Kalle Lasn

Articles by Kalle Lasn Btn Rss Small

Article

Hey G20: Slow Down Fast Money With the Tobin Tax

By focusing on regulation and bonuses, are world leaders missing the point?

Commentary

The New Spirit of Economics

Economics is entering a Nietzschean period of creative destruction … tectonic mindshifts are underway.

Commentary

An Open Letter to the Ecological Economics Movement

Article

A New Kind of Global Marketplace

What if we were to implement this one simple idea: true cost?

Editorial

A Preface to the Student

Editorial

Apocalypto-Nihilism

Three fatal system errors and three mass “aha!” moments.

Editorial

The Logic Freaks of Neoclassical Economics

The old-school practitioners completely missed the meltdown ... is it time to paradigm shift them out of power?

Editorial

Aesthetic Pollution and the Soul of Design

Just as farmers are the keepers of land, we designers are the keepers of mindscape. We must nurture it and care for it and make sure that there will always be wilderness, diversity and freedom there.

Editorial

Revolutionary Spirit

"Young people in the West are pissed off as they stare into an increasingly empty and precarious future ..."

Commentary

Hey President Obama

A closer examination of the White House's new economic recovery team shows that we can expect more of the same.

Editorial

Live Without Dead Time

We need to narrow our focus and shrink our world.

Editorial

The Twin Towers of Civilization

"At the height of the uprising, people marched in Bonn, Rome, London, Tokyo, New York and dozens of other cities around the world; students in universities revolted..."

Editorial

Rage

What will it take to make this generation passionate about change?

Editorial

The Reconquest of Cool

Forty years after corporations hijacked "cool," we need to start generating authentic cool from the bottom up again.

Editorial

When the Center Collapsed

The year 2007 may well be remembered as the year the Earth tipped, but Adbusters is taking a firm hold of the planet in 2008 to try and balance things out.

The Myth Maker

Alan Greenspan's thick weave of lies and deceit may mean the American economy never recovers.

Elliott Abrams, Dual Loyalist and Neocon Extraordinaire

Elliott Abrams, an influential neocon and pro-Israel lobbyist par excellence, has been the principal Middle East adviser on the National Security Council staff throughout most of the Bush administration - all without most Washington observers even noticing.

They Shoot Media Moguls, Don't They?

He stalks, he pounces, he defies all the howls of anguish and protest and drags his prey down. Rupert Murdoch's hostile takeover of The Wall Street Journal dominated the business news for most of this year. And yet despite all that coverage, the real story never came out.

Editorial

Advertising is Brain Damage

As global warming deepens, and a somber, new reality sinks in, people are starting to ask some uncomfortable questions: Why, in this ecological age of ours, do we need a $500-billion industry telling us thousands of times each day to consume more? In the affluent West (where 80 percent of the global ad dollars are spent), don't we already consume enough?

Editorial

We're in the Endgame Now

That pretty well sums up the way most of us in the affluent West feel about global warming: we're ready to make small sacrifices, change our light bulbs, our cars and even our leaders, but our culture – the American way of life – is not negotiable.

All Comments

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July
15, 2008
11:33 pm
Link

when orla was cleaved from her cunt
the two were cast asunder
one was situated in Bensonhurst
and the other was relegated to an altitude of 5000 feet

the head read
at 5000 feet: world systems theory, post colonialism and postmodern grind
rubbing, rubbing, against a splintered chair leg, a crooked sign post in a crack slum
or the thigh of the condescending tenured professor pimping for the system
all lovely mental masturbations of self aggrandizement
the ruminations machinations and discontent
of deconstructed democracy
dear mr. Sklair
my mind is terribly rent
who the hell is the transnational capitalist class
and why should I care
if my nation states are 10 kinds of string-y states
all permeable and stretchy
like my uterine walls
grieving that no baby is happening this month or for the next seventy five till
my very last egg has wobbled out of my ovary
like a renegade Joan of Arc
burnt at the stake for servitude and vigilance
gimme my goddamn cherry flag and let me pray
an allegiance to my founding father myth
with his beard that reeks of nutmeg-cinnamon-spice-pipe tobacco and misogyny
so lovely and forgiving like santa on the night before
gimme my markdown prices cause we’s a one income family
how the hell can I pray
when my kids bellies are growlin’ with fierce rage
and hunger
it makes me want to picket my next door neighbor
for having the in ground pool that I don’t

so I don’t vote
I am shiftless
unmotivated
and not certifiably sure
my voice will be heard

ceptin’ when I yells an’ hang up on the surveyors
who asks me whether or not I is votin’ in dis here election

I need some good green beans
and some butter
and my car insurance too
who’s gonna help me wit’ dat I wonder
mr. black or ms.White
neither I realize
‘cause they ain’t puttin’ my kids thru college
so’s they can be the next power elite smilin’ faces on the scripted pages of standardized print

when orla was cleaved from her cunt
her mind began to wander
and realize that
orgasm ain’t no kind of cure for equality
and the heavens surged with some miserable kind of lassitude called rain
and the desert valley
of painted caves and skies
and raped women
wept

the lord my god has given me the
sight
and god how I love my vacuum cleaner
and my fixed rate mortgage that
blankets my
mind
and keeps me from seeing my transitory image
in a broken mirror of democracy.

and my pussy ached
for the man called god
threatened to put my ass into jail
if I didn’t behave and call the state my church
so’s I don’t vote
and my pussy grieved for the freedom of anarchy
of a non violent, stateless churchless mind blowing sort of anarchy
where women wear their mind on their sleeves and the men bow before them

— Anonymous

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