Monday, January 30, 2012


The Star Chamber
The Star Chamber
Directed by Peter Hyams
Written by Roderick Taylor
Starring Michael Douglas
Hal Holbrook
Yaphet Kotto
Sharon Gless
Distributed by 20th Century Fox
Release date August 5, 1983

The Star Chamber is a 1983 American thriller film written by Roderick Taylor and directed by Peter Hyams. It stars Michael Douglas and Hal Holbrook. Its title is taken from the name of the notorious 17th century English court.


Judge Hardin (Douglas) is an idealistic Los Angeles jurist who gets frustrated when the technicalities of the law prevent the prosecution of two men who are accused of raping and killing a 10-year-old boy. They were driving slowly late at night and attracted the suspicion of two police officers, who wondered if the van's occupants might be burglars. After checking the license plate for violations, the policemen pulled them over for expired paperwork, claimed to have smelled marijuana, then saw a bloody shoe inside the van. However, the paperwork was actually submitted on time (it was merely processed late), meaning the police had no reason to pull over the van and Hardin has no choice (see fruit of the poisonous tree) but to throw out any subsequently discovered evidence, i.e. the bloody shoe. Hardin is even more distraught when the father of the boy attempts to shoot the criminals in court but misses and shoots a cop instead. Subsequently, the father commits suicide while in jail only after he informs Hardin that another boy has been discovered raped and murdered and tells him "This one is on you, your Honor. That boy would be alive if you hadn't let those men go." After hearing all this, Judge Hardin approaches his friend, Judge Caulfield (Hal Holbrook), who tells him of a modern-day Star Chamber: a group of judges who identify criminals who fell through the judicial system's cracks and then take actions against them outside the legal structure ....

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia



Afghan officials: Woman killed for giving birth to a girl 

The Associated Press

Date: Monday Jan. 30, 2012 12:38 PM ET

An Afghan woman has been strangled to death, apparently by her husband, who was upset that she gave birth to a second daughter rather than the son he wanted, police said Monday.

It was the latest in a series of grisly examples of subjugation of women that have made headlines in Afghanistan in the past few months -- including a 15-year-old tortured and forced into prostitution by in-laws and a female rape victim who was imprisoned for adultery.

The episodes have raised the question of what will happen to the push for women's rights in Afghanistan as the international presence here shrinks along with the military drawdown. NATO forces are scheduled to pull out by the end of 2014.

In the 10 years since the ouster of the Taliban, great strides have been made for women in Afghanistan, with many attending school, working in offices and even sometimes marching in protests. But abuse and repression of women are still common, particularly in rural areas where women are still unlikely to set foot outside of the house without a burqa robe that covers them from head to toe.

The man in the latest case, Sher Mohammad, fled the Khanabad district in Kunduz province last week, about the time a neighbour found his 22-year-old wife dead in their house, said District Police Chief Sufi Habibullah. Medical examiners whom police brought to check the body said she had been strangled, Habibullah said.

The woman, named Estorai, had warned family members that her husband had repeatedly reproached her for giving birth to a daughter rather than a son and had threatened to kill her if it happened again, said Provincial women's affairs chief Nadira Ghya, who travelled to Khanabad to deal with the case. Estorai gave birth to her second daughter between two and three months ago, Ghya said. Officials did not have a family name for either Sher Mohammad or Estorai.

Police took the man's mother into custody because she appears to have collaborated in a plot to kill her daughter-in-law, Habibullah said. Ghya, who visited the man's mother in jail, said that she swears that Estorai committed suicide by hanging. Police said they found no rope and no evidence of hanging from the woman's wounds.

Boy babies are traditionally prized much more highly than girls in Afghanistan, where a son means a breadwinner and a daughter is seen as a drain on the family until she is married off. Even so, a murder over the gender of a baby would be rare and shocking if proved true.

The U.S. Embassy issued a statement Monday praising the Afghan government for recent declarations supporting women's rights in the wake of the latest abuse cases that have garnered media attention.

"The rights of women cannot be relegated to the margins of international affairs, as this issue is at the core of our national security and the security of people everywhere," the statement said. It did not address the killing of the young woman in Kunduz.

Read more:


Sunday, January 29, 2012


OCTOBER 7, 1996
1940s-1950s Passaic County, New Jersey Named Deputy Sheriff Badge
I am offering a $5,000.00 Reward
For information leading to the arrest and conviction
Of  Dawn McSweeney
And the return of all the property she stole
From me and from my family.
Isabelle Morin , M.P.
The Editor
NDG Free Press
If you are able and willing to provide that information.
Phyllis Carter
Detailed reports of these crimes are open to the public at
It is all about Justice
 Now with more than 42,500 readers around the world
November 3, 2011
My darling husband, Clifford John Manning Carter was a Deputy Sheriff in Passaic, New Jersey, from the late 1950's - perhaps from 1957 - and into the 1960's. He lived in Paterson at the time. He was so proud of his badge.

