Archive for June, 2014

Anarcho-Historian Lesson #9: Predating Fascism, Settler-Colonial Racialism

Posted: June 24, 2014 in Africans, Afrikaners, animal husbandry, Atlantic Slave Trade, Bacon's Rebellion, blackness, bodily fluids, Boers, Brazil, brutality, capture, chattle slaves, coerced labor, Colombia, colonial cities, colonial violence, colonial-settler states, colonialism, colonies, crime, cruelty, cultural identity, death camps, Dutch West Indian Empire, eighteenth-century, escaped terrorists, Euro-American elites, European colonialism, extermination, false science, Fascism, First British Empire, First French Empire, genocide, ghettos, holocausts, homicidal plantation labor, honorary white status, hunting, injustice, internal enemies, intolerance, Jamaica, jungle, kidnapping, knowledge, liquidation, lower classes, maroon terrorists, maroons, mass murder, murder, nation, Native nations, Nederlands, neo-colonial empire, neo-colonialism, Netherlands, plunder, Portuguese Empire, prison, race, racial castes, racial characteristics, racial hierarchies, racial oppression, racial others, racial terminologies, racialism, racism, rainforests, rape, religious heterodoxy, rotting corpses, Saint-Domingue, separated quarters, settlers, seventeenth-century, silver and gold, slave owners, slavery, slaves, social control, social enemies, South America, Spain, Spanish Empire, state-colonial terrorism, stealing, sugar cane plantations, sugar planters, Suriname, theft, torture, Virginia Plantation, war, white skin privileges, whiteness, worked to death
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Plantation house SurinameTorture of Africans SurinameMaroonslave labor SurinameDutch slave tradersSlaves in Surinamesuriname maroonsColonial genocideSlave dance surinameslave rebellion Suriname

In our lives, often the most insidious and nefarious acts have veiled themselves through pleasant speech and professionalized knowledge.

It was an unbearable summer. But the summer never ended. The date was even hazy. Was it the 1670s, or 80s, or was it just another sinister date during that horrid and unjust seventeenth-century, the 1600s? The area, or land mass was even worse. The general environment represented northern South America, called the Brasil, as was the name of infamy during those brutal days.

The wetness, the humid hells of salted mists, the mosquitos, the larvae; green mush, thick undergrowth of respiratory ill forest, bird chirping mania, bizarre monster fishes, jungle vines that camouflaged themselves as snakes, while the infernal, humongous snakes did vice versa; man-eating plants, African, overworked fetid corpses eaten alive in the turbid watery streams – and here the Dutch planted their colonial vomit representing the grand West Indian Empire.

The Dutch, or the Netherlands’ West Indian Empire had previously invaded the area in the 1630s. The European madmen attacked and murdered even more natives that had lived on the coast, and then constructed the slave-owning, mass-murdering, extermination plantations that held thousands of kidnapped Africans, called the Suriname colony.

The Dutch wanted to outdo the other evil African slave empires: the Portuguese in Brazil, the English in Jamaica, the Spanish in northern Colombia, called Nueva Granada, and the French, in Saint Domingue, now called Haiti. The Dutch would share their prize with the Portuguese in African genocide memoria. During the 1700s, the English and the French Empires would contribute their own arts in the holy mass murder of Africans. Sugar was the white gold back then, and the Europeans needed any available victims to do the homicidal plantation labor. Kidnapped Africans would obviously do.

Historical irony of ironies, some of the Dutch colonial descendants, which had also settled in the southern Cape of Africa during the same seventeenth-century, would later concoct the Apartheid regime of the 1940s. These old ‘Boers,’ mixed with hardcore French ‘Huguenot’ Evangelical Protestants, spoke a dialect of Nederlands called ‘Afrikaner.’ And they called themselves, the ‘white tribe’ of Africa.

While the Dutch worked their African slaves into the watery, pestilent graves throughout the sugar cane death camps, many Africans had literally fled for their lives. They became the ‘maroons,’ or the escaped free people who lived in the jungle, and they even formed their own communities of resistance. Suriname had the most African corpses through overwork, and the worst recurring outbreaks of dangerous, terrorist maroon communities respiring in the jungle bush. The Dutch colonialists tried to exterminate the maroons militarily, and when that didn’t work, they made military alliances with the maroon leaders in recognizing their freedom. In turn, the maroon ‘leaders’ had to deliver any escaped Africans back to the Europeans.

This was the trap. The Europeans wanted the maroons captured and murdered too. They were dangerous examples of the human quest for freedom and dignity, so the maroon communities had no other choices, but resistance. The Dutch needed a special military force to ultimately subdue the demon looking terrorists inside the thick and putrid jungle. In the late 1600s, they had found the perfect terminator. One man of hateful destiny rose to the occasion.

The man of the hour was an African, but there was something different in the breed. He possessed a pretty large build, and he wore a permanent lip and cheek scowl on his nasty face. His head even had the shape of a club used to pummel enemies into comas. He also dressed himself in the impeccable style of colonial Europeans in the bush: leather brown boots, military infantry breeches, blouse shirt, vest, and doubloon jacket. He was proficient in the both the short sabre and in the breach burning musket. He spoke decent Nederlands. This colonial buffoon-monstrosity seized the day.

