By Anonymous (not verified) on August 17, 2012

The newest and most vociferous agitprop from Robert Greenwald’s Brave New Films, Koch Brothers Exposed, takes bazooka-aim at the rightwing billionaire duo, Charles and David Koch. As a political documentary, Koch Brothers Exposed is a sign of the times: inexpensively made (many of the talking-heads interviews are recorded using Skype), digitally disseminated, and set to a high boil from the word go. This is state-of-the-culture, post-Michael Moore media activism for the twenty-first century.

Greenwald lays out the insidious participation of the Brothers Koch in politics on almost every front.

Their only principle on view is greed. Spending tens of thousands of dollars to alter a piece of legislation in ways that’ll net you millions is, after all, just good business. Die-hard libertarians, the Koch Brothers would seem to be content with society only if it were reduced to a dystopian wasteland, which they’d presumably rule over from an impenetrable castle in the clouds.

Koch Industries, the country’s second-largest privately owned corporation (after Cargill), makes most of its money from oil and petrochemicals. Greenwald shines a light on the cancer-decimated community of Crossett, Arkansas, which is downstream from a Koch-owned factory that is dumping steaming ooze. Then Greenwald flashes to David Koch’s own survival from prostate cancer and the $100 million cancer research institute he paid for at MIT.

The Koch Brothers are the embodiment of capitalism. They are like twin Blofelds, scheming to take over America.

To tell his story, Greenwald adopts a screaming-pulp tone. And he gets his films out to the public in unconventional ways.

This is but a short excerpt of Michael Atkinson's review of the Koch Brothers Exposed. To read the article in its entirety, as well as the whole September issue, please subscribe to The Progressive today for only $14.97--that's 75% off the newsstand price—for a year's worth of this great monthly magazine.

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By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.


Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).

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