excerpt from a letter written recently to a friend bernie (whom some of you may recognize as the quick walking, quick talking spectre who holds black cat club in DC together); fused with a similar letter previously sent to "elbow deep", aka the clever and guapa kristen sonntag who all-ways shows all her tits to all of brooklyn.. .


how are you my nocturnal, superhuman friend? well, i
hope, and well rested at least sometimes.

this is your faithful turkish friend and ex falafel
technican, Cem, reporting from overseas, as promised.

according to my initial plans, i was to be situated
somewhere near our hugely tall and similarly noble friend Brian Duss right
about now - somewhere in Muslim-Fun-Land between Syria
and Cairo.

plans have changed somewhat, as i decided to take the
long way to the middle east, with a detour in
southeast asia. this detour has become a long term
stay - as i have unexpectedly become obsessed with

1. the slender and hairless qualities of the women
that populate these parts (got the yellow fever, to
be sure)

2. the truly fucked political situation in Burma, and
the amazing people i have met who are involved in the
democracy/opposition movement there.

3. a new distaste for the ugly and honestly "noone
is fucking right" tangle of middle eastern politics
that grows with every saudi and isreali i meet.


so im in northern thailand, yeah, and i think someone cast a spell on me,
no shit (could just be the incredible amounts of friend
meats ive been eating tho). burmans do
these things, and i am actually beginning to
believe it. i havent slept without percoset and
thai whiskey in several days, and i always feel
as if a storm is gathering in my presence.
maybe its NOT evil voodoo magic, and its the other
way around, now that i think about it. ill just
have to finish all these pills and see.


so i live in the shadow a green mountain, on top
of which sits a palace and a buddha in
gold and all of his well toothed protectors. and
also apparently some of his glue huffing meth popping teens, who hang out near the scenic viewpoints to stare blankly at the sundown colors.

but, i should get back to why im here - im
unexpectedly obsessed with burma, which is very
very close to here. do your research, and you'll find
one of the most truly fucked, horrible situations america isnt really
thinking about. it is not black and white - but it is as close to a black and white good versus evil as you get - which i think is why i
am putting off heading to the middle east, where
its all gray (and the women are hairy). ill be here a
minimium of 3 more months, maybe even 6.


Bernie - i remember joe strummer said:

"whats does punk rock mean to me? punk rock is 'dont
fucking lie to me, because i can see right through all
of your bullshit right down to the heart of the
matter' thats the spirit of punk rock to me."

-and thats what its always meant to me too, and thats
why i initially got involved in politics - punk rock,
and DC punk rock got me thinking about the differences between what i see on TV, the outline of reality that i read in the paper - and what my senses were telling me.

there are some real parallels between the spirit of punk rock and the mindset of the political resistor - this holds true in the opposition in Burma. these people are lied to so consistently and pressed down so low that immediate distrust of any authority comes reflexively. its a "question everything, and re-sist" mindset.


some of the people i met inside burma.. and some of the people i met fled burma when the
government massacred thousands of democracy demonstrators
(mostly students) - including monks and nurses - in
1988, headed to the jungle and trained as an army.
they were young then, teens. they have seen so much
horrible shit, they fight so hard against an extremely violent and always close-by military authority. and the men and women i have met are so modest
and sincere about it. these people who choose to resist even in the face of 7 year prison terms, in the face of rape, in the face of torture, they are inspiring, they are good people, and im trying to figure out
any way i can help them before i move on to Cairo.

the burmese military junta organizes rape campaigns
against their women, has the largest standing army of
children in the world, shut down all the universities and even enstated "TV distance learning" to prevent young people from forming dangerously large groups at university -- has taken their country from the richest in SE asia to
the 5th poorest in the world (they are a little better these days, i think 118 out of 162 according to UNDP, to be fair), uses slave labor to get public work done on a very wide scale, keeps their nobel peace prize winning democratically elected leader behind bars ..

i could go on.

it is .. fucked -

so im trying to find a way to help before i go to the
mid east. i think writing a couple of articles and helping some locals edit would be the best possible way for me to contribute.

yeah
im trying to keep up the good work

you keep up the good work
partying and
boozing and
dry humping strangers

and sometimes
just sometimes
try and let go of those
new york priorities
that you once wrote me about
names, bands
the look and
open bar

there are some other things
real
living, dying things
its so damn important to
to at least occasionally acknowledge
because i hate to say it but
its our fucking responsibility
as yes
as -cringe-
as americans
right now.

you can't see it now
i dont think
i couldn't

you won't
until someone tells you
that while they were in school
they tried to protest against some
low down motherfuckers
who turned their country
from the richest in SE asia
into the 5th poorest in the world
who were stealing their livlihood
and driving them into poverty
and forcing them to break rocks into gravel
to make their goddamn roads
instead of partying,
and boozin
and dry humping strangers

and that while they were out protesting
with even monks and nurses
they were shot down by rednecks
with guns from WWII
individually drowned in the river
and left for dead by the army
along with 1000s of others.

and that they ran to the jungle
with maggots in their wounds
(you see, the nurses were killed)
with their friends
most of whom were 15-28
many of whom died from malaria
and were chased and exterminated
and tried to form an army
and fought back
and were blown into twitching halves
and were captured
and were tortured
and were gang raped
for speaking their minds
for standing up
and you can see where they shocked him
and you cannot forget it
and you can see where they chained him for 6 years
and you cannot forget it
and you can smell the rotting mangos
which were the mainstay of his diet
until the rainy season
which flooded his cell

and hes a lot like you
except now hes shakeing
and hes not in some book
and hes not on TV
and hes not in the god damned paper
and hes not sitting in some radical williamsburg cafe
bitching about:
'these fucking pigs'
'these mindless consumer fuckers'
hes not choosing his 'battle gear'
and puppets
for the next WTO protest
and no, he's not talking about the 'spirit of punk rock' either

no he's quietly, modestly explaining
that he believes in something
and he believed in it
all 7 years.


things get a little clearer
yeah
when you occasionally listen
to your senses.


so pour out some of your next one
(maybe all of you can?)
for some of the burmese homies, yeah?
they are good, funny guys.
maybe in a few weeks,
they can maybe get an antipodean buzz
sucking the floor of their cells.

knowing you, theyll be drinking for months.


i hope you are well
sorry so grim.


luck,
cem