This article appeared in the SF Beyond Chron on-line magazine on Friday (4/17/09) the day before the Oakland concert was cancelled. http://www.beyondchron.org/news/index.php?itemid=6821#more

Friday, August 22, 2008 from my blog: myspace/wallieworld.com

The Olympics opening night extravaganza had me thinking of Mussolini. You know what they say about him: he was a killer and a torturer and a horrible dictator, but at least he made the trains run on time. That's the way I felt about China as I watched the spectacular show they put on for the world August 8.

In the days leading up to the 'big event' I had thought seriously of not watching it. As a way of staging my own one-woman protest, I was set to boycott the Olympics altogether. But my curiosity got the best of me, and I tuned in anyway that first Friday night.

My husband, who was also launching his own one-man boycott of the festivities in China, happened to walk by as I was watching. In a few moments, he too was hooked. It was a visual and visceral feast for the senses: the choreography of the two-thousand and eight drummers; the nimble dancers who defied gravity as they pranced around the huge model of the earth. The visual effects were splattered across the huge Bird's Nest coliseum as if it were a single canvas. The lights, the fireworks, the human artistry of it all, created a work of art on a scale this world had not heretofore known.

That was what my husband and I both thought of it. It was on a scale that was larger than life. A scale that seemed almost as if it were not being put on by mere humans, but produced by alien beings from another planet who are bigger and more technically-advanced than our species. In a word, the show was Impressive.

In the days following that first night of fanfare, the stories from "behind the scenes" began to surface. There was the little girl who was deemed 'not pretty enough' to be seen on camera so she sang off stage while a 'cuter girl' did pantomime. And there were people who complained that they been forced out of downtown Beijing when the bulldozers and bureaucrats had arrived many months earlier to start the Olympic planning. But that story was quickly mentioned and gone.

Then I remembered the reason I had planned on boycotting the Olympic coverage in the first place. It's the Mussolini factor. You see, I am an Immigration Attorney and I have represented many people from China. I have heard horrible stories of torture and abuse taking place in that country. So I already knew, that despite all the beauty that the Chinese government put on display for the world at the opening ceremonies, that same single-mindedness, focus and dedication to purpose have also been aimed at less pleasant creations. They are busy creating other Chinese products like new methods of torture (as if creating the infamous water torture wasn't enough!)

We hear sometimes about China's "one child" policy, but there is not as much information around about how that policy is enforced. Not many Americans have heard about the mandatory physicals and surprise sonograms that female workers have been subjected to. But I have. I had a client once, a woman who was very credible. As she sat safely in my Washington, DC office, she sobbed and hung her head as she gave me her testimony. She told of how she and the other women who worked at a Chinese factory in Zheijang Province were subjected to random sonograms. It was during one of these exams that it was discovered that my client was pregnant. Since she already had one daughter, her condition was quickly pointed out to her supervisors. At first the managers talked to her and told her she couldn't afford to pay the extra tax that a second child required. As she resisted their urging to terminate the pregnancy, their demands got more intense. Finally, one day she was taken to a medical facility and given an abortion against her will.

This rigid Will of some people in China—they are the ones that make up the iron fist of dictatorship. And it was that iron fist that steered the hands that put on the Olympic Opening Spectacular. The same fist which has forced women to have abortions against their Will, was the same hand that put on that beautiful spectacle of light for the world to marvel at.

When I first heard the story of the little girl who sang off-camera while a "cuter" face was put out in the spotlight for the world to behold, I was reminded of another Chinese family I represented back in the late 1990s. They had two gorgeous teenage daughters who were twins. In the course of preparing their case, I was given some photos of the twins when they were much younger, still living back in a western Chinese province. The photos appeared to be of two boys. The children's heads were shaven and they were dressed in shirts and pants which made them look even more boyish. The parents told me that where they were from an area where women and girls were treated very harshly. The couple had purposely made their twin girls look like boys in a hope that wouldn't be kidnapped or raped. They said they were already "looked upon with disfavor" because they had twins. By having twins, an event looked on with great joy in many cultures—the poor couple had violated the one-child mandate, without even intending to. So they lived quietly, trying not to stand out. They did what they could to make their children 'blend into the crowd.'