After Cliff died here in Montreal, Canada in 1992 at the age of 89, I treasured every precious thing he left me - but especially his badge. 
On October 7, 1996, I was attacked and robbed in my home. The thief, Dawn McSweeney, took everything I had worked for all my life - not only our valuable jewellery - but also our wedding portrait, Cliff's trademark Stetson Fedora (see his album cover below) - and his Deputy Sheriff badge.
I have searched the Internet for years, in the hope that the thieves would try to sell Cliff's badge and I would find it. But I have not found it, nor one that looks exactly like it. But here are two badges that have similarities. Cliff's name is on the face his badge as you see in these examples and the county he served. Cliff's badge is silver with blue enamel.
(The badge in the article above is very similar to the one Dawn McSweeney stole.)

Every time I see a badge anywhere, it hurts me so much. The robbery shattered my family - tore us apart for a decade, until my parents died. And the thought of - not only being deprived of Cliff's precious badge, but also knowing that the heartless thief and her accomplices - who she calls her "partners in crime" on her own blog - have it in their dirty hands hurts me more than words can say. And that was why Dawn McSweeney stole - not only our valuable jewellery - but also our wedding portrait, Cliff's Stetson fedora and his badge. These she stole not for monetary gain, but deliberately to hurt me deeply.

I wrote to the Sheriff's office in Passaic, but no one there had any information about Cliff. Younger people take over and the past is lost. Papers and documents get buried, lost, especially since everything is now computerized.

Is it possible that anyone in the Passaic area remembers Cliff Carter? Is there anyone who has heard about him ?

I yearn for the return of Cliff's badge but a Montreal Police officer helped Dawn McSweeney to rob me, so the Montreal Police have refused again and again - from day one to this day - to do take any action to recover my precious belongings from the thief or to bring her to trial. 
Member of Parliament, Marlene Jennings, stated at two public meetings in 2008, "Mrs. Carter's rights were violated three times". But no one is doing anything about these crimes.
I pleaded with many others in authority to go after the criminals who I identified to the police immediately at the time of the robbery. But they all say, "This is not in my jurisdiction". No one is responsible.
Since then those criminals have tried various cruel tactics to try to silence me so that I would stop pursuing the case. All the details are reported at The Dawn McSweeney Case -

Who cares about Cliff Carter's legacy? I do ! I am now 75 years old and fighting cancer. Cliff has been gone for many years now, but I am still his wife. I am still deeply in love with him. I am still so proud of who he was. And I will continue pursuing this case to my last breath.

My reports present an accurate and fascinating insight into the many flaws in Montreal, Quebec and Canada's injustice system that favours criminals, and a moving true story of how our family was destroyed because the authorities in Montreal absolutely refuse to take appropriate legal action.

Cliff was a proud citizen of the United States. As a landed immigrant, he was a beloved figure as a gentleman musician here in Montreal for half a century.CTV and RCA Records made his only record album, MR. NOSTALGIA, CLIFF CARTER in 1982.

I can provide detailed information upon request and I will gladly answer any questions. My struggle for justice continues. I want my husband's badge. I will never stop fighting for it's return.
There is a reward for information that leads to the return of my precious belongings.

Phyllis Carter
Montreal, Quebec,
Cliff always wore his Stetson fedora
Our Wedding Portrait
Original stolen by Dawn McSweeney


Campaigning, shaking hands, kissing babies,
Making promises - that are not clear promises,
The politician reaches for your heart -
Your vote,
And your wallet.
Ask him to put it in writing.
Here is the true face of the politician
Show me the exceptions
Gulp !
The politician can change parties,
Change policies,
Change semantics,
The leopard does not change his spots.

Saturday, January 28, 2012


January 28, 2012
As I said earlier, one of the backdrops for my concerns is Canada's ageing population. If not addressed promptly this has the capacity to undermine Canada's economic position, and for that matter, that of all western nations, well beyond the current economic crises.
Phyllis Carter   We could solve many of the financial problems if cancer patients like me just committed suicide. However, we choose to fight for life in spite of the dreams of the ultra rich who sit in their counting houses counting out their money.



A pair of bills passed by Pakistan's parliament today have made it illegal to throw acid on women or force them into prostitution. Progress!

The Anti-Women Practices Bill seeks to ban five (epithet) things that sometimes happen to Pakistani women, from forced marriage to deprivation of inheritance based on sex. It's also illegal for families to give women away in order to settle disputes or prevent their daughters from marrying. In addition, sexual torture is now illegal.