He gathered together a band of African slaves and freemen, ‘Creole’ mulattos, (mixed raced of Europeans and Africans), mestizo, (mixed race of Euro and Indian), trackers, various ‘racialized’ misfits and some low eating fruit on the ‘white’ or Dutch social totem. The gang entered the haunted labyrinth of forest and hunted down the maroon menace. They worked with great success. They would live in the jungle for months at a time, and many of his paid assassins died their own horrible deaths out there in the humid monstrosities. The rainforest offered no relief for anyone.

This group of state-colonial terrorists murdered whole African maroon families, and they even captured some escaped slaves and poor natives that happened to find their way into the bloodshed. Slave owners were happy to recoup their investments and the maroon hunters could sell the native slaves for some extra capital. This slave hunting leader also dealt cruel and heinous blows to the maroon holdouts. He used every torture imaginable, including the cutting off human skin from muscle tissue and bone, called flaying in those days.

Some time later, the Dutch colonial authorities decided to honor the African murderer and torturer of escaped slave terrorists. In the bug infested, mud hole streets, and rotten wood-hut colonial capital of Suriname, the governor with all the local slave owners, sugar planters and military men presented, stood at informal attention. The Dutch governor presented the honored killer with a metallic necklace, (with a royally engraved seal), of phony silver and gold. He thereby pronounced ‘honorary white status’ on the African slave hunter. This African had truly rose in the ranks and his once ugly facial scowl had transformed into a peculiar mix of power, freedom and hatred. He only wanted to return to the tropical maze and do some more ‘hunting.’

About three hundred years later, an Afro-diaspora, (African from the Americas), intellectual, Aimé Césaire, wrote that the real reason the Euro-American elites hated Adolf Hitler with such fury was due to the fact that Hitler preferred to murder fellow Europeans, rather than the ‘others.’ The others represented Native nations and the kidnapped Africans worked to death in the American death camp plantations.

For hundreds of years, the Europeans murdered millions of Natives and African with full legal impunity. As far as I know, there are still no holocaust museums commemorating all of those millions of deaths. Some of those mass murderers even have public holidays named after them, like Columbus, and others have towns, installations, cities, regions, parks, and statues in their honor, while their faces have stamps on dirty bank notes, such as Cortes, Carson, Pizarro, Jackson, Valdivia, Custer, Coronado, Leon, Mendoza, Cartier and Raleigh.

Predating Fascism there was European Colonialism. Fascism would have never birthed its hate and murder on the European continent without the rancid history of European invasions, social controls and legal crimes all associated with the colonial enterprise.

The Crusades and the Inquisition had previously entered the realm of European history before colonialism, but colonialism took all of those evil foundations, war and intolerance, and they transformed those actions into some horrid thing that was terrifyingly odious.

The colonial project, first instituted in the Americas, used two sinister and distinctive methods of social control. First, the colonial invaders did not just invade, murder and plunder. They stayed and ‘settled’ in the lands. They had exterminated the cultures that had previously lived in those parts of the world. The European colonial powers then populated the scorched lands of liquidation with colonists, or settlers, to live in the native places. At first, the colonial elites treated the lower class European settlers as slaves and as inferiors. But they couldn’t get away with the same crimes as in the European mainland. They had to change the game plan.

In order to increase the slave labor load, they transported kidnapped African slaves into the coerced work pool. The Africans looked different, they did not speak the colonial language, and they came from radically different cultures from another continent across the Atlantic. The wealthy planters always had fears of a united revolution representing Euro-slaves working together with the African slaves. The Euro-elites wanted to avoid this, so they transformed the African into the permanent chattel slave and the internal social enemy of the colonial system. The English elites used this exact method in the Virginia plantation colony during the 1660s-1670s, around the same time of Bacon’s small-farmer Rebellion. Unfortunately, the rulers’ devious plans worked.

The colonial elites had given the lower class European settlers a new cultural identity: whiteness, or white skin privileges. So, the European looking types, whether a wealthy slave planter living in a palace, or a drunken scoundrel with no shoes, home or horse, entered the same social grouping: the whites – versus the internal enemy of the colony – the blacks. Identity defines both what a person is, and what a person is not. This was the second sinister method: the false science of racialism, which still works marvelously – to this very day.

Before the colonial project with its racialism ideology, Europeans had two concepts of race: domestic animal husbandry or breeding, such as races of pigs, cows, dogs and horses, and race in relation to religious heterodoxy and body fluids.

The Spanish Empire had developed this strange concept of race connected to religion. The Spanish royal throne had to cleanse ‘their nation’ of the large populations of Jewish and Moorish, or Muslim, races in the late fifteenth-century, the 1490s. The Spanish elites linked race mixing and religious contact with human fluids, such as spit, flem, mucus, blood, sweat, tears, sexual and fecal excretions, and breast-feeding milk. Those cretinous elites had thought that any physical contact with another religious person’s bodily fluids signified permanent contamination, or damnation. On the mainland, they made the Jews and Muslims live in separate urban quarters, called ‘ghettos’ in Italian.

