Pepper Spray Meme

November 21, 2011

Occupy Munchkinland by EnemyLister

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Proposal Accepted

January 12, 2011

Come out and see this film with me.

This time one of my proposals was accepted by The Screening Committee at The Society of Cinema and Media Studies for the 2011 conference in New Orleans. Thank you very much to Dr. Beretta E. Smith-Shomade at Tulane University.

Screening time will be 4:00 PM on March 12. I pitched that they show the film HOWL by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, starring James Franco and Mary Louise Parker.

Thanks to James Q. Chan at Telling Pictures and Kelly Gilpatrick at Werc Werk Works.

HOWL
For Carl Solomon
Part I
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
ment roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the
skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn-
ing their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-
cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of
Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo-
tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery
dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops,
storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon
blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree
vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brook-
lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless
ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
until the noise of wheels and children brought
them down shuddering mouth-wracked and
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s
floated out and sat through the stale beer after
noon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack
of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to
pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook-
lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping
down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills
off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts
and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks
and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days
and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the
Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a
trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic
City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-
ings and migraines of China under junk-with-
drawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the
railroad yard wondering where to go, and went,
leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-
father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep-
athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in-
stinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis-
ionary indian angels who were visionary indian
angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore
gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla-
homa on the impulse of winter midnight street
light smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston
seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the
brilliant Spaniard to converse about America
and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship
to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving
behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees
and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fire
place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the
F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist
eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incom-
prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union
Square weeping and undressing while the sirens
of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed
down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also
wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked
and trembling before the machinery of other
skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight
in policecars for committing no crime but their
own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were
dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu-
scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly
motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim,
the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean
love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose
gardens and the grass of public parks and
cemeteries scattering their semen freely to
whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up
with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath
when the blond & naked angel came to pierce
them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate
the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar
the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb
and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but
sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
threads of the craftsman’s loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of
beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can-
dle and fell off the bed, and continued along
the floor and down the hall and ended fainting
on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and
come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling
in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning
but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun
rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked
in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these
poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver-joy
to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with
gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet-
ticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station
solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in
dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and
picked themselves up out of basements hung
over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third
Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on
the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the
East River to open to a room full of steamheat
and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment
cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime
blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall
be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested
the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of
Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their
pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the
bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in
their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned
with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded
by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht
& tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable
kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for
an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot
for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks
fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess-
fully, gave up and were forced to open antique
stores where they thought they were growing
old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits
on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse
& the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments
of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the
fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinis-
ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the
drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap-
pened and walked away unknown and forgotten
into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley
ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of
the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas-
saic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street,
danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed
phonograph records of nostalgic European
1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and
threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans
in their ears and the blast of colossal steam
whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying
to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude
watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out
if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had
a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who
came back to Denver & waited in vain, who
watched over Denver & brooded & loned in
Denver and finally went away to find out the
Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying
for each other’s salvation and light and breasts,
until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for
impossible criminals with golden heads and the
charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet
blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky
Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys
or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or
Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp
notism & were left with their insanity & their
hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism
and subsequently presented themselves on the
granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads
and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in-
stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin
Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho-
therapy occupational therapy pingpong &
amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic
pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of
blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad
man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the
East,
Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid
halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock-
ing and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench
dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night-
mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book
flung out of the tenement window, and the last
door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone
slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur-
nished room emptied down to the last piece of
mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted
on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that
imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of
hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and
now you’re really in the total animal soup of
time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed
with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use
of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrat-
ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna
Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intel-
ligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet con-
fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America’s naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand
years.
“Howl” by Allen Ginsberg, currently collected in Collected Poems 1947-1997 by Allen Ginsberg.

Tolerated and participated in by Dean Richard Ranta, his assistant dean/dance instructor, Vice Chancellor Karen Weddle-West and University President Shirley Raines and her staff—
topresident.uofm@memphis.edu
dateWed, Aug 25, 2010 at 10:59 AM
subjectSandra Sarkela
mailed-bygmail.com
hide details 10:59 AM (18 minutes ago)

Assistant to President Raines,

Thank you for forwarding this message.

Dear President Raines,

I hope you are enjoying the fresh new beginning of the school year.

I had another meeting with Dr. Sarkela yesterday, after she refused to discuss my contract matters with me via email. Luckily Dr. Gray Matthews was present during this 2.5 hour meeting. I feel most of this meeting was Dr. Sarkela using a tone of voice with me that was not professional.

It was very interesting to hear her rhetoric and interpretation of her staff members’ emails telling me information that I could not find in the student handbook or department webpage.  I would be more than happy to provide you any emails I have exchanged with members of the Communication Department here.

Please allow me to tell you the context in which Dr. Sarkela spoke of my immigrant mother who risked our lives to bring me to the US after escaping Communist rule in Vietnam so I could get an education.

