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When NATO Killed Journalists
Ten years ago, NATO’s planes deliberately bombed Serbia’s main television and radio station. Sixteen media workers died. Tiphaine Dickson reports the barely credible aftermath, and CNN’s smelly role. Wounded Knee is back in the news, with an upcoming trial and new documentary. We launch James Abourezk’s thrilling series, Adventures in Indian Country, on the birth of AIM and his own role as US Senator. ALSO in this new edition of our subscriber-only newsletter, Alexander Cockburn tells the history of Harry Kingman and Stiles Hall, an institution that changed the face of Berkeley and shaped the Sixties. Get your new edition today by subscribing online or calling 1-800-840-3683 Contributions to CounterPunch are tax-deductible. Click here to make a donation. If you find our site useful please: Subscribe Now! CounterPunch books and gear make great presents.
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Today's Stories May 5, 2009 William Blum May 4, 2009 James G. Abourezk Jeff Leys Patrick Cockburn Andy Worthington Jaime Avilés David Swanson Paul Craig Roberts P. Sainath Eugenia Tsao Benjamin Dangl Sami Al-Arian Website of the Day May 1 - 3, 2009 Alexander Cockburn Gary Leupp Peter Linebaugh Jeffrey St. Clair / C. G. Estabrook Patrick Cockburn Mike Whitney Pierre Sprey / Andy Worthington Mairead Maguire Nadia Hijab Diane Farsetta Michael Calderón-Zaks Richard Rhames Russell Mokhiber Ramzy Baroud Rannie Amiri Deb Reich Steven Higgs Brian Cloughley David Michael Green Farzana Versey Jim Goodman Carl Finamore Christopher Brauchli Susie Day David Yearsley Lorenzo Wolff Peter Stone Brown Poets' Basement Dominguez, Orloski and Springate Website of the Weekend April 30, 2009 Ellen Cantarow Dana L. Cloud Paul W. Lovinger / Binoy Kampmark Brian Downing Frank Snepp David Swanson Conn Hallinan Ron Jacobs John Goekler Jasmine L. Tyler / Website of the Day April 29, 2009 Joann Wypijewski Patrick Cockburn Andy Worthington Chris Floyd Dave Lindorff Jeremy Scahill Doug Henwood Michael Hudson Russell Mokhiber Eric Toussaint Website of the Day April 28, 2009 Uri Avnery Jeremy Scahill Dean Baker Michael D. Yates Conn Hallinan John Stauber Tom Barry Harvey Wasserman Jeff Nygaard Frederico Fuentes Website of the Day April 27, 2009 Pam Martens Patrick Cockburn Andrew J. Bacevich Guardian of the Status Quo: Obama's Sins of Omission Mitu Sengupta Franklin Lamb Firmin DeBrabander Dave Lindorff Russell Mokhiber Mike Whitney Mark Weisbrot Rev. José M. Tirado Website of the Day April 24-26, 2009 Alexander Cockburn Marjorie Cohn Andy Worthington Jeremy Scahill Chris Floyd Mike Whitney Anthony DiMaggio Chris Kromm Saul Landau Dave Lindorff Greg Moses Joshua Frank Fred Gardner Manuel Garcia, Jr. David Michael Green Ramzy Baroud Rannie Amiri Laura Carlsen Richard Morse Nikolas Kozloff Kent Peterson Robert Bryce Niranjan Ramakrishnan The Financial Experts Ron Jacobs Richard Rhames Stephen Martin David Yearsley Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend April 23, 2009 Eamonn Fingleton Ray McGovern Michael Ratner Alan Farago Rob Larson Nadia Hijab Fawzia Afzal-Khan Dave Lindorff Helen Redmond Adam Federman Website of the Day April 22, 2009 Chris Floyd Joanne Mariner Vijay Prashad Gareth Porter Dean Baker Peter Morici Winslow T. Wheeler Barucha Calamity Peller Harvey Wasserman Aisha Brown / Teo Ballvé Website of the Day April 21, 2009 Randy Rowland Dave Lindorff Fidel Castro George McGovern Greg Moses Benjamin Dangl Sonia Nettnin Frank Barat Binoy Kampmark John V. Walsh David Macaray Website of the Day April 20, 2009 Mike Whitney Andrea Peacock Henry A. Giroux Liaquat Ali Khan Fred Gardner Stephen Soldz Nadia Hijab Dave Lindorff P. Sainath Nelson P Valdés Mark Engler Belén Fernández Website of the Day April 17-19, 2009 Alexander Cockburn Saul Landau Franklin Lamb Ralph Nader Fred Gardner Dean Baker Rannie Amiri George Wuerthner Dave Lindorff