When the Spanish settled in the Americas, they used the same methods in their newer colonial cities. There were quarters for Spanish whites, and other quarters for indigenous natives ruled by indigenous elites with noble status, and there were also quarters for ‘racial castes,’ or ‘castas,’ which included the lowly, Latinized Africans. Each racial quarter had its own fountains, plazas, local governments, economic guilds, religious brotherhoods and churches. Yet with all this separation, most urban quarters in the Americas had a diverse array of ‘racial characteristics.’ New racial mixing terminologies entered the colonial lexicon, such as ‘mulatos, moriscos, zambos, mestizos, castizos, coyotes and lobos.’

From this cruel division of humanity into religious-racial-skin phenotypes, came the maggot science of racial caste and racial oppression. All of the colonial powers, the English, the French, the Portuguese and the Dutch, copied the Hispano concoction from such vile institutionalized injustice.

Without the work of the colonial-settler masters, the modern concept of race would not have existed. The blueprints for Fascism did not emerge from the desk of the Italian dicator Mussolini during the 1920s. The original drafts and plans of Fascism had built their durable foundations on the lying corpses of millions of natives and Africans. All of this genocide began in the colonized ‘Americas,’ and it has lasted from the 1490s to our present day.

Murdering the racial other is still accepted across the globe. White skin privilege still has its peculiar rewards. The same murderous elites continue to rule unimpeded in their crimes.

Until all those in resistance acknowledge this evil legacy from such a horrifying history, the political-economic elites of Europe and the former European colonies will continue to steal, rape and murder without any hesitation. The list includes North America, the Zio-Nazi Crusader State, or officially called the State of Israel, Latin America, and most of the nations of Africa, Asia and Oceania. Practically every nation of the Earth has suffered from the scars, hate and killing, all done in the name of European colonialism.

Modern colonialism has exterminated cultures and created ingenious methods of control through bogus racial hierarchies; while it has renamed lands and degraded local languages, and still continues to destroy natural ecosystems and recreate phony borders between nations. According to the neo-colonial slave masters in the Amerikan Empire and Europe, Fascism died out in the 1940s. Once again again they stand with the father of lies. Fascism has only transcended from its original colonial American setting.

The continents that first witnessed the Great American Genocide now host its most powerful, bastard fortunate son, the neo-colonial empire of sociopaths located in Washington D.C.

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Gun-Cleaning-Picbore snakerifleshotgun partsrevolver handgunsemi handgun

I once spoke with a gunsmith about the usual issues that people had brought to him concerning their malfunctioning weapons. The owners often went out for a day of shooting and then suddenly, the rifle or pistol jammed on him or her. These particular pistols and rifles were hardly ever used tools, or the owners stored them in some closet, basement or garage structure.

The owners had hoped that the weapons would work, but often the guns seemed to not function at the correct times. The gunsmith told me plainly that the main problem was that the owners had just forgot to clean their rarely used weapons. The gunsmith had to charge them a steep fee for working on the guns – but a good cleaning, after such a long time of non-use, might have avoided those gunsmith visits.

After a fun day of shooting with friends, or plinking at old cans, bottles, metal boxes and broken televisions in the desert, I used to dread the cleaning ritual. I didn’t like the process of having to check my guns, once again, for any live rounds in the chambers, and then the full disassembly process of the weapons. With my rifles, sometimes a little spring piece would jut out of nowhere and fall somewhere on the floor. Looking for that annoying, tiny piece on the floor somewhere – bothered me greatly.

And then it was the straight on cleaning, with the barrel cleaning taking up most of my time. The worst part was the reassembly because I always had trouble fitting the bolt back into the action of the rifle chamber. In the past, I ‘ve had to call friends over my place, so they could help me out with such mundane tasks.

Recently however, I have overcome the dread of cleaning my weapons. Part of this transformation was due to recognizing the natural, human laziness in doing any cleaning at all. For those of us that enjoy cooking, the washing up and drying of cookware, plates, cups and utensils is not that much fun either. But this is a part of living, and cleaning is one of the actions of light that brings us more peace and happiness.

We clean our anuses and ass cheeks after excreting feces, so we material beings also need to clean our tools for whatever purposes after having used them. We can also embrace cleaning as a virtuous art in itself.

Yes, it takes up time and the wiping actions are quite monotonous, but it is simply another stage in our lives. We can do our cleaning well and thereby, keep using our tools, shelters and bodies in good health. Cleaning is an honorable act of accomplishment. It signifies our basic love for ourselves, where we currently reside, and the instruments in our lives that are important to us.

Before I buy a weapon, I always ask the seller to show me how to clean the thing. I have found that weapons cleaning has helped me learn more about that particular weapon. While I clean the different parts, I can see how the firing pin hits the brass or steel cartridge, how the guide rod helps engage the bolt and the round, how the hammer cock moves the trigger, how the slide assembly moves the bolt, or how the trigger aligns with the action chamber.

