hedonists. not atheists. churchgoers. blockparents. i wonder
what lurks in neighbors' drawers？ the most pristine are hiding
everything.
Is our 'decaying society'？ these are the married ones. what
about the others？ don't condemn your life to be riddled with
shame. everyone's hands cause natural disasters.
6.With Freinds Like These, Who The Fuck Needs Cointelpro？
With friends like these, who the fuck needs cointelpro？ i'm
punch-drunk on the sickening cadence of iron-fists in velvet
gloves. the cheshire grins. the crippling judas kiss to christen
thee a s
G ship and the purpose of this new counter-intelligence
endeavor is to expose, disrupt, misdirect, discredit or
otherwise neutralize any parades that you can't jump in front
of. any long yea
Hard work that ain't yours. sometimes i wonder if you just can't
help yourself？ overhead bloodthirsty vultures circle patiently.
they offer condolences (and whisper bitter eulogies). yes, '
Ades' come as thick as thieves. but you got another thing
coming. with friends like these, who the fuck needs cointelpro？
7.Albright Monument, Bagdhad
Wadia's best friend's youngest sister was denied a proper burial
because for two days they couldn't douse the flames the allied
planes had showered on her tiny body. and all the paper trails
tha
D to all the roads that lead to all these basras make it seem
like we're all just 'collateral damage' waiting to be happened
in some unforeseen pentagon budget-drill. today's ba'ath re
Is just the red scare of yesteryear. and i drink myself to sleep
because i'm losing faith that any of us will ever amount to
anything more than reluctant human subsidies, the moving parts
in a d
Machine, protesting their complicity, but waiting for somebody
else to throw their body on the churning gears. i drink myself
to sleep because i'm losing faith that we, here in the cradle of
aff
E can cease this sickening drive for individual strength through
state-powers' swinging fists or that we'll ever look back and
laugh at the irony that is：an atomic murderer is enshrined in
inde
Nce, usa while 8000 miles from here (ba
Ck in the cradle of democracy) it's another banner year for a
cottage industry a ritual at the corner of george and
constantine - as foundries scramble to recast his decapitated
monument.
8.Ordinary People Do Fucked-up Things When Fucked-up Things Become
Ordinary
Words can't do justice to pain. seems like they can't feel a
thing. ordinary people do fucked-up things when fucked-up things
become ordinary. i can't promise utopia or a better world. i
have no
Er lures. no harsh punishment if you don't bite the hook. it's a
world of shit or bust. there's no escape from disappointment.
when you commit heart and soul to earning your place, someone
else
Have to cheer you on. what are you capable of？ you can be the
one to string them up and beat them to death. when you cut the
bodies down, you'll see the face of your failure and shame. this
is a
D of professional liars：a bleating chorus of tempered truths,
who like pealing church-bells echo its' virtues sung over and
over and over again. rotting at the bottom is better than living
as a
. i can't find the meaning in the great achievement. when you
commit heart and soul to earning your place, opportunity kills
common sense
9.Ladies' Nite In Loserville
Drains her fifth and spits out a greek translation＊. she slurs
'how much more bullshit you got left？ cuz you been feeding me
this crap about ＆free speech' and ＆thought-police' like i'm su
D to sit and swoon'. it takes three more rounds till the subject
changes and in that time she lays it down：'fuck larry flynt and
any campaign to silence women standing up and fighting
. and i fuck to cum, so don't lay your ＆repressed' shit on me. i
fuck to cum. fuck your blessed trinity. i'm so sick of
needle-dicks and (selective) first-amendments. i can out-think,
out-drink
-fuck-you-all so fuck your bullshit ＆femi-nazi' crap, no
needle-dick's gonna silence me. i fuck to cum.'
＊ graphos = graphic depiction, pornos = female sexual slave
10.Ego Fum Papa(I Am The Pope)
'live like an angel, die like a devil.' don't let it worry you,
we're down here together. we're all here：heathens, heretics,
kids with blue socks. i asked some questions and wasn't sa
Ed with the answers. it seems that's the biggest crime since not
fitting in. but we're all here：king diamond, todd's mom, fallen
angels, the decimated cultures, the kid in the corner in sweat p
We'll find our own way.
11.New Homes For Idle Hands
Suburbs tremble again, fearing the have-nots at the window,
collecting their fair share. guns and alarms aren't enough. they
demand justice, and every criminal locked away, as well as any
kid wh
Ht do something wrong. there's a jail out of town with fences so
high we won't think about who's inside. neighbours are
disappearing behind the bars. kids are doing time for petty
crimes. it don
Tter who they are. it don't matter that they're alive. a
warehouse for victims of circumstance. cops are rounding up
slaves; workers that can't complain or come late. a workforce
behind bars. th
Make gadgets, circuit boards or fix cars. it don't matter who
they are. it don't matter that they're alive. crime pays, ask
the bankers floating bonds to build cages for the inner-city's '
Hands§ instead of schools. factories with fences meet the
prisons without walls. we shall have your skulls. they'll kick
you to the ground. you'll find yourself employed again. on the
inside.
12.Bullshit Politicians
Every fucking day our cities tell us what they think of justice.
they lock the courageous away as the cowards plaster the cracks
spreading through the monolith. but if this man isn't freed,
this
Burns. 'on this day of remembrance let us not kneel and pray for
the dead. let us stand and activate for the living, to rescue
those about to die' at the hands of bullshit politicians
Ated pin-dick motherfuckers who bow and curtsy to the seats of
power. we'll never learn and nothing will ever change as long as
we stay this course of followers and slaves. i can't believe
we're
L content reshuffling the same old decks of kings and queens and
faux-democracies. i say we hand it back to the bullshit
politicians. brick by brick, wall by wall
13.March Of The Crabs
We stood our ground waiting for the fight to begin. my eyes
squinted at the sun, wondering if they'd swing or run. i tell no
lie：jackknives in socks, they're all gonna die. tensions rise.
pre-p
Swarm the hill like flies. get the caskets ready, we're going to
tear right through this city. that's if the anger don't, that's
if the boredom don't, the drinking don't intercept this
north-end
E. who am i？ fighting a war that i can't win. swelling with
things we try to hide. you never leave anyone behind. a harsh
return that slaps you in the face. for one last chance, we leave
this pl
We're all packing up and moving on. i've got a war in the head.
fear our lives won't pass as great events. a better prospect
hides up ahead. do you feel it in the air？ we've been crushed
beyond
Ion. farce and death walk hand in hand. graves and memorial
walls hold my family name. pills and bottles do the same. i hope
that freedom's coming our way.
The fight never happened. the crowd petered out. we all dribbled
home. mission accomplished.
14.Purina Hall Of Fame
Sleeping masters roused to burning homes from beds. steeping
toddlers plucked from their watery deaths：ribbons, plaques and
soft-soap are the ephemeral rewards paid to the slaves whose
selfless
Accord a higher value to their masters, while parting gifts
(bolt pistols) console the rest. the remainder. too bad the
tributes paid to lives that relegate these thrones to lives
spent valuing
Runners-up, are known to be neither fleeting nor desirable. but
nothing surprises me these days. i just sit and watch the
box-cars roll by and wait. patient. unattended. a package under
a termin
Nch. a short fuse to scatter steady hands if i forget to
remember that better lives have been lived in the margins,
locked in the prisons and lost on the gallows than have ever
been enshrined in
Ces.
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