Josh Healey

By Contributor on September 14, 2013

For any true Washington football fan, last week's season opener was a disaster. Philadelphia delivered an athletic beatdown on my beloved burgundy-and-gold the likes of which we haven't seen since the Gus Frerotte era. Quarterback (and possible messiah) Robert Griffin III was reduced to a shell of his former self -- a rocket ship turned into a paper airplane.

Worst of all, though, was that my glorious hometown team continued to call itself the most racist name in all of sports.

The Redskins.

Still? For real???

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By Contributor on July 20, 2013

When I walked into the movie theater, I still wasn't sure it was a good idea. Just days after the outrageous acquittal of George Zimmerman, and the subsequent, ever-escalating protests here in Oakland, I didn't know if I could handle watching the Bay Area's version of Trayvon Martin killed on screen. Again.

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By Anonymous (not verified) on December 04, 2012

Whoever said sports and politics don't mix should come spend a Sunday in the Bay Area. Meet me here near the Golden Gate Bridge, and I'll introduce you to the one and only Left Wing Fútbol Club -- where solidarity trumps competition, where imperialism is completely offsides, and where no matter how many goals are made, the score is always 2-2.

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Capitalism is the enemy, and the ideology of growth and dominion over the Earth.

 

South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham recently joined many of his Republican colleagues, declaring that...

John Kerry used two weak arguments to justify President Obama’s war-making.

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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