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Indy Media

Books and Other Printed Matter
“Bush Knew”


Nero Fiddled While Rome Burned #5 & #6
Editor: Jacob David

“During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.”
— Eric Blair

Why would I bury the story of the century in the back of the magazine as a mere zine review? Well, this one is a doozy. This zine goes “all-out” in exposing the Bush Administration, and there’s no room in here for cheesy interviews with bands you’ve never heard of, or uninspiring microscopic record reviews. This is all about facts and evidence that have been swept under the mass media rug concerning the crimes of Sept. 11, 2001.
September 11, 2001, was a historic day, and as such, has been compared to other famous days. In late 2001, many pro-war cheerleaders compared the events of 9/11 to Pearl Harbor, the “surprise” attack by the Japanese on U.S. warships stationed in Hawai’i in December 1941, and an episode which ushered in war between America and the Axis.
Nero Fiddled While Rome Burned offers a wholly different perspective. Editor Jacob David contends that on closer examination, observers will find a better parallel between the “9/11 attacks” that struck New York and the Pentagon some months after George W. Bush became President, and the “Reichstag Fire” that burned down the German parliament in 1933, a month after Adolf Hitler had assumed elected office.
Dr. Jerry Russell summed up the events of the “Reichstag Fire,” a spectacular national crisis in Germany that newly-installed Chancellor Hitler used to full effect to enhance his own power: “The German Parliament (Reichstag) burns down. A dazed Dutch Communist named Marinus van der Lubbe is [accused]. Apparently, by and large, the German public believed Hitler was telling the truth: in the general election a few days later, the National Socialists cemented their hold over the German government, and the Enabling Act was soon passed giving Hitler a dictator’s powers. Communist leaders stood trial, accused of participating in a vast conspiracy to destroy the Reichstag — and by extension, the German people themselves.”
Nero Fiddled contends that the Bush Administration’s response to 9/11 bears a strong resemblance to Hitler’s response to the Fire. While Hitler sought out Communist terrorists to gain total control over the reins of power, George Bush has expanded government control and spying powers by fighting “Islamic terrorists.” A month after the Fire, the Nazis pushed through the “Law for Terminating the Suffering of the People and the Nation” (known to historians as “The Enabling Act”) to give the Führer his due powers to protect the people and rule by decree, while President Bush’s Republicans twisted arms to pass the USA PATRIOT Act (‘Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism’) within weeks of 9/11, giving the government “new tools” to fight a secret war against terrorism.
Though it is widely believed nowadays, it has never been proven that the Nazis actually set the Reichstag Fire that unleashed the political crisis allowing Hitler to concentrate power. And although Rupert Murdoch’s New York Post (normally a Republican ally) had the audacity to print “BUSH KNEW” as a cover story in May 2002, it certainly has not been proven, four years after the event, that George Bush had any direct hand in orchestrating the spectacular events of 9/11. It has been shown, however, that the official story of the “9/11 Attacks,” as put forth by the 9/11 Commission (a committee partially appointed by Bush), is highly questionable.
Write to Jacob David today, and he’ll send you his review of the must-see documentary 911 – In Plane Site. The film, produced by Dave Von Kleist and William Lewis, uses photos, interviews, and live television footage (shown only once, and then never again, on T.V. news stations CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, and CBS) to examine the events of the day in a new light. The most convincing case in the movie is probably Von Kleist’s probe into whether a huge 757 filled with jet fuel could have made the sort of damage found at the Pentagon after the attack.
Video footage and photographs taken immediately after the Pentagon was struck at about 9:40 a.m., show no sizable plane wreckage to be seen (engines, wings, a tail fin, luggage, people) and make it hard to believe that a 757 could have caused the damage, unless the plane and all the passengers somehow “disintegrated” within the Pentagon structure. Additionally, photos taken when the first firemen arrived on the scene show that the roof of the Pentagon did not collapse with the initial impact. The roof collapse occurred about twenty minutes later, and the damage immediately done to the Pentagon at about 9:40 a.m. appears to be a circular hole too small for a 757 jetliner to fit through.
Jacob David also provides addresses and contact info for concerned zine readers from around the world, and this could be helpful for zinemasters trying to get the word out. Send Jacob three stamps and you’ll get a copy of your very own.

PO Box 3050, Eureka, CA 95502

Warning #1 & #2
Editor: Frank

To see the world in black and white, you must read Warning fanzine. Warning zine is composed of recycled paper doused in soy or vegetable-based ink. Since everything is either pure black or no ink at all, at first glance the text and photos appear to suffer the effects of previous generations of xeroxed ancestors, prophets’ words handed down through the ages till no gray remained. But look closer and you will see this full contrast is intentional, as is the thick, quality paper and professional stapled binding.
In the music department, this zine focuses on the crustiest edges of the worldwide punk rock scene. The editor looks back at the origins of the scene, and provides interviews with newer bands. There is Contatto from Italy 2005, and Wretched from Italy 1985. There is Hellshock who just put out the great Warlord EP, and then an interesting look at Discharge’s controversial 1987 U.S. tour, where they shocked audiences with their new metal sound and refused to play any early classics.
Warning zine also gets into its own radical truthtelling about “America’s Reichstag Fire,” drawing parallels between the planings of 2001, and the fire of 1933. Each event served the government in power as “an opportunity to introduce their agenda of constant centralization of power through the technique of problem-reaction-solution.” The editor also makes a list of some of the internationalist groups that have supported and guided the Bush Administration’s war policies since 9/11, groups like the Council on Foreign Relations, the Bilderberg Group, and the Club of Rome, among others.
After the September 11 attacks, to show people that this war was going to last a long time, President Bush compared his newly christened “War on Terror” to World War II, which last four years once the U.S.A. officially got involved. Four years later, the President is now comparing the War on Terror to the “Cold War” which lasted more than forty years.
On New Year’s Day 2045, with the War on Terror now lasting even longer than the Cold War, will President-elect George P. Bush assure a war-weary, peace-loving America that the neverending, liberty-devouring, total control, photo-enforced War on Terror is actually most like the Hundred Years War? Would this buy the politicians a little more time?

