FREEBOX JIMMY

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what."
[Harper Lee: To Kill a Mockingbird, 1960]

GOOGLEJIMMY
TOM DISPATCH
JIMMY.NET
ELECTRONIC JIMMY
GOOGLEBANGER
"..een boodschapjongen die door kruidenierswinkelbedienden wordt gestuurd een biil te verzamelen.."
[marlon brando in Apocalypse Now]
GOOGLEBANGER ITALIA
GOOGLETOWN
ARTFANCLUB

HONGKONG JIMMY
ART DIVA
ADELINESTREETNEWS

"I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together." [Martin Luther King]

Food Not Bombs
INDYBAY
OUR WORLD IS NOT FOR SALE
CHECK IT OUT!
1. 2 . 3 .
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner
by Randall Jarrell
"From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from the dream of life, I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose. "
. . . .
["A ball turret was a plexiglass sphere set into the belly of a B-17 or B-24 bomber and inhabited by two .50 caliber machine-guns and one man, a short, small man. When this gunner tracked with his machine-guns a fighter attacking his bomber from below, he revolved the turret; hunched upside-down in his little sphere, he looked like the foetus in the womb. The fighters which attacked him were armed with canon firing explosive shells. The hose was a steam hose." (Jarrell's notes)]
"BAD POETS"
GOOGLETOWNGIRL
. . . . . . . . ..
"They make a desert and they call it peace." [TACITUS: Roman historian (c. 55 - 117)]

JIMMYGIZMO
. . . . . . . . . .
GREENJIMMY
BERKELEY ARTIST
ADELINESTREET
ARTBANG
BLUEVOLVO
JIMOOGLE
...Little Viennese Waltz... [FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA]
"In Vienna there are ten girls waiting for death to sob on their shoulders;
there's a forest where the doves fall to pieces every morning,
and their feathers are five thousand windows in a gallery in the museum of frost.

Ay, ay, ay, ay... Take this waltz with its lips pressed together, Take this waltz with the coin in its mouth.
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz with its flavours of cognac and death, and the sea splashing salt on its tail..."

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