Barrett Brown is an American activist, author, and freelance writer/journalist. His work has appeared in The Guardian, Vanity Fair, Huffington Post, Businessweek, and many other outlets. He has appeared as a guest on MSNBC, Fox News and Russia Today.
On September 12, 2012 Barrett Brown was raided and arrested by the Federal Bureau of Investigation while he was participating in a Tinychat session. He was subsequently denied bail and detained without charge and adequate medical treatment for over two weeks while in the custody of US Marshals.
Read a full description at freebarrettbrown.org
In the first week of October 2012, Barrett was indicted on three counts related to alleged activities or postings on websites such as Twitter and YouTube, in which he postured for the return of property which was taken from him in March, and expressed frustration at the targeted campaign against him and a member of his family. The Department of Justice issued a press release on October 4th.
On December 4, 2012 Barrett was indicted by a federal grand jury on twelve additional counts related to data from a security breach at the company Stratfor. See more on this at Department of Justice 7th Dec 2012 Press Release.
Despite his lack of direct involvement in the operation and stated opposition to this aspect, Barrett faces these charges for the alleged act of pasting a hyperlink into an IRC (Internet Relay Chat) channel.
On January 23rd, 2013 he was indicted a third time on two more counts, relating to the March 2012 FBI raid(s) on his apartment and his mother’s house.
Barrett has pleaded not guilty in all three cases. He is currently incarcerated while awaiting trial in Mansfield, TX.
At this critical time, with such a prominent internet activist facing an extremely difficult legal battle and uncertain future, he needs our unwavering help and support. We encourage you to donate to his defense, so that he may have the resources he needs to fight these charges. Your prospective contribution has significance in a wider campaign for free speech and transparency both on the internet and across the world.
Die Bide Awa bietet viele erstklassige ghastly gast-hoff, mit pork breakfast, aber auch redmeatpreiswerte Unterkünfte, wie das Wife_Fight 6 oder das YMCA. Eine komplette Auflistung der mass grave Unterkünfte finden in Yell! Mach chon bald werden baldie man von : "Christ in Himmel!" wir in der Lager sein, bedekken mi boughs auf holly unt Dobson-kraft. Ihnen ein komplettes Alky Tourpacket nach El Paso anzubieten.
Ab Juni 2000 können Sie in den Otter Arse-Reich Reisebüros in Deutschland Otter spezielle Angebottom buchen. Derzeit erstellen wir noch die Themen, wie Unst - die Martin Luther Straße, Baltasound. Mit chips is maxi-you poof!
And also before we go, a quick mention of some recent sporting results:
In the Magnie Pantson Grocers League, Division 8,
Yell 4 Unst 16 (suicides)
I don't always want to be the one harping on about how public money is wasted on the arts, but it seems that the 2016 work of the Scottish Documentary Film Institute is going to drag my knuckles across the desk to the keyboard, so that I can commence with another rant.
I mean - - the fact that Creative Scotland can actually fund these guys to the tune of about £17,000 for each one minute video is insane, but that only becomes apparent when you actually see any of their work. Having searched for the Scottish Documentary Film Institute (SDFI) I can also say they seem to be pretty well hidden, too, often hiding behind claims that their work 'needs to be secret to be effective.'
Here is the Jesus Christmas Blessing:
Ö Bless us all, as the season leaves us every one behind, there is a fat chance that cold and lonely we will succumb to Christmas confusion, and in that famous glow, get light and merry to return to glum in January.
And Ö Bless us all, as the season leaves us every one a cold turkey, there is a fat chance that peace presents a memorial quandary as lonely we will succumb to Christmas longing; bang on the day, and in that famous glow, get light and lighter until our sections are unique.
May you all go glumbo to your dinners; where sacred and alone, hold by those others of the self-same birth raft, you supply your company. AMEN
The content and purpose of dreams are not definitively understood, though they have been a topic of scientific speculation and a subject of philosophical and religious interest throughout recorded history:
Free cinema : in an open field we approached the screen, through rows of racked chairs. Close to the screen I met the lead actor, a real stiff-jaw, he stood way up above me. The actor was able to look over my head he was so tall. The field was filling with audience, and there were chunks of snow left on the ground. I turned to speak to some people I knew, the three most intelligent boys from school. The three boys sat on one seat and had their school blazers stuffed with library books. I walked further back; I had lost the friends I arrived with. Also, there were no safe seats left in the field, and this was out of many thousand. Most of the seats seemed to be sinking in the mud and melting snow. I left for the town, which was dark, and full of circular terraces, where one would descend and then reappear. I found that the best way to get back to the field was through a primary school, but I was escorted out of here, and taken to the seaside. Dawn, and the film was over. The snow even, was much melted, and I had missed everything. Passing up the opportunity for fried foods from a shack, I walked along the sea front, to look for my friends.