This is the most important lesson with cleaning the weapon. The more we clean our weapons, the more accustomed we become to disassembly, viewing the different mechanisms in firing, and reassembly. We transform ourselves into the experts of our very own tools for the martial arts. If we were to engage with live firing during a red alert scenario, then we would feel a lot more comfortable in using our chosen guns. I could not imagine the horrible feeling of dread, while using an unknown weapon during hot combat. Cleaning the weapon will kill that dread.

Before cleaning our weapons, we could set up a special section for the cleaning. Gunpowder, lead and grease will spill and fall out, so we need some backup surfaces for the work. I normally lay out some old fabrics on the table. I also put on elastic hand gloves, to avoid the lead residue getting all over my hands.

I make sure the weapon’s safety is on. I lay the weapon horizontal on the fabrics, with the barrel muzzle facing out, towards a wall facing the outside, (not someone else’s apartment or house), and I grab the weapon’s manual user’s guide. I look up disassembly.

I next move the slide back and check the chamber to see if there is possibly a live round inside. In the past, I have discovered live rounds in the chamber before cleaning, so this is an important and necessary step. After double-checking the safety in the on position and making sure the chamber is free of rounds, I disassemble the weapon. I have found that disassembly is a lot quicker than the reassembly.

Once the weapon is completely disassembled, I lay the different parts out on the fabrics, and then I grab the necessary cleaning tools from the gun cleaning kit. The first thing to clean, and the hardest, is the barrel bore since it has the lead and gunpowder residue inside of it. For the barrels, I now use bore snakes, which are long fabrics that you put in the bore of the rifle, while sprinkling a little gun cleaning oil on the fabric. You pull the bore snake line from the barrel muzzle end, (where the bullet exits), for cleaning. I have had to do this method a couple of times for a good clean. I next inspect the barrel from the muzzle end, in the light, to see if the bore is clear of dirty obstructions. For handguns, I use a thin rod with a brush on the end. I put a little oil on the brush and move it back and forth inside the bore.

Around the barrel and receiver chamber, I use a gun cleaning toothbrush with a little gun oil. I try to get rid of the black soot crap. Following this, I use small white pads with a little oil around the area. I also like to use Q-Tips in the hard to reach spots. At the end, I like to pass a clean white pad, and later, clean Q-Tips around the whole barrel and receiver part. When I feel the whole barrel complex is free from most of the soot, I then move to the bolt.

I clean the bolt with the gun cleaning toothbrush and a little oil. Afterwards, I rub the oiled white pads and Q-Tips on it, and especially around the firing pin area to get rid of the real dirty areas. For the revolvers, I clean the cylinder chambers with a round wire brush and gun oil. I gently wipe around the revolver’s ejecting rod.

I also lightly clean the breech, (the back of the gun), hammer-trigger assemblies, slides, and guide rod-coils with a bit of oil, some white pads, and Q-Tip rubbing. The last part I clean is the whole rifle or handgun, including the stock, the forestock, the magazine area, and the trigger guard with a little oil and some white pads. Finally, I wipe down the different parts with a silicone cloth that gives the weapon a nice, overall clean look.

Now comes the hard part – reassembly. For handguns, this part is not that hard, but for rifles, I usually have my issues inserting the bolt properly into the action chamber area. Although, the reassembly is sometimes frustrating, the practice of reassembly makes the gun owner a better handler of the tool. I have gotten faster in my reassembly skills over the years.

Once the rifle and handgun is fully assembled, check to make sure the slide or pump, and the bolt move easily in the action-chamber. I always do a final wipe with the silicon cloth around the whole weapon. I check to make sure that the safety is still on, thereupon, I lock the weapon and store it in a safe place.

During this whole cleaning ritual, I always reexamine the cleaned parts. Once I view the completely cleaned weapon, which is ready for storage, a great feeling washes over me. I have taken care of my precious tool. This is not an act of love for my guns, but an act of love for being a good artist. A good artist cherishes his or her instruments for both creation and destruction. This is part of the magic of life – expertise in handling tools.

 

Jobless-graduate-weirdobitter-postdocsGrad school no shamegraduated paper scamprivate collection librarytraveling

The feelings and thoughts about lost times, years never to recuperate – those mental pains are some of the tortures that regularly accompany the living.

I distinctly remember one of my first years of graduate school. We grad student representatives, dressed in our khaki pants and ugly university t-shirts, had hosted a party for the incoming grad students inside a small and dirty, multi-use student lounge. The grad students had to show their flimsy identification cards in order to enter, while ‘the party’ featured stale bread, Wal-Mart cheese plates and super cheap wine.

All types of grad students entered the premises. I saw haggard women in their sixties just getting degrees for the sake of degrees and loud mouth kids barely out of their undergraduate studies who embarrassingly got drunk like they were at a frat party. There were also lots of rich foreign kids from China, India and other Asian countries, and some really peculiar specimens representing the melancholic diversity of human misery entered at the door.