I told Dr. Sarkela that my mother urged me to get help outside of the department because I kept hitting a brick wall when speaking to different members of the department who would tell me things in writing such as: if I didn’t take a certain class, I would not pass my comprehensive exams— and then another staff member told me in writing that I shouldn’t take this certain class that co-incided with a stand alone section of 2381 that was just assigned to me in addition to teaching two other lab sections, in order to “fulfill my contract”.

Upon this, Dr. Sarkela remarked, “Maybe your mother should come to school then.”. I told her that I respect my mother’s wishes to find out more about my work and school schedule because my mother went through untold obstacles for me to be here today.

Dr. Sarkela then delivered a story about how when she was 23 years old, she had to teach Vietnam veterans how to speak again. I’m not really sure what this has to do with me and my Vietnamese mother.

We are very shocked someone who is currently heading a Communication department, teaches women’s communication and women’s studies would make a comment about and to another grown woman this way. There were other things that came out of Dr. Sarkela’s mouth that were quite surprising also.

I feel completely disrespected by certain members of this department, while conversely I’ve been able to clearly communicate with and enjoy spending time with people like Dr. Marina Levina and Professor Steven J. Ross.

Another example of the surprising responses from the department administration is: I emailed a couple simple questions during business hours last week, I got an email back from the graduate coordinator saying she “needed downtime”. I also came by for a meeting with this person, confirmed by the department adminstrative assistant, and no one was there and no one responded after I left a phone messsage.

Dr. Sarkela also told me to not speak with other students during yesterday’s meeting as well***. I find this a bit disconcerting, as this is a democratic society where I should be able to speak with whomever I want.

Dr. Sarkela very strongly urged me to withdraw from the program yesterday completely after I moved my whole life from California to study at and add diversity to your institution.  I have a few emails telling Dr. Sarkela I wanted to go over my contract with her for clarification and that I was more than happy to fulfill my 20 hours of work and to teach according to accreditation standards.  I was expected to teach without being given a textbook for the classes to even look at first.

I expected to be welcomed to U of M, but instead I have been treated disrespectfully as a human being and yelled at by my interim chair in a tone not befitting– and why? because I sought help from outside a department that was not assisting me properly and was trying to get me to do different things at the same time.

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Sandra J Sarkela (ssarkela) <ssarkela@memphis.edu>
Date: Wed, Aug 25, 2010 at 8:13 AM
Subject: RE: Thank you for the meeting today
To: xxxxxx
Dear xxx,
By way of clarification, I spoke of your mother with the utmost respect and mentioned her only after your repeated comments that you felt “pressured” by her questions.  I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Dr. Sarkela
—–
From: xxxxxx
Sent: Tuesday, August 24, 2010 10:40 PM
To: Sandra J Sarkela (ssarkela)
Subject: Thank you for the meeting today
Dr. Sarkela-

Thank you for including Dr. Matthews today. With his addition, I feel communication was vastly more productive.

Next time we speak, I would appreciate it if you didn’t say things to me like the ones you did today with Dr. Matthews present:

How old are you?

How old are you?

Maybe your mother should come to school.

I would not like to be addressed this way again. I would prefer you never refer to my mother this way.

I would never repeatedly ask you how old you are.

I will write you my decision Thursday via email.

Thank you,

xxxxxx
—-

After the student would not withdraw, Sandra Sarkela signed a “Termination Form” in retaliation that was received by The Graduate School and Human Resources- maliciously trying to get rid of ethnic female student and damage student’s reputation after student said she wanted to stay to fulfill her contract properly.

This news came late on Friday, August 27, the day before classes began. The email said student no longer had any income (no more assistantship at all) and now owed The University of Memphis full out of state tuition. This was written by Dr. Amanda Young.

Dean Richard Ranta would not investigate, stating he heard “a very different side of the story” from Sarkela and crew.

No responses from Moira Logan, Assistant Dean, aka dancer who couldn’t make for more than a year in New York City (her words).

Vice Provost Karen Weddle West also wrote in email to intimidate student.

The Legal Department of The University of Memphis then made move to reinstate.

September 10, 2010 meeting with Sheri Lipman and Dr. David, aka Gray, Matthews. Matthews- representing Dept. of Rhetoric/Comm again tried to get student to withdraw stating “Why would you want to stay in a place that makes you so uncomfortable. It’s a really small department- you’d have trouble finding enough people to be on your committee.” to which student responded she had great relationships with other professors who did not participate in malicious termination attempt.

Student is survivor of 9/11.

Sarkela had student teaching 3 classes, more than other students teach. Sarkela said there was a teaching waiver because student had never taught before. It turns out students have to request and sign a waiver. Student never did this-

8/26/2010 Student emails Sandra Sarkela to bring up discrimination, plea for advisement. Sarkela denies advisement.***

8/27/2010 Day before classes- Amanda Young emails student that she is “terminated”, has no income and if she wants to stay in her classes, she now owes the university 20,000.00 + (out of state tuition).

8/30/2010- 9/1/2010– The Department of Rhetoric & Communication Studies places “termination form” in student’s graduate school file and student’s employee file. 2 stamps show receipt by both offices: Career Sabotage. Student has flawless records in school and employment.