David Swanson Jim Goodman Kathy Sanborn Don Monkerud Manuel Garcia, Jr. David Michael Green Nelson P Valdés Manuel Gomez Dr. Susan Block Ramzy Baroud Christopher Brauchli Stephen Martin Ron Jacobs David Yearsley Lorenzo Wolff Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend April 16, 2009 Mike Whitney Russell Mokhiber Ronald Teska Gareth Porter Paul Fitzgerald / Benjamin Dangl Kevin Pina Robert Bryce George Wuerthner Paul Garon, David Roediger and Kate Khatib The Surreal Life of Franklin Rosemont Website of the Day April 15, 2009 Kathleen and Bill Christison Ray McGovern Robert Sandels Heather Williams / Jack Willoughby David Swanson Paul Craig Roberts Sara Mann Kenneth Couesbouc Binoy Kampmark Kekuni Blaisdell, Lynette Hi'llani Cruz, George Kahumoku Flores, et al.: An Urgent Letter to Obama on the Rights of Native Hawaiians Website of the Day April 14, 2009 Conn Hallinan Mike Whitney Peter Morici Greg Moses Fidel Castro Robert Weissman Rebecca Macaux / Carmelo Ruiz-Marrero Dave Lindorff Walter Brasch Benjamin Day Website of the Day April 13, 2009 Patrick Cockburn Uri Avnery Jeremy Scahill Martha Rosenberg Karl Grossman Nadia Hijab Sam Smith James McEnteer Sean McMahon Namihei Odaira John V. Walsh Website of the Day April 10 / 12, 2009 Alexander Cockburn Chris Floyd Mike Whitney Saul Landau M. Reza Pirbhai Franklin Spinney Rannie Amiri William Blum Matt Vidal Jeff Howison Jeff Leys Dave Lindorff Ramzy Baroud Missy Beattie Fred Gardner Harvey Wasserman Another $50 Billion for Rust Bucket Nukes? Suzan Mazur Bernard Umbrecht David Macaray Janet Kauffman Ron Jacobs Norman Solomon Michael Winship Richard Rhames Wanda Fucha David Yearsley Lorenzo Wolff Ben Sonnenberg Jeffrey St. Clair Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend April 9, 2009 Mike Whitney Patrick Cockburn Stephen Soldz P. Sainath Ellen Cantarow Gareth Porter / Jeremy Scahill Jerry Kroth Binoy Kampmark Fidel Castro Website of the Day April 8, 2009 John Prados Bill Moyers / Winslow T. Wheeler Russell Mokhiber Kathy Sanborn Rev. William E. Alberts James McEnteer Rashomon and the Binghamton Shooter: the Rush to Interpret Jiverly Wong's "Statement" Nadia Hijab Adam Turl Kevin Zeese Website of the Day April 7, 2009 David Price Uri Avnery Chris Floyd Winslow T. Wheeler Defense Cuts: Gates and the System Marjorie Cohn Dean Baker Diana Johnstone Dave Lindorff Martha Rosenberg Evelyn Pringle Website of the Day April 6, 2009 Michael Hudson Andy Worthington Bagram: Guantánamo's Dark Mirror Ray McGovern Deepak Tripathi Mike Whitney Norman Solomon Jonathan Cook Judith Bello Deena Metzger Blackwater in Liberia Dr. M. Kamiar Website of the Day April 3-5, 2009 Alexander Cockburn Kathy Kelly / Peter Morici Kathy Sanborn Andy Worthington Rob Larson Saul Landau Steve Early John Goekler Rannie Amiri Dave Lindorff Lee Ballinger Ron Jacobs David Macaray John Wight Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor Mychal Bell Missy Beattie Reza Fiyouzat Michael Boldin Christopher Brauchli Charles R. Larson Susie Day Stephen Martin Kim Nicolini David Yearsley Phyllis Pollack Poets' Basement Website of the Day
April 2, 2009 Robert Weissman Eric Toussaint / George Bisharat Russell Mokhiber Franklin Lamb Gareth Porter David Macaray Chris Genovali Sam Smith Suzan Mazur Website of the Day
April 1, 2009 Chris Floyd Stanley Heller Mark Brenner, Mischa Gaus and Jane Slaughter Obama's Perilous Plan for Detroit: Restructure the Big 3, But Not With Bankruptcy Jonathan Cook Eric Walberg Richard Morse Don Fitz Laray Polk Belén Fernández Harvey Wasserman Website of the Day March 31, 2009 Uri Avnery Peter Lee Nicholas Dearden Dave Lindorff Joanne Mariner Ron Jacobs Wiliam S. Lind David Michael Green Benjamin Dangl Johnny Barber Dedrick Muhammad Website of the Day March 30, 2009 Michael Hudson Patrick Cockburn Henry A. Giroux Mike Whitney Ralph Nader Paul Craig Roberts Jeremy Scahill Robert Bryce Jonathan Cook Ray McGovern Website of the Day
