END:CIV – Documentary Film ‘Sneak Preview’ Screening November 15, 2010 at University of Victoria

END:CIV | ‘Sneak Preview’ Doc Film Screening | November 15, 2010
1:00pm @ UVic First Peoples House | FREE

On Monday, November 15th UVic will host a free “sneak preview” screening of END:CIV — a new documentary film by Franklin Lopez of Submedia.tv. The film “examines our culture’s addiction to systematic violence and environmental exploitation, and probes the resulting epidemic of poisoned landscapes and shell-shocked nations. Based in part on Endgame, the best-selling book by Derrick Jensen, END:CIV asks: “If your homeland was invaded by aliens who cut down the forests, poisoned the water and air, and contaminated the food supply, would you resist?”

END:CIV includes interviews with Paul Watson, Waziyatawin,  Gord Hill, Michael Becker, Peter Gelderloos, Lierre Keith, James Howard Kunstler, Stephanie McMillan, Qwatsinas, Rod Coronado, John Zerzan and more.


Derrick Jensen: November 17, 2010 at University of Victoria

More Indigenous-centred events are happening at the University of Victoria than ever before. Following Waziyatawin‘s talk November 2nd on Indigenous Peoples and Global Collapse, there will be two other notable events this month that will be well worth attending.

An Evening with Derrick Jensen | November 17, 2010
7:30pm @ UVic MacLaurin A144 | FREE

On Tuesday, November 17, 2010,  the University of Victoria will host a free talk with acclaimed author and activist Derrick Jensen. The talk is being presented by UVic’s Indigenous Governance program and Social Justice Studies.

Jensen is the author of 15 books, including Endgame, What We Leave Behind, A Language Older Than Words, The Culture of Make Believe, and Listening to the Land. He was one of two finalists for the 2003 J. Anthony Lukas Book Prize, which cited The Culture of Make Believe as “a passionate and provocative meditation on the nexus of racism, genocide, environmental destruction and corporate malfeasance, where civilization meets its discontents.” He is a revolutionary activist who has been hailed as the “philosopher poet of the environmental movement”.

But what does he have to say about Indigenous issues and struggles? Is his writing and activism relevant to Indigenous Peoples? Should we be listening to him? Come see what all the hype is about. There will be a Q & A after the talk, so you’ll have the chance to weigh in.

Indigenous Peoples and Global Collapse: Waziyatawin

Waziyatawin, an incredible Dakota scholar, activist and Indigenous Governance professor, will be speaking at the University of Victoria on Tuesday, November 2, 2010. The talk is being presented as part of the UVic Native Students Union Speaker Series and will be held from 11:30am – 1:30pm in the First Peoples House Ceremonial Hall at UVic. The presentation will be tailored for an Indigenous audience. The event is free and no registration is required.

Waziyatawin’s recent work builds on her own research and writing, as well as existing literature on peak oil and the impending collapse of Western Civilization, as framed by Derrick Jensen (Endgame) and the END:CIV project.

To my Indigenous brothers and sisters: if you haven’t yet had the chance to hear Waziyatawin speak, I urge you to come out and listen. She will rock your world,  shatter your assumptions about peak oil, and compel you to take action to defend yourself, your people, and your homeland!

Indigenous Governance will also be hosting Endgame: An Evening with Derrick Jensen at UVic on November 17th.

Show and Prove: The Tensions, Contradictions, and Possibilities of Hip-Hop Studies in Practice

Show and Prove: The Tensions, Contradictions, and Possibilities of Hip Hop Studies in Practice: a two-day event featuring panels, films and discussions featuring new work in the “burgeoning field of Hip Hop Studies”. The event is free and open to the public, and will contain many thought-provoking talks by scholars, authors and participants in hip hop music and the study of hip hop culture. The symposium was held September 18-19, 2010 @ NYU.

I was offline all summer and missed this completely, but I would love to hear more about it. If you attended or know more about it please drop me some comments or hit me w/ email.

