Lifestyle Choice

This photo has been sitting in my queue for a while, as I wondered what words would go best with it here.

Then I had lunch today with some of my fellow news photographers, and we talked about our profession and the many adventures and mishaps we’ve been through over the years. It was a great time, a needed refreshment to a job that while obviously so amazing but also often draining.

My colleague at the Tribune, Danny Chan La, said something that just stuck in my head and I knew I had to remember it. He was talking about different career choices and how he never wanted a job where he had to sit at a desk all day.

“You know,” he said. “What we do isn’t a job. It’s a lifestyle.”

So that’s the quote I’m associating with this photograph of a KFC lunch I had in my car on a busy day last week. Sometimes the life of a photojournalist is a thrilling adventure, and sometimes you’re alone in your car eating crap.

Danny’s right, it is a lifestyle.

This post first appeared here.

US 'victory' against cult leader was 'massacre'

Another view of Iraq Waco, from the Belfast Telegraph:

The cult denied it was involved in the fighting, saying it was a peaceful movement. The incident reportedly began when a procession of 200 pilgrims was on its way, on foot, to celebrate Ashura in Najaf. They came from the Hawatim tribe, which lives between Najaf and Diwaniyah to the south, and arrived in the Zarga area, one mile from Najaf at about 6am on Sunday. Heading the procession was the chief of the tribe, Hajj Sa’ad Sa’ad Nayif al-Hatemi, and his wife driving in their 1982 Super Toyota sedan because they could not walk. When they reached an Iraqi army checkpoint it opened fire, killing Mr Hatemi, his wife and his driver, Jabar Ridha al-Hatemi. The tribe, fully armed because they were travelling at night, then assaulted the checkpoint to avenge their fallen chief.

Members of another tribe called Khaza’il living in Zarga tried to stop the fighting but they themselves came under fire. Meanwhile, the soldiers and police at the checkpoint called up their commanders saying they were under attack from al-Qai’da with advanced weapons. Reinforcements poured into the area and surrounded the Hawatim tribe in the nearby orchards. The tribesmen tried – in vain – to get their attackers to cease fire.

American helicopters then arrived and dropped leaflets saying: “To the terrorists, surrender before we bomb the area.” The tribesmen went on firing and a US helicopter was hit and crashed killing two crewmen. The tribesmen say they do not know if they hit it or if it was brought down by friendly fire. The US aircraft launched an intense aerial bombardment in which 120 tribesmen and local residents were killed by 4am on Monday.

Here.

Invaders' FAQ

Wooster Collective:

Along with hundreds of thousands of people from all over the world, we’ve been obsessed by Space Invader’s work for years. This week, Invader updated his website, and for the first time, posted a Q&A which gives some background and explains what his project is all about. We thought we’d pass it along. In addition to checking out Invaders site here, you should also check out Invader Flickr pool which includes over 3,600 photos.

Here.

Sally Mann Portrait in Which She’s the Star

NYT:

Ms. Mann’s approach to her subject certainly had precedents in art. In the 1920s the photographers Imogen Cunningham and Nell Dorr took nude pictures of children in the wilds as expressions of their own interest in naturalism. But Ms. Mann’s images arrived just as the country was beginning to fall deeper and deeper under the thrall of a new culture of obsessive child-rearing, and she seemed, however voyeuristically, merely to be letting her children be.

But she was not letting them be, or so it is implied in “What Remains: The Life and Work of Sally Mann” on Cinemax this evening. It is one of the most exquisitely intimate portraits not only of an artist’s process, but also of a marriage and a life, to appear on television in recent memory.

Here.

Cult had dug in for massive battle

LA Times:

But the camp itself, amid lush groves of eucalyptus and palm trees, offered a trove of details about the members of Heaven’s Army.

They had plenty of food. Each fighter had his own supply of chocolate and biscuits. They were prepared: A 6-foot dirt berm and an equally deep trench surrounded the 50-acre compound.