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May 5, 2009 The Stink of Town, the Gash of the Coal MineThe Education of Rachel CarsonBy DANIEL WOLFF The Rachel Carson that's come down to most Americans -- mostly through biographers, since she didn't discuss her childhood much -- is a girl who grows up on a hilltop in an unspoiled natural world. At the beginning of her classic, "Silent Spring," she describes "a town in the heart of America where all life seemed to live in harmony with its surroundings." We might assume that's her childhood home: Springdale, Pennsylvania. And in this scenario, Carson goes east, becomes a writer and a scientist, and there discovers what she calls "the central problem of our age ... the contamination of man's total environment." But that Rachel Carson is more fable than truth. The fable undercuts the history and hard facts of the environmental movement she helped found. For one thing, Springdale in the beginning of the 20th century was a town on the go. Local real estate agents advertised it as a "Big Money Making Development" about to happen: "Only 38 minutes by train to the heart of Pittsburgh, and just a few minutes to New Kensington." All around, landowners were eager to turn their woods into suburbia. And Rachel's father was one of them. He'd bought the Carsons' 64-acre hilltop in order to divide it into lots and sell it off. It was the sort of wholesale development that Rachel, years later, would call "the destruction of beauty and the suppression of human individuality." And then there was the industrial pollution that was part and parcel of Rachel's growing up. There's a picture of the Carson clan out for a The Franklin Glue Works was one of the largest factories of its kind in the nation. In its big brick buildings, a hundred employees helped boil down animal parts -- ears, tails, hides, bones -- into a gelatinous mass. The resulting stink was the first impression many visitors had of Springdale. Also on the shore was the Heidenkamp Plate Glass Co., where ground silica was melted at some 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit. River water was used as coolant and to carry off wastes. As Rachel passed through elementary school, Springdale's shoreline hosted more and more industries. Soon, it was calling itself "Power City." During World War I, West Penn Power Co. built a giant plant, housing 25,000-kilowatt generators. Not long afterwards, Duquesne Light had erected its own plant to help supply electricity to Pittsburgh: its red and white stack rose directly into the view from Carson's hilltop. It wasn't just Springdale. The same story was being told all up and down the Allegheny Valley. There was the 6,000-employee Pittsburgh Plate Glass in the next town of Creighton. Around the bend was Natrona, the birthplace of America's oil industry. Three miles upriver was the Alcoa aluminum works in New Kensington. Massive coal mines were all around. Almost everywhere Rachel looked, the landscape was being turned inside out: the underground pulled to the surface, transported and burned. By the time the Carsons sat for their family photograph down by the river, a report had already appeared describing the discharges into the Allegheny as "simply amazing." For 30 miles, it went on, there was "not a mussel, not a crawfish, nor a fish able to live." By 1909, the region contained "possibly the greatest variety of pollution of any of the streams in the state." Or, the report might have added, the nation. This adds up to a different portrait of how Rachel Carson learned to love nature: the environmentalist-to-be growing up in the midst of industry and destruction. And it wasn't just the river. At age 15, Rachel published an article in a national magazine describing a May walk and her "discovery" of the "deeper woodland" of a pine forest: "the sort of place that awes you by its majestic silence, interrupted only by the rustling breeze and the distant tinkle of water." From her