Hip-Hop scholarship is advancing at a rapid rate — and I’m glad to see that there are now quality investigations into its possibilities and limitations as an area of academic interest.  As an ambivalent academic and passionate rap addict, I’m immersed in the paradoxical pursuit of hip-hop praxis within the world of graduate studies and there are indeed many tensions as well as exciting areas of opportunity.  So I hope there are more opportunities like Show & Prove to bring together scholars, artists, activists, and community members to dialogue and exchange ideas about where hip-hop is headed and how the work we do up in the Ivory Tower can remain relevant to the streets — wherever and however you live.

Tipêyimisowin: On Violence, Revolution, and Indigenous Liberation

We talk of violence like it’s something we know or could imagine. We talk like we’re the front lines of the resistance. We push over newspaper bins drunk on the weekends and call ourselves warriors. We stand behind the mask-clad anarchists trying to redefine our terminological foundations. It’s all theory. What’s the point of arguing over actions so removed from our reality? What will we actually actualize? Fanon tells us: “the colonized man finds his freedom in and through violence”. We feel compelled to agree. Obligated even. It sounds attractive, tastes magnetic; it finds ways to pull us in.

Guns and ammo. Point and shoot. Hunt, kill, destroy, cleanse, renew. Vive la revolution, la violencia, la resistance. We are pulling the triggers of imaginary weapons from inside the Starbucks window. We are pointing gun fingers from our cars as we drive-by.

This unhappy secret has been let out to run circles around the room, like smoke swirling over our heads to form thunderclouds. Our minds are the gathering storm.

But I’ve never shot a real rifle. When I was three or four, that air gun clanged, popped and punctuated metal garbage cans in the alley.  My target was dead metal before the trigger clicked anyway. So what does this magnetic pull imply?

The illumination of violence is like lightning: a fleeting powerful flash on the horizon. The sound of its repercussions will follow only later. You can count the seconds between the shots fired and the retaliation.

Some state premises: “Fifteen: Love does not imply pacifism” (Jensen, xi). This same voice, thin in the din of gunfire, can’t be heard over the echoing collapse to say: “I don’t know what to do. I’m a writer.”

Yet we speak of war like it’s inevitably ours. We think freedom and talk tactics.

The premise speaker acknowledges his recon mission consists of less than his rhetoric implies. He drives behind the Safeway to stare up at cell phone towers— dreaming of bombs he won’t build, cables he can’t cut, resistance skills he will never acquire.

Violence is fantasy, a pornographic pretence of purpose that portends toward liberation, but it is neither a means nor an end in itself.

In itself, from the barricaded desk cluster of the classroom, it is a creative utopia, a conceptual freedom, an outcome as much as a process. It takes up space in our mouths and our minds, forcing out other alternatives.

Violence is a masculine bully, an abuser, a pushy accomplice, a devil on your shoulder that dares your claws to come out, your fingers to fold into a fist and be thrown across the room at the face of the Other, daring your unconscious to begin to dream-assemble the wires that will bomb the Bad Guys into Oblivion. Back to the Stone Age.

And yet the State destroys us, anonymously (or, if in name only, in the name of Her Majesty, in the name of Dominion, O Canada). Her blood red maple flag mittens kill us softly, the wool of her grip itching our throats as it tightens vice-like around our necks.

What does it mean to resist this insistence?

We will buy our own mittens now, thank you very much. We will tie our five-ringed scarves in a noose and hang ourselves. While we are teenagers. While you are sleeping. We will burn your flag and turn the guns on ourselves.

If, “the settler’s work is to make even the dreams of liberty impossible for the native. The native’s work is to imagine all possible methods for destroying the settler”.

But don’t worry. We will do the work for you.

Point. Click. Swissssshh. What might have once been a miniature square fabric reading a comic book “Bang!” has morphed to the sunshine-encircled head of an Indian. The Mohawk flag. The blocked barrel a veritable symbol of victory, innit?

Now he’s gone i don’t know why
and to this day sometimes i cry
he didn’t even say goodbye he didn’t take the time to lie
bang, bang
he shot me down, bang bang
i hit the ground
bang, bang that awful sound, bang bang
my baby shot me down.

There’s that smell again; the incandescent scent of anger, the dark contours of artillery aimed in the wrong direction.


Note: ᑎᐯᔨᒥᓱᐃᐧᐣ [tipêyimisowin] is the Cree word for liberation/freedom