I spotted a small, balding homeless man with dirty clothes. His physical, facial profile resembled a cross between a hallucinating mental patient and a twisted pigeon that one finds crapping off urban ledges. He did not talk and let off weird noises and grunts as he devoured the cheap cheese and dip snacks. I spotted another forty something male, wearing all black clothes. He was large, fat, had bad acne, a dirty black pony tail, and he smelled funny. The man just sat alone and was talking to himself, nursing his plastic glass of cheap wine, and then he would suddenly break out in a cackle to himself every once in a while.

As I was chatting up some foreign grad student women, a young man in his mid twenties with smeared food on his chin, suddenly interrupted our conversation and began droning his words at us. He wore glasses, had brown hair with white specs in it, and his speaking rhythm was quite slow. I felt terribly sorry for the rude chap even though he interrupted our conversation. After talking at us about some innocuous subject, he then straightaway said his good byes and left us.

I later became a madman too. I continued in graduate school for five more years, torturing my mind relentlessly, until finally receiving my very own, funny doctoral papers.

After receiving that ‘degree,’ I needed three more years of post-graduate school detox in order to mentally break free. It was no coincidence that I moved into Death Studies, Thanatology, towards my last years of doctoral studies.

For years after receiving my PhD, the doctoral useless degree in history – or whatever history or the humanities, I nourished a harsh mental concoction of both betrayal and anger.

I wasted six years of life involved in such a struggle – all to receive the highest degree possible. My doctoral degree has also become the unending curse of my recurring unemployment. The lucky ones escaped early before their torturous exams and thesis dissertations. They became bartenders and a few even made some real money – unlike me.

Nor do I have any friends from my long graduate school period – and I was not the only grad student to experience this. I stayed on because I thought that I needed a doctoral degree in history in order to become a historian. I now know that I was wrong.

This essay is for those historians of heart and soul who want to know the truth in order to become true historians. Historians free from the American graduate school curse.

This essay will explain the mystery in becoming a historian without having to endure the fetid dumpster of graduate school. The free-spirited historian has to go through ten levels or historical exercises, also called ‘the method,’ before reaching the historian peak. Anyone with a love of history, curiosity and basic intelligence can do it.

The first skill embraces simple freedom. For the historian, he or she completely rejects the graduate school scam and the lowlifes that congregate in such spaces, which also includes the professors and administrators. I use the word lowlife because most grad students are not your typical hard-working and talented subset of workers and artists. They are exactly the opposite.

Most graduate pupils are weird, petty, pathetic and extremely annoying. Many grad students are incapable workers and cowardly misfits that cannot hold positions in the real world of labor and suffering. For them, grad school is a safe option where they can do meaningless work on the government’s dollars, or in the case of the private universities, on the scholarship of a rich benefactor with dementia.

They soon ‘work’ with their tenured professor advisers that both love and hate them. The professors are just as cowardly as the grad students, which explains the love and hate dynamic between them both. Meanwhile, the university administrators break into vicious smiles. They are the real ‘brains’ behind this degrading university industrial complex.

Grad teacher pay is terribly low and the university admins just adore them. This is because the administrators can pay slave wages to a bunch of spineless graders that will pour through hundreds of college student papers without one word of complaint. Every succeeding academic year, a new crop of academic screwballs enters the academy for more self-abuse. The supply is endless, and the administrators know this.

The university scammed me brutally, and all I received was a piece of paper giving me the pathetic title of ‘doctor.’ Yes, I am a doctor, but for being so intelligent, I was also quite stupid in sacrificing six good years of my youth for such nonsense.

Imagine having to endure six hard years of such abuse for collecting a simple piece of paper. Very few grad students can successfully charter the American university cesspool, while guarding both their integrity and dignity in the strong box. Most graduate student drifters entered the college halls as sublime losers, and they will leave grad school as academic wackos. This terrible, cruel world of demeaning experiences is no place for the art of history. History has nothing to do with such horrors. Just stay away.

The real, actual and true historian can birth him or herself through reading lots of books and visiting libraries, archives and museum collections. This represents the second level and the Method: a love for reading and writing. This method does not mean the despicable skill of ‘academic writing,’ which is the best sleeping pill around. The method embraces all types of writing: poetry, prose, essays, letters, theater, cinema, song and installation art.

This love of books and writing leads into the third level for a historian: a curiosity about some past culture. The historian might have an interest in the lives of Roman imperial soldiers, or the sexual mores of the French Renaissance. The diversity of the world is completely open to all interested parties.

The historian needs to see what the encyclopedias say about the Roman military or French social customs during the 1500s. With this general information, the historian now has linked terms related to a particular study, such as Roman campaigns, martial poetry, French marriage customs, and French gender relations in the early modern period.

The fourth level is when she or he types the links on scholar.google.com or Academia.edu and can then see some of the recent historical monographs, (books), or articles on the topics. The budding historian can save those linked works, download copies perhaps, and he or she now has a working bibliography of secondary sources, or books and articles on the original topics.

