Stephen C. Webster

<span class="floatleft"><img src="http://www.progressive.org/images/staff/stephenwebstermugshot.gif" width="70" ></span>Stephen C. Webster is The Progressive's web editor and director of our online operations. He previously spent five years as senior editor for The Raw Story, helping to grow the publication from 50,000 monthly readers to a 5 million reader powerhouse. His work has been cited in publications like The Washington Post, Rolling Stone, Think Progress, Wired and Time, among others. Before making it in the national press, Webster put in four years with The Lone Star Iconoclast in Crawford, Texas, then moved on to The Dallas Business Journal, The Dallas Morning News, Fort Worth Weekly and Austin Monthly. He joined The Progressive in 2013. Follow him on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/stephencwebster">@StephenCWebster.</a><br>

By Stephen C. Webster on February 04, 2014

Appearing at a House hearing on Tuesday, President Obama's deputy drug czar refused to directly answer a question on whether marijuana is more dangerous and addictive than methamphetamine or cocaine.

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By Stephen C. Webster on February 03, 2014

Fox News quarterback Bill O'Reilly did his best on Sunday to crack President Barack Obama's ironclad defenses, but in a very fitting preview of the game ahead, he came out much like the ill-fated Denver Broncos: soundly thrashed and almost entirely empty handed.

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By Stephen C. Webster on January 31, 2014

Governor Scott Walker's decision to deny federal health care funds for more than 150,000 low-income Wisconsinites will result in up to 671 deaths that could otherwise be prevented, a study released Thursday found.

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Editor's note: This contribution by the late journalist I.F. Stone first appeared in our January 1975 magazine.

On November 20 every year for the last fifteen years, transgender people gather for vigil ceremonies to acknowledge...

Yesterday the U.S. Senate narrowly defeated a bill that would approve construction on the Keystone XL pipeline.

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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