China's occupation of Tibet and its subjugation of the Tibetan people have rightly gotten media attention. The world needs to stand up for Tibet. And we need to recognize that China's attitude towards Tibet is a continuation of its policies against other ethnic minorities who reside inside its borders.

In my office I have a picture which one of my Chinese clients gave me. It's a pastoral scene of a beautiful garden filled with flowers. In the distance are rolling hills which seem to go on forever. When my client, a young man of 23, gave me this picture, he told me a touching story. He said that when he was imprisoned in China he was subjected to physical torture. In order to endure the pain, he tried to picture a beautiful place. This painting, which he found some years later in a DC shop, represented to him the place he had gone to in his mind. As his Chinese guards inserted long wires up the shaft of his penis, he would imagine the garden. He said that they used that torture against him not only because it was painful, but it was also intended to prevent him from fathering children. He too was a member of an ethnic minority and it is a common theme of the Chinese government to control the reproduction right of all its citizens, and to take a special interest in the reproduction of disfavored, ethnic minorities.

China is an enigma. It is a country and a culture which is over 5000 years old. It is a country of grandeur and beauty. It is a country of contradictions. Watching the Olympic opening ceremony, I was made even more aware of all this.

As the games come to an end, I have come to the conclusion that members of the Chinese government are probably quite happy with themselves. China wants to display its power to the rest of the world. It has done that. It has dazzled the world. China wants to be recognized as a mighty nation of over a BILLION people. And, it wants to be seen as a nation of ONE. One voice, that is. The image of those 2008 synchronized drummers is still playing in my head. That is the China they want us to see. But I know there is more to China than just those who were deemed worthy to perform in that orchestrated event two weeks ago. Because, despite all the pageantry and pyrotechnics and breath-taking performances the world witnessed that night, I know that offstage there are people who are marching to the beat of a different drummer. And they want to be heard.

I suppose someone, somewhere, is now saying, "yes the Chinese are persecuting the people of Tibet and torturing political prisoners, but, hey, they sure do know how to put on a great show." Mussolini would be proud.

I'm having a little yard sale. It's hard to part with my Morrissey treasures. here's some of my stuff on ebay:

http://search.ebay.com/_W0QQsassZmasonmall

seller: masonmall

Morrissey often says what I want to say. He gives words to my thoughts--thoughts that would otherwise go unspoken, yet deeply felt. Fellow blogger, M-in-Oz, recently inspired me to start reading certain books again: books that were sitting collecting dust on my shelves. She reminded me what it is to work from inspiration, not just motivation.

Here are some of my favorite quotes and sentiments from Morrissey. I have to dig into my Morrissey memorabilia to get the exact words he said. Moz' sentiments about certain aspects of the Human Condition are spot-on. I'll try to find the exact quotes and post them later. But please, dear Mozzers, feel free to drop me a comment with your story of how Morrissey affects your life.

#1: Early in his career, Morrissey described his feelings when watching Sandie Shaw sing. He said watching her was like seeing a physical representation of one of his own previous incarnations. He said he felt tingley watching Sandie Shaw perform. I loved reading this interview with him, where he discussed this topic. It can be exihilerating to see someone who you identify with having success or performing music. It is like the previous incarnation inside you can be given "closure" in vicariously living out aspirations that went unfufilled in the previous lifetime. That is part of Morrissey's appeal for me.

#2: I read another interview where Morrissey was asked about his relationship with his mother. Being a self-proclaimed "Momma's boy" Morrissey was asked if his mother missed him now that he was living far away from his native Manchester. He answered something to the effect of: "my mum has 3 cats. They should be keeping her busy and quite satisfied..." I know that feeling. I felt the same way when I moved to the big city and left my mom. I was comforted to know that she had cats which would be the object of her affection. They were like little ambassadors for me. I must go get the exact quote because I don't want to put the wrong words in Morrissey's mouth--that delicious mouth. But this is how I remember his answer. The feeling of love for his mother that was evident in his description of her.

#3: see lyrics to Meat is Murder. My sentiments exactly!!!

#4: The etheral nature of Morrissey's writing. He conjures ghosts, reflects from his death bed, and alludes to reinacarnation in I will meet you in far off places.