They were well organized. Living in at least 30 concrete-block buildings, all the fighters had identification badges. The group published its own books and a newspaper. The members apparently were enamored with their leader, a charismatic man in his 30s named Dhyaa Abdul-Zahra, whose likeness adorned the newspaper.

And they were well armed and ready for battle. High-powered machine guns, antiaircraft rockets, mortars, rocket-propelled grenades and late-model pickup trucks with mounted guns were scattered around the eight farms that make up the compound, about 10 miles north of Najaf.

Here.

Watching

Sometimes you find an amazing photograph at a routine assignment. This one has nothing to do with the story we were working on. I was photographing this girl’s mother, who was being interviewed about home birthing. But I probably spent as much time trying to get this photo of three-year-old Kate Winslow peeking out from behind her mother.

This post first appeared here.

Bush Is Not Above the Law

Op-Ed by James Banford, NYT:

LAST August, a federal judge found that the president of the United States broke the law, committed a serious felony and violated the Constitution. Had the president been an ordinary citizen — someone charged with bank robbery or income tax evasion — the wheels of justice would have immediately begun to turn. The F.B.I. would have conducted an investigation, a United States attorney’s office would have impaneled a grand jury and charges would have been brought.

But under the Bush Justice Department, no F.B.I. agents were ever dispatched to padlock White House files or knock on doors and no federal prosecutors ever opened a case.

Here.

Look up in the sky! It's a bird, It's a plane, No, It's Chuck Connors pretending a log is his kak!

WFMU’s Beware the Blog:

This is probably the funniest comic book related website out there – devoted to proving that, contrary to popular belief, Superman was an a*hole. Featuring sections devoted to unintentionally sexual comic book covers, comic book war propaganda, comic covers featuring apes (it’s ridiculous just how many there are), stupid super powers, and confoundingly bizarre covers.

Here.

The Fam

Last year Laura’s sister moved back east. They have a couple of little kids, and I noticed that the kids were always borrowing their dad’s laptop to watch movies and play games. We had an old computer we weren’t using. It was one of those blue Macs that came out in 1999, but it was running OS X Tiger and was still a great machine for kids.

I gave it to them, with keyboard and monitor, for free. They seemed excited, packed it in their car and drove off for their new home in Wisconsin or Minnesota or somewhere.

After a couple months, I realized they had never said anything about the computer. You know when you do something for someone else, all you’re ever looking for is any kind of comment, right? Not even a thank you, but something like, “Hey, the kids love the computer.” Nothing.

Eight months later we were at Laura’s parents’ house, playing hide and seek in the basement. I opened the door to this dark, unfinished utility room where the water heater and furnace are. And when I saw a blue Mac, keyboard and monitor on the dusty concrete floor, my first thought was, “I didn’t know Laura’s parents had an old computer.”

Then it hit me. Duh. Laura’s sister never even took the computer when they moved. They just dumped it in this dusty utility room and took off!

Last night they were in town visiting, sitting in our front room. We were talking about things and our dog Sophie came in and started going crazy, rubbing up on everyone, etc. Laura said, in jest, to her sister, “Do you guys want to take Sophie with you?”

It was all I could do to not blurt out, “No way. She’ll just end up in the utility room in your mother’s basement!”

GORGOROTH Frontman Calls For More Church Burnings; Police To Investigate

Blabbermouth:

“Black metal was never meant to reach an audience,” Gaahl told The Observer. “It was purely for our own satisfaction. Something entirely self-centered. The shared goal was to become the true Satan; the elite human, basically. The elite are above rules. So people did what they wanted to do. And they had a common enemy which was, of course, Christianity, socialism and everything that democracy stands for, especially this idea that every man is alike and equal to his neighbour. That, of course, is a fake.”

Gaahl’s extremist outlook is undoubtedly influenced by his surroundings. He lives on a farm three hours outside of Bergen, isolated from the mass of humanity. “My family owns three mountains,” he said. ‘There’s not much else around there. Love of nature is a big part of black metal. It’s easy to feel isolated in nature. And solitude and distance from everyone else is very important to us.”

Here.