Now one has to read the different articles and books. The historian does not need to read every little thing from each article and each book. Most books are actually compilations of different article chapters.

Like a good historian, read to browse. Look at the chapters, read the introduction, so as to get the general feel of the work. Next, read the chapters that interest one first. Later, look at the index section for page numbers, and the reader can devour the book for the pertinent info from the index themes. Read the conclusion, which often summarizes the introductory themes and perspectives.

The historical reader must look at the source bibliography for each work. One will notice that the authors tend to use certain sources, both secondary and primary, (primary meaning actual historical works from the period that the historians had studied). This is the fifth level and the hardest part is now over.

The struggling historian will have to categorize all of the sources according to perspective, or ‘paradigm,’ (the author’s method in looking at history), and the publishing year. This historical process has the name of historiography. This is the sixth level.

The writer now has an annotated bibliography, meaning a bibliography of articles and books with a few lines next to each source explaining the paradigm and perspective of the author. For example, some authors might focus on institutional changes in the Roman military rather than the social lives of soldiers. Another author might emphasize women’s history when discussing the sexual and marriage relations of the French in the 1500s.

The seventh level is finding the historical works from the period that one is studying. He or she will have already possessed a bibliography list of translated primary works from the anterior readings of secondary sources. Once the historian has read over thirty secondary source history books, primary source manuscripts, and various articles, she or he has thus transformed her/himself into a historian scholar.

The eighth level is the actual traveling around. Talk to the locals, listen to the songs and local radio, walk ancient winding streets, taste and smell the foods and drinks, experience the festivals, feel the airs, gaze at the moon and stars, touch the earth, visit historical ruins, climb the mountains, visit museums, libraries, and the actual historical archives. Ask the archive staff if a reader can consult some of the original sources from a particular historical period.

The historian wants to get into the mindsets of the people he or she is studying and make the historical connections between the people of the past with their contemporaries. Some cultural traits radically changed, while other cultural values only changed slightly. For Roman soldiers, the writer will need to read Latin and visit various parts of Europe; while for French social customs, the reader will need to understand French and visit France, Wallonie Belgium, Luxembourg, the Swiss French Cantons and Quebec.

Read the archives not as a transcriber, or a paid copier-notation taker; but instead, read for the omissions and additions in the ancient documents. Ask one’s self these questions: who were they writing to, why did they write such documents, how did they organize their documents, and what were the general historical contexts surrounding the documents. The good historian reads between the lines. Organize all of the notes together between the archives, primary source copies of ancient manuscripts, and secondary, regular history book sources, both monographs and articles. This is the ninth level.

The tenth and final level has the historical reader writing essays, journalistic articles, or even a book. The historian now possess interesting and marvelous discoveries that birthed from all of the previous historical research. So congratulations, one has steadily become a free and independent historian.

An honest historian doesn’t need to devote one’s whole life to such a pursuit either. He or she can live as a painter-historian, a car mechanic-historian or an attorney-historian. The person must simply begin with the love, curiosity, and ultimately, have the self-discipline to use the method.

The budding historian ought to never fork over ‘tuition money’ in order to receive ‘a cheap, useless and titled paper.’ The revolutionary historian achieves his or her dream through the art of reading, interpreting, visiting, traveling, investigating and writing.

It takes a lot of discipline and a self-effacing love to conquer the art of history. Any fervid lover of history can carry out such feats. The art of history moves with the freedom to read, travel and write – never selling one’s soul to one of the most heinous scams in global monopoly capitalism – the Amerikan university.

Latin America: Hangs the Ghost of the Colonial Casta

Posted: June 3, 2014 in advertising, Afro-Argentines, Amerikan embassy, Argentina, Auracanians, barbaros, begging, boticas, Brazil, brutality, Buenos Aires, campesinos, cargo ships, cash crop plantations, castas, catastrophes, Chaco, Chile, cinema, Colombia, colonial violence, colonialism, colonies, corruption, criminality, cruelty, destruction, dictatorial government, Dirty War against subversives, disappearances, diseases, Dominican Republic, economic elites, elites, epidemics, eugenics, European immigration, Europeans, export crops, extermination, extremes of wealth, forced work schemes, General Roca, golpes de estado, Guatemala, indigenous, indios, institutional murders, jefes, kidnapped Africans, latifundias, Latin America, Latinization, Laws of the Indies, legal precedents, Lima, Mapuches, mass graves, mass murder, megalopolis, mestizos, Mexico, Mexico City, military forces, mines, misery, murder, narcos, native farmers, Native nations, nineteenth-century, obrajes, outbreaks, Pampa, Paraguay, paramilitaries, parasites, Patagonia, police forces, political bosses, political-economic system, poor populations, Portuguese, poverty, prisons, publicity, race, racial apartheid, racialism, republican period, self-hatred, selling off natural resources, skin lightening creams, slave system, slavery, slow genocide, social class, Spanish, state crime, street crime, subjects, tango, telenovelas, the land, urbanization, Uruguay, vendepatrias, Venezuela, War of the Desert, War of the Triple Alliance, whitening
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castapainting mestizocolonial casta paintingPorfirio Diaz pre skin lighteningDictador porfirio-diaz post skin lighteninggenocidios de nativosGeneral Julio RocaPresidente Juan Manuel SantosFOX

I remember arriving as a doctoral student researcher while visiting one of Latin America’s megalopolis capitals. This particular time it was Mexico City, or el DF, as they called it in Mexico. This gran metropolis also had a more notorious name, el ‘Monstruo,’ the Monster. It was, and definitely still is, a Monster, both in actual size and in population count.