I watched a film about Kurt Cobain Saturday night. He said that he felt that he had been dropped off on earth as a baby. He said he felt like an alien baby. And he would meet other people and he could tell when some of them were fellow alien babies. I think Morrissey represents what it is to have been an alien baby in your last incarnation. One thing about us reincarnated aliens living here on planet earth: we have lived on a plane where the suffering sounds of animals were no longer heard. love, Art Dodger aka Morrissey fan

Mildred Loving has died. She and her husband were arrested in the 1960s at their Virginia home for sleeping together. She was black, he was white. In the 1960s interracial marriage was illegal in Virginia. This brave couple took their case all the way to the US Supreme Court, and won. I owe them a personal debt of gratitude, as I directly benefited from their heroic fight. I have an interracial marriage. My husband and I were married in Virginia in 1999.

When I listen to Morrissey sing "I am hated for Loving" I always think of the Loving case. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Loving for what you did for our country.

Obit: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/05/05/AR2008050502439_pf.html

when I heard Paolo Nutini's song "New Shoes" I had to share it with my husband right away. He has a thing for new shoes. His philosophy in life is 'put on some new shoes and everything's gonna be alright.'

When he heard the song he immediately liked it. When he asked me who it was, I had to admit that I knew nothing about the singer. Meko said, "with a voice like that, he's gotta be a brown skinned man. and he has the wisdom of age in his voice." This was offered as his highest form of praise. A profound compliment of the highest order.

So later on I go to the internet and look up Mr. Nutini. Turns out he's a 20 year old Scotsman. and the first photo I see on his website is one of him singing with Mick Jagger; Keith Richard is in the background. I couldn't believe it. These men are Rock Royalty to my man Meko. So I emailed him the photo. And last night we had a good laugh about it. So much for Meko's audio-racial-anthropological skills. What can I say? Paolo Nutini has soul.

I totally agree with Morrissey's decision not to tour in Canada, in protest of the seal massacre. And I totally support his intentions to tour in the middle east and perform in Iran and Israel. I know some fans feel that the above sentiments are contradictory. But I don't see it that way.

I've been involved in international human and animal rights campaigns long enough to know that when it comes to protests, one size does not fit all. The strategy that works for one country, may not be suitable to use against another.

Iran is a country cut off from the rest of the world. Information coming in and reaching "the people" is censored and filtered by a government that thinks that homosexuality is abominable. In such a repressed country, the appearance of a performer who is open and outspoken and not afraid of the ruling regime would be a breath of fresh air to the people. If Morrissey goes to Iran would he get up on stage and sing praises to the government? I don't think so! When I saw him at the Fillmore in San Francisco last year he commented on the outrageous statements of Iran's leader, which were in the news that day. Morrissey said, "the president of Iran says that there are no gay people in Iran. He's right. He's had them all shot."

In the case of a closed-off country like Iran, Morrissey's desire to go there is an attempt to connect directly with "the people." I commend him for it. The best way to protest the policies of the Iranian government is to go there, get on a stage, and be free. And that is something Morrissey does very well. I'd like to see bootleg copies of "I am hated for loving" and "Irish blood, English heart" being played all over Iran.

In the case of a country like Canada, the best way to protest is to refrain from going there. Morrissey can bring more attention to the barbaric seal killing by boycotting Canada than going there. It's that simple.

Back in the 1980s when I was an anti-apartheid activist, there was a raging debate about this very issue. The song by Little Steven and other rock stars about how "I ain't going to play in Sun City" was about this same question. Could more pressure be put on the white South African government by boycotting or visiting the country? That was the question. The white regime was feeling the pressure and embarrassment generated by the boycott maintained by international performers. So the government courted artists from around the world to come to Sun City to perform. And then that same government would use Sun City as a propganda tool to demonstrate that the country was really not a pariah. So in that context, the boycotting of South Africa was an appropriate strategy.

If Morrissey performs in Iran, do you think that the government there would use it as a propoganda tool? I don't think so. I think that if they listen to what Morrissey is saying, in his lyrics, in his movements, in his statements to the press, they will realize how truly subversive the man is.