description, it sounds like she's discovered a stand of old-growth forest, probably Eastern hemlock. If so, it was one of the few remaining pockets in the valley. By this May day in 1921, clear-cut lumbering was so widespread that locals had taken to calling their forest the "Allegheny Brush-patch." In the words of the U.S. Forest Service, wood chemical plants had reduced "once vast forests" to "barren hillsides as far as the eye could see." Still, Rachel's description of the woods' "majestic silence" wasn't a lie, nor was that idyllic photo of the Carsons by the river. Rachel could find a way to get closer to nature, but it was a deliberate act. To discover what she called the "joy, excitement and mystery" of the natural world, she had to avoid the industrial future that Springdale and the nation were building. It involved a careful kind of editing: focusing on the hemlocks, cropping out the power plant stacks. As well as walks and swimming, one of her ways of entering nature was through books. As an adult, in a letter to a friend, Rachel mentions that she grew up on Beatrix Potter. Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter Rabbit first appeared in print five years before she was born; a year later came "The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin"; and "The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck" was published when Rachel was a year old. The stories featured animals dressed up like people, going to the baker's shop and playing in the finely drawn British countryside. Beatrix Potter's books encouraged children to observe nature and suggested there was a hidden, secret drama going on right outside. Rachel also got monthly infusions of nature writing through her mother's subscription to St. Nicholas children magazine. Its editor, Mary Mapes Dodge, solicited works from leading writers of the day. St. Nicholas championed the idea that childhood was a time to "get closer to the heart of nature." This couldn't happen, it argued, by "book study alone" but only through a "direct friendship with the woods and fields." The key word is "friendship." The stories St. Nicholas published tended to treat nature like Beatrix Potter did: the woods were full of little animal friends. Or, going back to an older tradition, they were inhabited by tiny spirits, hiding in the ferns, playing on toadstools. "St. Nicholas League" was a section of the magazine devoted to young writers age 5 to 18. During Rachel's childhood, the league included the childhood work of e.e. cummings, William Faulkner, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Samuel Elliot Morrison. Many followed the magazine's style, describing nature in terms of an invisible spirit world. So, the year after Rachel was born, St. Nicholas carried a piece by a 16-year-old Edna St. Vincent Millay that conjured up a "fairy wind." When Rachel was 4, it published 13-year-old Stephen Vincent Benet's "A Song of the Woods" with a "tricksy sprite" dancing around a fairy ring. And when Rachel was 7, the summer issue included a poem called "The Fairy Steeple" with an illustration of a little winged girl riding a bumblebee. "Up the Fairy Steeple/ The Fairy Ringers climbed,/ And out o'er all the country,/ The Bluebell Music chimed." Mrs. Carson was a former schoolteacher, but especially when Rachel was young, her mother seems to have encouraged this dreamy, non-academic take on the world. Whether Maria Carson thought the Springdale schools didn't measure up, or simply liked having her youngest home, she let Rachel skip school. Often. In the first three months of second grade, Rachel only made it a total of about three weeks. Sometimes she was sick; sometimes there was the chance she might get sick; sometimes it was just more fun to stay home. The absences continued through third and fourth grade. Her alternative education was up on the subdivided hilltop that her father still couldn't sell. She played outside, read, took walks with