Seeing the octopus urbanization from the plane, while landing onto the airport strip, was a shocking sight. The aerial vision portrayed brown-yellow vomit chunks from an ancient Aztec God. The whole mess represented a massive urban polis filled with hodgepodges of grey-black conglomerations, connected by various mini megalopolises of construction sites and twisting roads. The traffic never seemed to stop.

Squatters had previously built ramshackle houses of concrete cinder blocks and alloy metal roofs along the mountains and hills, and surrounding those harsh pits of humanity were a few ominous brown volcanoes in the far distance.

Only three hundred years ago, this city of 150,000 people had a massive blue lake around it. The city possessed as many canals as streets. Residents proudly called Mexico City the Venice of the Americas. But now, Lake Texcoco is almost completely dried up. Throughout the centuries, the city’s colonial ‘authorities’ murdered the surrounding lake beds and canals due to the incessant flooding during the rainy seasons. The dirty grey and black water floods still come in the late summer however. They will never leave.

Latin America’s melancholic past has included some horrifying stories and incidents. The long list comprises state sponsored genocides, impregnable state corruption, military-executioner honchos, killer narcos, paramilitary murderers on the prowl, murderous destruction of natural resources for easy gain, ‘vendepatrias,’ or politicians that sell out their people to the Amerikan Embassy, prison infernos, mass murders of ‘campesinos,’ or farmers.

Such historical accounts can never forget the institutional murders, or disappearances, against journalists and activists, with the terrible poverty, extremes of wealth between the mostly poor population and the few rich people. All across Latin America grows incessant misery, aggressive begging, common criminality, police state cruelty, and street riots with dead bodies lying around – with those infamous ‘golpes de estados,’ or coup d’états. Why has Latin America continually suffered from such diseases and terrible outbreaks? Even the revolutionary Simon Bolivar predicted such catastrophes for the Americas.

The reason for all of this daily terrorism and institutional violence has been due to three hundred years of Iberian colonialism. The worst forms of this colonialist violence moved in three stages: political-economic, legal, and racial. The most heinous actions of its colonial crimes represented its racial codes, or as they stated some three hundred years ago, ‘castas,’ or racial castes.

The Latin colonial systems, representing mostly the Spanish and the Portuguese, managed their ‘colonies’ as privileged economic districts for investment. They had maintained a massive slave worker-forced laborer system on export crop plantations, such as sugar. Slaves also worked inside linen factories, called ‘obrajes’ in Spanish, and in gold and silver mines.

During the colonial period, most native farmers did not fall into these slave systems – but other unfortunates did. This was especially true for many Africans, first kidnapped from their home continent, next brought over on cargo ships, later worked to death as slaves in the Americas.

The colonial powers taxed and heavily legislated against all of their subjects, whether Europeans, natives or African-Americans. These colonial codes had the names of the Laws of the Indies. The colonial authorities even legislated the style of clothes and jewelry wearing depending on social class status. Most colonial subjects ignored those laws, but the system had already set a bad legal precedent.

This violent colonial system tried to keep separated laws, dress codes, neighborhoods, religious confraternities, or brotherhoods, guilds and churches depending on social class and racial status. The Latin colonial authorities of the Americas had created the classical, racist Apartheid system. By the 1600s, the Spanish referred to it as, ‘mandamientos a las castas,’ or rules relegating the racial castes.

During the eighteenth-century, the 1700s, the only legal outlet for a casta person was to become ‘Latinized,’ speaking the language well, dressing well and having a good economic social position. The racial caste person could then receive an officially, royally stamped ‘certificate of whiteness.’

Three hundred years of this racial apartheid still infects the minds of millions of Latin Americans. It was not as bad as the actual US institutional racism-prison industrial complex against African-Americans; but like all forms of racialism, it was mentally and institutionally brutal nonetheless.

This particular colonial caste system created a terminal germ of self-hatred that still eats out the brains of many Latin American people, and especially the political-economic elites. Latin America can never achieve its long desired freedom and dignity as long as the bacillus parasites of self-hating ‘politicos,’ or politicians, gorges the insides of Latin America’s soul.

After spending some months living and researching in Mexico City, I began to notice daily and common annoyances concerning the adverts on the subway platforms, inside the metro cars, and on the billboards around the city. I also spotted similar issues on the ‘telenovelas,’ or Latin American soap operas, and on the stupid gossip and slapstick shows so ubiquitous to Latin American bad television.