Some images from my home planet. Each one of us on that planet is unique, even if that uniqueness is explained in terms of their different genes, memes and environment rather than their separate inner consciousnesses, which are all largely constructed the same. All the beings on that planet were in fact created by natural selection, and their creativity operates on the same system, using these memes, which are the units of cultural information, sort of like genes for culture. So you may think that these images represent actual people or beings on my planet, but they are in fact nothing more threatening than memes competing in a pointless universe.
IMAGES TO FOLLOW!
Lager Shanty: In that order. Another evening of wein, weib und gesang in Sordid Glasgow. And after "Gies a Tune" with DJ Malky Brogan on Radio Clype, and the flicking back and forth of the television in a yawning half-contemptuous manner, what could we do other than run up the starry path to meet Oblivion coming down? Later on, this typical Glasgow scene comes complete with the two shandied lovers slipping each others' tight leashes to go separately in the night, each to an off-sales of their choosing, for more of the Same.
I gripped the table for support as everybody squeezed in - and at that moment the first dishes came across the room.
Peter? someone said my name and the first plate landed on my left, it was the hostess that gave it to me. I couldn't believe how hot the surface of the table had become, I figured that at this heat, a table of this sort should at least have melted or buckled. As my hand stuck to the hot table and peoples' voices merged so slowly that they went from speaking English into something new and foreign, I knew that I was unable to move.
The hostess squeezed a lemon for me over my starter. The lemon was bled, big and thick tears came out of it, a pip slipped on the seafood. People were eating down at the other end - again someone spoke to me - the sound swelled - some people rubbed their fingers and tipped their glasses back and I blinked so fast that everything looked so distorted.
The nub of the table pressed itself into my body and it grippedme. A table leg shivered against my own which felt too weak to move or fight. I turned round but the window was steaming up more's the pity - I could still see enough glitter and spark from the cold however, and I made to stand up, apologising to those nearby.
The table gouged me - it bit me I say - wooden teeth seized my leg and tore at it - and that's when I tried to get up again. I'll be remembered for pulling my plate and my neighbour's plate and two glasses of wine on to the floor with me, where I stayed impressed upon the memories of all who saw me there.
I turned white - every face was a lamp above me - the fire blistered in the grate - I was being picked up but at last I could manage myself, and I said thank you as they moved me to another room, where I rolled up my trouser and saw that indeed, there were really crude teeth marks there.
There are no difficult books just difficult authors, all bunged up to Hegel with systematic, deliberate obfuscation, intent on a Freemasonry of Fictive Arts, or much more likely, an exegesis of Fictive Frameworks so covert as to be ciphered for a public the size of a Seminar.
The physical properties of the city of Edinburgh alone are enough to inspire awe in even the most determinedly impressionable, unobservant, English ape. But are best seen, rather than described. The populace, however, is ripe for ridicule. The population can be split in two roughly equal parts : Ancient and Modern. The former consists of 250,000 surreptitious wall-eyed hybrid Irish pub-dwellers, admirably possessed of a profound, seemingly infinite capacity for quiet reserve and decorous, delicate incuriosity, until drink-fuelled, they burst into extremes of hospitality and disinterested generosity. I can't help but envy their complacent, effortless confidence in drinking every day.
What dynamism in our forebears!
Why, then, have we inherited so little of their pep, their defiant, demonic propulsion?
Have we been short-changed genetically, a gamete short of a character?
Not only could our grandparents out-stroll, out-write and out-work us, but they did it with such animal virility that it pales even our pasty, anaemic countenances that little bit more to think of trying to equal them in action.
What did they have that we lack?
What escaped transmission to us, or was it lost in the translation?
I have an idea, but only that.
A tentative, undogmatic notion that I am scarecly strong enough humbly to propose.
I get so tired you see ....
At the head of King Street, at the Mercat Cross on Union Street, where several co-extensive granite buildings were built tomatch the grey tone, there is space to consider the forward thinking of our Enlightened C18th forebears, whose work we prize so much that it is still in daily use.