PO Box 40113, Portand, OR 97240-0113

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The day My Father Died

The Day My Father Died

by Reviewer Rob

My dad died 25 years ago this month. It was early Saturday morning on December 6th, 1980, when my mom and her friend who was staying with us to help through this time woke me up to get me out of bed and tell me. He was in the VA Hospital at UCSD and had been expected to go at any time, but still you never really expect something like that when you’re 16 years old. Or at least you don’t know what to expect. Even so I’d felt ready for his passing for a while. Now, after a lifetime of chronic alcoholism that had wrecked his health, other illnesses and occurrences had culminated in a final year of cancer treatments that finished him off.

It was 3 a.m. but I stayed up and hugged my mom as she sobbed, said nothing really, what was there to say?, and then went back to bed. The day earlier my mom had told me that I should make a trip over to the hospital and see him since it wouldn’t be very long now. I drove out there and went up to the cancer ward or where they had him and asked for his room. My mom was pretty much seizing up emotionally by this time as she was faced with the prospect of losing my dad, and I’d been opting to go to see him alone since it was too hard to deal with mom. I was their only child, and the whole thing was always a lot to bear. Mom would just get so angry at everything all the time.

One time in that final year after the cancer diagnosis I was taking my dad’s car to the beach early in the morning before sunrise, going surfing at Cardiff or Windansea with a couple of friends. I was on Black Mountain Road, coming from Rancho Panasquitos where we lived, when I took a corner wrong and crashed, rolling three and a half times down a steep embankment off of a sharp turn on what was the dirt road in 1980. Even though he was in treatment dad still worked as a bar manager but that was a day my mom didn’t have time scheduled at her real estate office, so I asked to borrow his car since it had more room for boards, and he would take hers. Amazingly none of us in the car were really injured. Although the car rolled three times even our surfboards were alright. After the crash we hitchhiked a ride back to one of our houses from a passing truck and when we got to my buddy’s place and calls were immediately made one of our girlfriends called my house and told my mom what had happened. Mom of course freaked out and called dad, who was probably opening one of the bars he managed in San Diego, either Bernie’s Hof Brau downtown, The Anchor Inn in Old Town, or The Iron Maiden in Clairemont Mesa. He called to find me at my friend’s house. I felt so ashamed; I had been so careless and crashed his car, and here he had cancer. My buddy looked pale when he said it was my dad and handed me the phone. I knew he’d be pissed but to my surprise he only seemed to want to hear that I was OK. When I told him yes, but dad the car is wrecked, he said, “I’m just glad you’re OK.”

Now while I performed this duty and drove to the hospital I wished there were some words I could utter to make the pain go away and make things better for him.

By this time my father had had a stroke while in treatment and was wasted away and incoherent. I guess they didn’t believe in morphine for dying men at the VA or something because he was clearly suffering terribly. I tried to give him a drink of water from the cup with a straw on the table next to his bed, but he just looked up and at me sideways, his big blue eye registering me for just a moment, and then shook his head away from the water I tried to offer. I told him I loved him and I said my goodbyes.

I knew my mom’s eyes were hazel, and mine had turned out green, but I remember being startled that I never really saw before how blue my dad’s eyes were until that moment.

Afterward I went to the elevator and out the front doors of the VA, past a row of American flags and out to the parking lot. Trying to collect my thoughts or get my mind off of all this I drove to the beach to go surfing. The day was grey and cold, and the waves weren’t any good. Even so I surfed Black’s Beach that night until the sun set.

A couple of days later it rained. That night, when the announcement came on the radio that John Lennon had been shot, it was early evening and I was driving on Mira Mesa Boulevard. Right after the announcement finished the headlights to my Datsun pickup went out, something they did due to recurring faulty wiring in that truck. It didn’t affect the radio so as I searched in and around the glove compartment for my flashlight and some spare fuses I listened to a Beatles or Lennon song. I noticed how cold the night was, and how dark it was out there. I was 16 years old and all I could look for was some better days ahead but what was foremost in my mind at that moment was, “Fuck – first my dad dies and leaves me to deal with my neurotic mother, and now this. This sucks.”

Every year when the anniversary of John Lennon’s sudden murder rolls around and all the feelings of celebrity nostalgia come out in the media, they always get mingled for me with a more real sense of loss, one that makes the grief of others and the ways they choose to deal with it a bit easier for me to understand.

Today I don’t know if I can say that time has really lessened the grief of my dad’s passing, but it has made me realize what was lost that much more. RR

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Happy Thanksgiving from REVIEWER magazine

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Photo by Reviewer Rob.

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Issue 31

Next issue is on the street with over 10,000 free copies by December 15th.