Review: The Unquiet Grave

The Unquiet Grave, by Steve Hendricks.
[rating:5/5]

This is a book I could not put down. The historic, though mostly unknown events on the Pine Ridge Reservation from the 1970s are so over-the-top that you have a hard time believing it all really happened. And it was only 30 years ago. American Indians (AIM) picked up guns and began to assert their rights. The FBI and other government agencies fought back, eventually all but destroying the American Indian Movement.

Hendricks illuminates these events for the battles they were, as he builds the case against the FBI and the Establishment’s COINTELPRO response to what started out as simple activism. Hendricks makes the case that the FBI’s actions to undermine the American Indian Movement pretty much caused the situation to blow up into horrific violence carried out on all sides. Just like a fearful government undermined Marcus Garvey, Martin Luther King, the Black Panthers, etc. You are left wondering what history would have been like if J. Edgar Hoover hadn’t been such a prick.

As the story goes from shootout to shootout, murder to murder, trial to trial, Hendricks peels layers and layers from each story in a grasp for the truth underneath. Many times, after hearing all the conflicting witness accounts to an event, we are left to wonder what really happened and which side had the worst set of bad guys (it seems that everyone was shady and that there weren’t many good guys on either side of the fight).

You can’t help but get caught up in the gossip, the theories of who killed who, the bumbling of the FBI and the judicial system. And you can’t believe how crazy the whole situation is.

I normally quote a few short passages from books, but here’s one longer excerpt from The Unquiet Grave:

The goons gave chase. When DeSersa noticed them in his rearview mirror, he flattened the accelerator of his Grand Prix until he was driving eighty-five or ninety miles an hour, but his lead nonetheless melted steadily. at an S-curve a mile out of Wanblee, his transmission jammed in fourth gear, and by the time he got it unstalled, the first goon car, a large black sedan, had pulled alongside him.

“Get down!” someone in DeSersa’s car shouted.

An instant later a gun roared from the black sedan. Three or four more shots followed in quick succession, and glass and metal exploded throughout the cabin of the Grand Prix. A cloud of smoke and debris swirled around everything.

“Oh Christ, man, I’m hit!” DeSersa screamed. “I’m hit bad!”

George Bettelyoun, sitting behind DeSersa, told him to stop the car.

“I can’t,” DeSersa said. He was in tears. “I’m hit bad.”

Lester Jack, sitting in the front passenger seat, urged DeSersa not to loser control, and this much DeSersa was able to do for his passengers. He kept the Grand Prix in its lane until it slowed of its own accord and coasted into the roadside ditch.

George Bettelyoun later said, “The black car that shot us up went past us and stopped. I was thinking they were going to come back and start shooting again. The other guys in our car, they got out and started running up the bank on the side of the road. I tried to get Byron out, but he said, ‘I can’t move. My leg-.’ So I looked over the seat, and his leg was almost blew off. There was a hole in there right through the center. So I said, ‘Get out. They’re gonna kill you.’ I knew they weren’t shooting the play around after I seen that hole in his leg. So he crawled across the seat and got out the door, and I tried to help him up that bank. But he couldn’t make it. He said, ‘Go on.’ So I just took off. It was all open country there. There’s no cover whatsoever, just a fence line that the weeds are piled up on.

The Unquiet Grave, by Steve Hendricks.
[rating:5/5]

In a New Joint U.S.-Iraqi Patrol, the Americans Go First

NYT:

When the Iraqi units finally did show up, it was with the air of a class outing, cheering and laughing as the Americans blew locks off doors with shotguns. As the morning wore on and the troops came under fire from all directions, another apparent flaw in this strategy became clear as empty apartments became lairs for gunmen who flitted from window to window and killed at least one American soldier, with a shot to the head.

Whether the gunfire was coming from Sunni or Shiite insurgents or militia fighters or some of the Iraqi soldiers who had disappeared into the Gotham-like cityscape, no one could say.

“Who the hell is shooting at us?” shouted Sgt. First Class Marc Biletski, whose platoon was jammed into a small room off an alley that was being swept by a sniper’s bullets. “Who’s shooting at us? Do we know who they are?”

Here.