Most of the presenters, actors, faces, images were of European looking people. It was impossible to find an indigenous face on any public program or advert. I found this especially strange inside particularly large national capitals, such as Mexico City and Lima. A majority of the people who live in such capitals are mestizo, a colonial caste denomination representing a mixture of an indigenous native and a European. Were there any actual mestizo faces on advertising and television?

I also noticed this problem in the cinema. It was still hard to find mestizo and indigenous faces on the screens. Visiting the many ‘boticas,’ or pharmacies in the cities, I perceived that one of the greatest scam businesses in the continent has represented the selling of skin lightening creams.

Dictator-murderers in Latin American history, such as Porfirio Diaz and Rafael Trujillo were regular users of such salves. Other Latin American corrupt bosses and dictators also seemed to have dipped into the magical Euro face ointments, such as Juan Manual Santos of Columbia and Vicente Fox of Mexico.

During the late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century, eugenics became the rage of European and North American political-economic elites. Latin America also had its eugenics supporters during the same period. Why do the southern cone countries of southern Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay and Chile have so many European looking citizens walking around its loud and dirty streets?

During the late nineteenth-century, the dictatorial governments of those countries had opened up ‘their lands’ to a massive European immigration scheme. They desperately wanted to whiten their countries from the shame of their indigenous and Afro-Latino communities. These ‘jefes,’ or state bosses, had hoped that a legion of Nordic Vikings and Germanic rune masters would settle ‘their continent’ and save the lazy, racially putrid Latin America from itself. Argentina received the bulk of this desired group.

Unfortunately for the Latino Euro-fakers, the majority of the immigrants were more from the Southern and Eastern European varieties, and there were also Arabs, Asians, and even Ashkenazi Jews that mixed into the newer white crowd. The Argentine generals would finish off some of the more dangerous elements of this mixed group during their genocide of the 1970s, called the Dirty War against Subversives.

Argentina, the whitest country in Latin America, (actually Uruguay and Chile together), has had its recent, ‘republican’ history replete with genocides. The corrupt kingpins in power first moved their racial genocide against the large Afro-Argentine community. At one time, they were about 30% of the population like Venezuela today. The Argentine Buenos Aires junta, which ran the ‘National Army,’ (under President Mitre), forced all Afro-Argentines to fight in the numerous wars of Argentina.

The most brutal war in Modern Latin American history was the War of the Triple Alliance in the middle part of the 1800s: Argentina, Imperial Brazil and Uruguay against Paraguay. Thousands of Afro-Argentinian men lost their lives for such a bogus war, and the general thugs simply buried the Afro-soldiers in mass graves located around central Buenos Aires. The historical grave sites don’t exist anymore.

The whitest countries of Latin American had almost exterminated the entire male population of the great Guarani-Mestizo Republic of Paraguay. Paraguay has still not recovered to this present day. This system of slow genocide continued well into the infamous War of the Desert in the latter part of the nineteenth-century.

The Afro-Argentine survivors would also die from recurrent outbreaks of cholera and yellow fever epidemics in their rat infested neighborhoods. The governments did nothing to help such poor people. The politicians felt good about the results. Now, only a few Afro-Argentines have survived, and their only cultural expressions live in the tango dance culture, and in Uruguayan Carnival.

The most heinous Argentinian genocide was the War of the Desert. General Julio Roca with a large Afro-Argentine and mestizo gaucho, or cowboy army, marched on the warpath to finally exterminate the recalcitrant barbarian ‘indios,’ or natives, in the Patagonia south, the Pampa central region, and the Gran Chaco north. In the south he tried to exterminate the great warrior nation of the Araucanians, or the Mapuches. The Mapuches have been continually fighting against colonialism and neocolonialism until this very day – mostly against the white Chilean crooks in Santiago.

Unfortunately, these state thugs had Winchester rifles, which worked marvelously in exterminating men, women and children. They successfully murdered tens of thousands of natives. There were also those European transplanted epidemics, which had already decimated the native nations. The actual killing figure is still unknown. General Roca had his name immortalized with pigeon shit statues around the country and his ugly mug on almost worthless bank notes.

As long as this sordid history retains the covers of pathetic lies and deadly omissions, then Latin America will continue to suffer the farce and absurdity of the bad life and the bad death. Argentina is not the only Latin American nation guilty of racialism and genocide. For example, Guatemala tried to do a similar racial liquidation program against the Mayan nation during the 1980s, further supported by the US government. Mexico, the Dominican Republic, Chile, Uruguay, Brazil, Colombia and Venezuela also tried their hands at such evil, racially incited, murderous practices.

Latin America will probably never be able to redeem its mind and soul from such an abusive history. But the true roots and holy souls of Latin America do not exist in London, Paris, Berlin or even in Miami, they continue to breathe inside the sacred earth, the medicinal plants, the powerful legends, the ancient gods, and those sacred native languages. Only in tortured Paraguay is the native language of Guarani one of its national tongues. And only a return to these sacrosanct cultures can ultimately transform the continent.