The second bill, which doesn't have as cool a name as the first bill but which seems like a good idea all the same, bars people from throwing acid or other corrosive substances at women. Women who had been deformed by acid attacks testified at the hearing. According to the Express Tribune, dozens of Pakistani women are injured every year in acid attacks. Now, men who attack women in that manner will be subject to prison terms up to 14 years long.

Both bills passed unanimously.


Friday, January 27, 2012


Here is the simple truth:
Health care is vital.
It is a matter of life or death.
There is nothing more important.
Politics and "special interests "
Are the scourge of civilization.
The solution is simple -
Everyone pays according to their means.
Everyone receives according to their need.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012


In September, 2007, immediately following my mother's death, the Montreal Police knocked on my door and took me away for a "thirty-day mental evaluation". This action was the result of accusations made against me by a complete stranger named Kenneth Gregoire Prud'homme and Dawn McSweeney's mother, my youngest sister, Debbie, that won a court order granted by a Quebec judge without my knowledge or participation. All the details are reported here on my blogs which are being read by thousands of people around the world.
The following is copied exactly from my original notes, handwritten at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal at the end of September, 2007. 
Cliff Carter was my darling husband.
Ed is Dawn McSweeney's father.
It's 5:25 A.M. I am in a small room at the RVH. The two other women are snoring. I came upon this pen and paper by good fortune so I will record what I can.
It's June, 2007 - 28 or 29. The third day of my incarceration if I remember right. Two policemen knocked on my door and presented a COURT ORDER ! in which my sister Debbie accuses me of threatening her life. Later I was told that Debbie accuses me of planning or dreaming? of burning bldgs, murdering our parents ! She attributes to me the very actions that are actually what Ed has done! But the doctors don't know me and they seem to believe the accusations. So I must submit and live through this real life nightmare in the hope that the truth will become apparent soon. I look to the hills, from whence cometh my help? Where are my friends? What will happen to my reputation? Even after the truth is clearly revealed there will be a shadow over me for some people.
Debbie - What could cause our angel baby sister to concoct such a horrible slander? Is she so terrorized by Ed that he could force her to take such an outrageous vendetta against the only person who has been trying to protect her? Once you are accused of being insane, nothing you say carries any weight. The victim once again becomes the victim. Who can help Debbie? If she destroys me, how can she live with her guilt? Please God ! At least find a way to protect her from Ed. What way? I am the only person who has been trying to save her. The worst thing for me would be if the system releases me without proving the true story. Debbie will be in danger and I will be so badly tarnished that no one will trust my word. I find it so hard to believe that Debbie has changed so much that she is doing this to me by her own free will ! God help us.
The Third Day - 2 at JGH - (Jewish General Hospital) - Yesterday brought by ambulance to Royal Vic. Now 7:20 A.M. - the third day. Remi, the night nurse accommodated me with access to the shower, a small cup of liquid soap, towels - but the third day without a toothbrush ! I can never forget how Cliff's dental hygiene was neglected at all levels in the final months of his precious life. I blame myself too for not insisting that the CLSC care givers and nursing staff in the hospitals clean his teeth. There were other - more urgent - needs.
I feel better now that I have showered. It's almost 7:30 A.M. and Magda and the pretty dark-haired young woman who came in last night are still snoring. The attending helper kindly allowed me access to my belongings. When the police came, I was naked - about to shower. I had no time to wash. I shut the windows, turned off the T.V., the fan, the computer after sending an urgent email to Warren, Leslie, Eleanor and Diane. Put out all the lights. Check the kitchen. Throw on a bra, slacks, top, grab my bags, wallet. Throw in an extra pair of clean panties. Always prepare for the impossible. But the impossible is really happening now and I am glad I took the clean underwear.
Whew - a fast antacid and back to this. The women snore more loudly now as breakfast time approaches. We wonder how we will cope with the unforeseen - the unforeseeable ? Based on my experience, I cannot foresee justice. But I have hope. I remember my Night in Shelter Three. My circumstances were so much worse then.(This room is quite dark - only light from the hall through a small window.) Back then, after Cliff died, I was homeless, destitute, hungry, unemployed, grieving.
Oh! Yes. Grieving so intensely and social workers - young, so cold. And cancer ! I didn't know if I would live or die. And chemo - the very word makes me sick ! But I still hoped. My life was in boxes in my parents' home. If I could survive ... And then Dawn McSweeney stole everything - including my family. And now she reaches out from behind my sister Debbie and tries to tear away my reputation, my freedom, my self-esteem. But I am the keeper of my soul and, with God's help, one day, I will read this journal before an audience and let them taste what an innocent victim may suffer at the hands of those who covet and hate - the truth will out. This attempt to disgrace and silence me must fail. It is a desperate act because truth is truth and liars fear it.
In Shelter Three, I wrote one of the best essays of my life. Terrible situations can tear away all the distractions. I am lucky the attendant allowed me paper and pencil. No sharp objects for us - the "others" - the truly sick and those accused-of-madness. I think most people are unaware that, in an instant - in a flash, with the act of one wicked human being - your freedom can be snatched away from you. A knock at the door and it is gone. Your freedom is gone. Your credibility is gone. The work and deeds of a lifetime are gone. You are a prisoner - and worse - the shadow will follow you for the rest of your life. People who have known you for decades pass you by pretending they haven't noticed you, But one woman (at the JGH) who has just seen me in passing over the years - stopped to speak to me, to encourage me. I won't forget her. I don't know her name, but I will find a way to thank her for her kindness. Just a few words of respect.
After 8 A.M. and the women sleep. It is June, 2007 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. And I am - literally - a prisoner of the state. Where are my friends?
I am Phyllis Carter. The medical system calls me "Mrs. Rubin". God ! I am not my mother. My mother is dead. She has been dead for over a week now I think. But she has been dead to me for ten years. It's a long, tragic tale of mental illness and lies. How cruel for me to have failed to bring my flyers with me when the police came. If the psychiatrists had read the history would they get it? But Debbie told a judge a twisted tale and, in Canada, in 2007, she actually succeeded in obtaining a court order to have me seized and imprisoned in a mental hospital. Canada, 2007. Please God, let me see the day when I can tell the world about this. But will anyone care? A judge who never met me, never spoke to me, slashed my freedom and my reputation away from me with the stroke of a pen - in Montreal in the 21st century.
Beware you who DARE to speak the truth. If someone fears you or envies you, you are not safe anywhere. Remember Jesus. This piece of truth falling into the hands of those intent on having their own way could be judged as delusional, paranoid. Remember Jesus. How Dawn McSweeney detests Jesus ! She destroyed an entire family to punish me because I chose Jesus. I never would have imagined myself a martyr for Christ when my faith is so flimsy.
At the JGH yesterday, I left messages for my friends, Dr. Ben and Dr. I.S. Where are my friends?
9 A.M. The food trays have been delivered and the lights turned on, but the women sleep. My "pillow" is fastened to the bed by a heavy chain. I feel weak and queazie but with pencil and paper, at last, empowered again. Did Dawn think she could crush my spirit? I may be sad and worried, but as Paul said, "not destroyed". I am in good company.