Students asks for help from Vice Provost Karen Weddle West who was aware of termination, being copied in 8/27/10 termination email. Weddle-West taunts student via email.

Student asks for help from Dean Richard Ranta, Assistant Dean Moira Logan. No help is offered. Ranta emails only that he heard “a very different side of the story”.

Student is then “reinstated”, to only be intimidated, humiliated, mentally tortured:

9/10/2010 Student is forced to meet with Sheryl (Sheri) Lipman, head counsel for University of Memphis and Vice Chair Gray Matthews.  Lipman refused to let student record meeting. Things said: Why would you want to go to school somewhere you’re so uncomfortable? This department is too small, there won’t be enough people who want to be on your advisery board. Lipman admits in email what was said.

9/13/2010 Witness testimony offers the story that Sandra Sarkela used tax payer dollar and class time to deliver tirade to her husband who was physically present in the class.

9/17/2010 Sandra Sarkela makes unfavorable comments to another female student. Student drops out of Sarkela’s class, also contacts Vice Provost. Vice Provost talks Caucasian female student out of dropping out of the program entirely by saying she doesn’t have to perform her assistantship and the university will still pay for her classes.

<–SUICIDE PREVENTION WEEK AT THE UNIVERSITY OF MEMPHIS–>

9/23/2010 Professor of media class asks class “Is it ok for someone to put up a blog with lies about the University of Memphis and get away with it?” while looking at student complainant.

9/23/2010 University lawyer, Sheri Lipman, and Affirmative Action Compliance Officer, Michelle Banks, enforce retaliatory plan of Dr. Amanda Young, writing to force student to working in a room with an attendant, shared by the public that prohibits water with a large, plastic, red placard reading NO WATER with broken air conditioning.

Lipman, Banks and Young ignore incident report where female student hyperventilated, pulled muscles moving large boxes of books- did not report incident to HR or fill out form in retaliation.

Michelle Banks emails student : you get paid for doing no work.

President’s assistant also emails to order student to work in room with no water, under surveillance (as to deter protected actions) for 20 hours per week.

Meanwhile, other graduate assistants are allowed to have coffee and tea mugs and drinks where they work.

10/6/2010 Student turns in 20 page document of work 2 days early. Sandra Sarkela emails back attacking email.

Student informs Lipman, Banks and Young via email that she talked to OSHA about workplace conditions.***

10/8/2010 Lipman emails and calls student a plagarist because Lipman and Young missed the sources listed in the document* (more attempted Career Sabotage. Student has unblemished academic record), and emails to tell student she had done work all wrong because she put the value of used books, and orders student to put publisher’s value of books (new). Misrepresenting university assets? Lipman’s email orders student to remove photos of books and change numbers.

On Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 9:40 AM, Sheryl H Lipman (slipman) <slipman@memphis.edu> wrote:

xxxxxx-

I understand that you believe you are being asked to do something illegal by noting the new price for the books that you are working with.  Please know that these values are not being used for any illegal purpose, including any tax purpose.  In fact, as a tax exempt organization, I’m not sure how these values of the books could be used in any improper way.

You must stick to your work schedule and correct the document using Dr. Young’s extensive feedback.

Thank you, and have a good week.

Sheri

from xxxxxx
to “Sheryl H Lipman (slipman)” <slipman@memphis.edu>
date Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 9:59 AM
subject Re: valuing of books
mailed-by gmail.com
hide details 9:59 AM (15 minutes ago)
Then why not put the actual values?

Reply
Forward
Reply
|
from Sheryl H Lipman (slipman) <slipman@memphis.edu>
to xxxxxx
date Mon, Oct 11, 2010 at 10:06 AM
subject RE: valuing of books
mailed-by memphis.edu
hide details 10:06 AM (4 minutes ago)

I don’t know, but the reason doesn’t matter.  That’s what you’ve been asked to do, and that is the same process being followed by others who are doing similar projects.

Sheri Lipman

University Counsel

201 Administration Building

Memphis, TN 38152

Phone: 901 678-5496

Fax:     901 678-3489

[see Pepperdine article: Constant Critic, Two Headed Snake, Conqueror]

Work is not academic. It is cataloging book summaries and how much used books are “worth”.

No one from department will answer student’s email.

Continuation of women all bullying one woman.

Pepperdine Article on Workplace Bullies

Workplace Bullying- the Namies

Lautenberg of New Jersey introduces bill to end bullying at colleges and universities, workplace

U of M receives ARRA Recovery Fund money for “diversity/affirmative action”.**

—-

Because of the 11th Amendment, state schools often get away with a lot with their “immunity”:

Abusive Coach at University of Memphis

African Americans denied Tenure after applying 3 times, Other EEOC cases- University of Memphis- “Minority Hiring a Scam”

University of Memphis’ Anti-Gay Gym Policy

Side note: City of Memphis not proceeding with policy against gay discrimination

—–

Two gunmen in two months. NO texts to students

September- 2 rounds, sharpened daggers

October – 2 rounds

Football player gunned down on campus, family files Wrongful Death suit against U of M