This week's cover is a tribute to versatile actor Johnny Depp.

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QUEENSTOWN, SOUTH AFRICA - Damn you masters of war, yea who build to destroy. - Bob Dylan

The dash, stop and whistle five-nation African tour by the Bush II entourage found me reading Robert Kagan's book Paradise and Power: America and Europe in the New World Order. Kagan is a former official of the State Department and a member of the group of the so-called "neo-conservatives" who dominate current policy-making in the United States. It is apparent that he has no doubts about the benevolence of American power, what Bush has described as 'compassionate conservatism." ÝIn bygone days the phrase was "Caesar with a soul." Albert Camus, especially, exposed its real colours regarding France's dominance of Algeria. This resurgence of belief in the benevolence of imperial powers would be comical were it not for tragic consequences like the recent American invasion of Iraq. The US government does have the material power to pursue this tragic comedy of consecrated vanity... MORE





by BOB POWERS

MARIETTA, OH, USA - The record companies, ripped and kicked and slammed by the public, labor under an unfair burden of charges. One, of course, contends that since a compact disc costs pennies to produce, the public shouldn't have to expend upwards of $18 at their friendly Wal-Mart.

Okay, for the most part I don't deal with the big companies. But those companies must get a return on their investments to make it possible to take chances on unknown talent who might make it to popularity some day. And the companies that send me CDs are manned by brave souls who work on the slimmest of edges, where selling another 100 copies of a new disc could spell the difference between a pricey steakhouse and the drive-thru window at McDonald's.... MORE





by BORZOU DARAGAHI

BAGHDAD, IRAQ - The grassy fields sway as the American helicopters patrol the green, bountiful bluffs and floodplains of the Tigris River. I'm with my translator, Tahseen, the same one who worked for me during the war. He made a small fortune working for me during those months. I urged him to save the money for a rainy day. Instead, the crazy kid went out and bought a zippy, candy-red Audi that I'm driving now along the country roads. The windows are down and the radio alternates between catchy Arab pop tunes and American rap and R&B songs. Thank goodness for Radio Sawa, the new U.S.-run AM music station.

We vie for the road with long, noisy columns of American military hardware and rickety tractors. The night before, U.S. forces patrolling the area were ambushed by a group of proverbial "bad guys." The rocket-propelled grenades they launched barely scratched the Americans' M-1 tank. But the Americans responded with full force. Soldiers lit up the night with flares and radioed three Bradley fighting vehicles and an Apache helicopter for backup.

Then the story gets messy.... MORE

NEW ORLEANS - 10 July, 2003: I STARTED OUT BELIEVING that this was supposed to be "My Week". Based on recent e-mails, I was sure that at least a couple of the people who had pledged money for my legal defense would come through and I'd be able to make another payment to my lawyer. I was sure that I'd get the new editing job I'd gotten off the ground and start to bring in some real income there. I felt that I would make some headway in my legal battles.

"Dream on, Loser!"

What really happened:

1. NO money came in. All those well-intentioned people sending me e-mails of support and saying they'd send money must have lost their senses of urgency after clicking the "SEND" button.
2. The place where I go for my wireless connection was down all week, so I wasn't able to send e-mails. I could go somewhere else to launch the magazine's latest edition and receive mail, but otherwise I was incommunicado. ("Why didn't you ask Matt?" you might ask. Well, his girlfriend is a moody type and I don't want to wear out my welcome with her. It doesn't help for me to come around when we're both broke. In this case, he owes his girlfriend money. Why press a sore point?)
3. Without access to the 'Net, I couldn't move forward with the e-publisher. I'm hoping to somehow overcome this obstacle today.
4. The District Attorney's office asked for a continuance on my case. The judge was extremely upset. An argument ensued over the fact that Orleans parish, under our newly elected District Attorney, Eddie Jordan, is suddenly beginning to recognize state legal codes - something it hasn't done for time immemorial - and require written filing of motions. (Yes, this is the same Jordan whose claim to fame is putting former-Governor Edwin Edwards away.) It's causing quite a stir, I'm told. In any event, motions will be determined on 8 August now. At that point, an actual trial date might be set. Or not. Then, if my case hasn't yet been thrown out, we go to selecting a jury.

(Picture me screaming.) "Arrrrgh!!!"... MORE


[EDITOR'S NOTE: What follows is a work of fiction submitted by a writer in India. Yes, I know we don't normally run fiction. My resolve seems to have been weaker than ever in that regard this year. Because of the length of this piece, I've chosen to run it over two editions of the magazine. Enjoy! - RA]

by TAPAS RAY

CALCUTTA, INDIA -He had told Neepa about his decision to go off to the mountains, but she had made no comment, thinking it was nothing more than a daydream, a fever that would pass as most fevers passed with the break of dawn. But she understood it was different this time when he said he had got his leave sanctioned. She said she couldn't believe her ears, and was "So hurt! So hurt!" but he thought the problem really was with her pride. How could he go off without her, she wanted to know. How could he even think of such a thing?

There were tears, and complaints of indifference that had no effect on him other than producing irritation, because he had heard these so many times already. It was no use trying to explain that he was suffocating and had to go where he was going simply to breathe again. And that he needed to spend some time alone, with neither she, nor the baby, nor his parents, present to claim his attention or break into his thoughts ... But she didn't seem to understand. Either that, or it didn't matter to her, he thought, that he needed fresh air...

So he gave up trying to reason with her, and went about making preparations for the trip, the first item on the list being a reserved sleeper berth on the train.

After the sleeper berth, it was an old canvas rucksack [that was needed]. It had been stowed, when they moved into the house, in one of the two lofts under the ceiling of the dining room. Five tunnel-like lofts with wooden doors, each four feet wide, a yard high and five or six feet long, had been built into the house over as many narrow spaces that had found their way into the design, two on the ground floor and three on the first floor, the latter being where they actually lived. These lofts were meant for storing the various things the family had stopped using for one reason or another but liked to imagine it would need some day or simply did not have the heart to throw away. Later, however, no one remembered what exactly had gone into those dark pigeonholes of the past carved out of the wide, well-lit space of their present. It was only when someone looked for something that couldn't be found in any of the rooms but had left such a luminous trail in the mind that one instinctively knew it was still in the house, that the stepladder was brought out of the store-room on the ground floor and the lofts searched.... MORE


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(LIONEL ROLFE writes from Sofia about the difficulties facing Bulgarian musicians; a special dispatch from BORZOU DARAGAHI in the Sunni Triangle of Iraq; and much more!)

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