her mother, avoided the industrial build-up of downtown Springdale -- and wrote little stories. In third grade, she composed a St. Nicholas-style tale called "The Little Brown House," where Mr. and Mrs. Wren search for and finally find a "dear little brown house." In fourth grade, "The Sleeping Rabbit" was her version of Beatrix Potter: Rachel's bunny snoozes besides a copy of Peter Rabbit. As she got older, she not only spent more time in school, but used it to get out of town. She went through Springdale's required eight grades, voluntarily finished ninth and tenth, then commuted to New Kensington to get a high school degree that let her enter college and the larger world beyond. But her alternative, hilltop education stayed with her. In fact, Carson took aspects of this perspective and writing style on into adulthood. Forty-five years after "The Fairy Steeple" appeared in St. Nicholas, when Carson was an acclaimed scientific author, she would write in a book called "Sense of Wonder" that she'd always loved lichens "because they have a quality of fairyland." And she'd describe an unseen insect as "the fairy bell ringer," its call "exactly the sound that should come from a bell held in the hand of the tiniest elf." As an adult author and naturalist, her main subject became the ocean. That might seem an unlikely match given her landlocked childhood. But in this same dreamy way, she'd been studying the subject for years. "Even as a child," Carson wrote, "long before I had ever seen it, I used to imagine what it would look like, and what the surf sounded like." She had read poetry about the ocean, studied photographs, sat on the hill in Springdale writing fiction set on the shore. She hadn't actually experienced the sea, but she'd hardly ever experienced the "majestic silence" of a wilderness, either. She studied them both the same way: extrapolating from what she could see, relying on her sense of wonder, believing in the mystery as much as the science. Even after she finally got there, parts of the ocean remained an unseen and unseeable world. Describing the deep sea floor, for example, she writes: "Mysterious and eerie are the immense areas, especially in the north Pacific, carpeted with a soft, red sediment in which there are no organic remains except sharks' teeth and the ear bones of whales." It's a landscape she hadn't witnessed and never would: an imagined landscape, almost a fairy tale. As Carson defined it, nature offered the human race "inner contentment" and "reserves of strength"; there was "something infinitely healing" about it. She'd come to see it that way not from a childhood amid pure, unspoiled beauty but in contrast to the stink of town, the gash of the coal mine. After a childhood in one of the most industrially polluted regions of the country, as she was dying of breast cancer, Carson asked in her last book, "Silent Spring," "whether any civilization can wage relentless war on life without destroying itself, and without losing the right to be called civilized." It's the beginning of the modern environmental movement. And it's a rhetorical question. She'd learned the answer in Springdale, long ago. As Rachel Carson defined it, nature offered the human race "inner contentment" and "reserves of strength"; there was "something infinitely healing" about it. She'd come to see it that way not from a childhood amid pure, unspoiled beauty but in contrast to the stink of town, the gash of the coal mine. This essay is adapted from Wolff's new book How Lincoln Learned to Read: Twelve Great Americans and the Educations That Made Them. Wolff is on book tour in the Pacific Northwest:
Daniel Wolff lives in Nyack, N.Y. His other books include "4th of July/Asbury Park: A History of the Promised Land." He is a co-producer of the forthcoming Jonathan Demme documentary about New Orleans, "Right to Return." He can be reached at: ziwolff@optonline.net
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