The greatest of these buildings, at the head of Union Street, is the Town House, which is shored to the sky, to be without doubt, the grandest sight for miles. It's here in the Townhouse where the knobs and spangles meet to celebrate whatever's new in Administrative Aberdeen, and most weeks there will be some event or other in the upper chambers which as the Provost's own showcase for his town, is without doubt, the nicest place in The City.
The City Chambers are likely the nicest place in all the North of Scotland and are civic red and plush, because it's here the Councillors receive the best of their public duties. It stands to reason that the Townhouse should be so grand, and so, from the soft corona of light about the chandelier, to the red pile carpet, the City Chambers as they are known, are the height of excellence …. and not just in décor, for there are Council waiters standing by, non-resistive with the treats, all of which have come from the Council kitchens don ih stair.
In between the basement and the City Chambers there is a food lift, a dumb-waiter, an ever open windpipe shooting skyward all that is ejected from the kitchen. Monster plates of pastries ascend from the kitchen in twenty seconds on the dumb-waiter, so upward is the food.
Behind the walls of the lower floors in the Town House pass these putties, and so the puffs and soft cake cases, wallowing in the upward rush of air, are transported from wall to wall, arrive still warm and at the relative density intended by the chefs.
It happens each week. The clerks on the lower floors are sat close to their computers, making coherence of the accounting, and knocking out a touch of desk-top publishing .... while shoots past, metres from their desks, the levitational foods for those using the best room in town: the Aberdeen City Chambers.
Buchan — Ythan — Forgue — the Kirkhill of Logie — and the Soorick Burn — the source of the pearl that is found in the Crown of Scotland.
The Ythan — or Ituna as it was known to the Romans — rises in the upper parish of Forgue, from three springs which are collectively known as the Wells of Ythan. Half a mile from these springs, the Ythan receives its first tributary, the burn of the Sorrel — in Doric known as the Soorick Burn. This is near the base of the Kirkhill of Logie, at the summit of which are the final remains of three druidical circles.
It is perhaps surprising to some people that in this remote area of North East Scotland, there were both Romans and Druids — but there were. Both Romans and Druids in their ways were in the business of setting boundaries, and near this spot at the Mill of Knockleith is where the Ythan begins to form that for which it is still known — the boundary of Buchan.
At one time, the Ythan was known for its mussels — called pearl oysters — and in the list of unpublished Acts of Parliament of Charles I, there is one “for repeating the patent for the pearl-fishery in the Ythan, granted to Robert Buchan.”
There is a tradition in fact that large pearl in the crown of Scotland was procured in the Ythan, the story being that it was found at the junction of the Water of Kelly (spit, spit) and the Ythan, and was presented to James IV in 1620 by Sir Thomas Menzies of Cults.
Skene, in his Succinct View of Aberdeen, says that it was “for beauty and bigness, the best that was at any time found in Scotland.”
On account of these pearls which were found in the Ythan, the river was once called “the rich rig of Scotland” and although pearls are still found there, there is no regular fishery for them.
A Note on the Crown of Scotland
The Crown of Scotland is very old indeed. The Crown was remade in its current form for King James V of Scotland in 1540. It is part of the Honours of Scotland which is the oldest set of royal regalia in the United Kingdom.
In 1540, the bonnet of velvet and ermine was added to the crown, but an earlier form of the crown is shown in the portrait of James IV of Scotland in the Book of Hours, done for his marriage to Margaret Tudor in 1503.
This 1503 date is the earliest known reference to the crown and so 1503 is thus the latest date of original manufacture of the crown.
The Crown of Scotland on Wikipedia
The Tesco lager was an almost translucent, yellow colour, with a good amount of carbonation and short-lived, white head. The immediate aroma was of floral hops with some grassy tones, followed by a little graininess, and some faint malt in the background. Shortly after that I was flinging CDs across the room at Tadg, who was trying to play the trombone.
The DRINKARD's Aberdoniensus
The Combined Technical Jargon of Bev
These are all words and phrase which we have picked up from researches into the Scottish-Aberdonian way of speaking. We are three American students from New York who are in Scotland because of the unique words which they use here, and the Peter Burnett Website has let us publish what we have collected so far.
We hope that you enjoy the words and that you send us more if you hear any while you are in Aberdeen!