These were the signs, that led me to marry my husband. He's my lucky number 3 cause third time is always a charm: When I first met Meko it was five minutes before midnight on December 31, 1991 and I was determined to find a man to kiss before the 1992 ball dropped. And there he appeared, right beside me at the bar, which I was clinging to as I sipped my Irish coffee. Mr. tall, dark and handsome, wearing a pair of Malcolm X glasses. The glasses were the first sign that led me to the road that I'm now traveling on. We kissed before exchanging names.

Two nights later, with the taste of that New Year's celebratory kiss still on my lips, I ran into him again at a neighborhood party. It was in Adams Morgan, in Washington, DC. There was a collection of artists, musicians and students in the crowd. Meko was wearing a green kimono. When we got into bed together later that night, I heard him send up a small prayer, as these words came from his lips, "oh please don't let this be another one-night stand."

We've been together 15 years now. That's a mind-boggeling number, isn't it? And we're both still trying to make sure it isn't just another one night stand. Happy anniversary, my Love.

The old adage "a picture is worth a thousand words" is true. I emailed the photo of Morrissey's ass (or arse, as you lovely Brits correctly put it) to a person who is an annoyance to me. He is a photographer, & a "friend" of my husband's, and this guy regularly sends my S.O. photos of women's asses. They're T&A photos, with more A than T. So I sent this guy a photo of the infamous Arse an'all shot with a short message that said "since you're an ass man, I thought you might like this photo."

I sent it to him at about 10:30 pm (Pacific) on Friday and went to bed. He lives on the east coast and is 3 hours ahead. When I woke up on Sat morning and checked my messages, I had 4 from him. He had sent me 3 messages throughout the night, apparently written in a drunken stupor. Each new comment from him seemed to get more slurred, as if he was writing in his own drunken speaking voice, which I detest. One of the drunkest emails said "I want to see the dick." I laughed out loud at that one because to tell you the truth my motive for sending him the photo was to expose his homosexual tendencies. I feel his need to show photos of women's asses to other men and make vulgar comments about them is just as related to his own sexual desires towards the men, than his lust for the females involved.

I should clarify here that I have no problem whatsoever with bisexuality, homosexuality, etc. As a general principle, I have no problem with anyone's sexual preferences, as long as all involved are consenting human adults. (I add human to make it clear, beastiality is abuse. There can never be inter-species consent with any animal.)

My hostility towards this photographer is not that he is bisexual, but that he is aiming his homosexual feelings at my husband, and "I ain't cool with that." Not a bit. I won't go into the long history of this complex relationship (he's known my husband for 20 years, I've known him for 15) but my whole point in writing about it here is that I have to thank Morrissey for once again arousing 'thought-provoking fears' with his outrageousness. That photo hit me with a k.o. punch. Being a "much-incarnated-soul" who remembers a few of my former incarnations (2 or 3 where I was an atractive gay man)I sent the photo feeling that it was going to 'out' the recipient, as much as it would 'out' the sender.

I had a lot of mixed feelings about the release of that photo, but I guess the bottom line (it's impossible not to make a pun here) is that the photo is powerful. It's enough to force a moment to its crisis. Thank you Morrissey for revealing your soul through your art for many years. And thank you for revealing your flesh as well. For me, part of the allure of Morrissey is that he is the Everyman. And the Everywoman. When I see him I see both sides of his persona. They are there in his aura. The male and the femme.

I've noticed that with Morrissey fans, one reason we love his lyrics so much is that they are so laden with meaningfullness. We cite them (at least I do) and utilize them as a sort of short-hand communication or code, in conveying our feelings. The hand signals that Morrissey makes. The double and triple entendres. So, with all that in mind, I sent the Arse photo to an asshole photographer. And I let Morrissey's butt do all the talking.

It is true that the sun shines out of his behind.

"Last call for the West 49th Street stop."

I'm putting away my 49'ers t-shirt tonight, because tomorrow morning I'll be pulling into 50.

I'm watching the old odometer as it slowly rolls around another decade. I guess, for me, it's all made a little less torturous knowing that Morrissey is still chasing my tail, and will be catching up to where I am now, in about 15 months' time.

I guess I've already lasted too long to carry out the James Dean credo of 'die young and leave a good-looking corpse.' My corpse is already past the pretty stage, and I'm still not quite done with it yet.

Hi to Lon, where ever you are. Hope you are enjoying a cosmic train ride.