January 25, 2012
Please share this one, this is serious cruelty.

Denmark is a big shame.

The sea is stained in red and it is not because of the climate effects of nature. It's because of the cruelty of the human beings (civilized human) who kill hundreds of the famous and intelligent Calderon dolphins.

This happens every year in Feroe Island in Denmark . In this slaughter the main participants are young teens.


A celebration, to show that they are adults and mature!

In this big celebration, nothing is missing for the fun. Everyone is participating in one way or the other, killing or looking at the cruelty supporting like a spectator

Is it necessary to mention that the dolphin Calderon, like all the other species of dolphins, it's near extinction and they get near men to play and interact.
In a way of PURE friendship.

They don't die instantly; they are cut 1, 2 or 3 times with thick hooks. And at that time the dolphins produce a grim cry like that of a new born child.

But he suffers and there's no compassion while this magnificent creature slowly dies in its own blood

Its enough!

We will publish until this post goes around the world that many more people will know about this shameful Danish acts.

Take care of the world, it is your home!

SHARE this messages as a sign against this cruelty
Kung saan, masaya tayong lahat!





What they really mean is -

We have all the money. Don't touch it !

Mitt Romney Releases His Tax Returns! He Made $42.7 Million -

Romney offshore accounts contain up to $32 million -


If you are a teacher, a caregiver,
A truck driver, a sales clerk,
What do you earn ?








To Best Buy Canada.
January 25, 2012
Hello Shannon,
Best Buy technician Pierre-Luc brought the replacement monitor yesterday. I was able to disassemble and repackage the Hungarian Samsung monitor and set up this new HP monitor on my own. But I was not able to program it, so I asked Pierre-Luc to come in and do it.
Pierre-Luc was very patient and pleasant. He worked at it diligently. I want to commend him. But there are still problems.
My original HP monitor  purchased with my computer at Best Buy Pointe Claire in July 2006 - 17 inch - HPVS17e - served me very well until it just stopped on January 7, 2012. I had no problems with that monitor. Best Buy Geek said it just burned out. As we all do with age.
That was when my troubles began. The Samsung sold to me at Best Buy spoke only Hungarian, and my reports explain what happened.
This new HP Monitor still presents the following problems.
1. Pierre-Luc did everything he could to make the adjustments, but when the fonts and icons appear a normal size on Facebook, they appear huge on my blogs and emails.
When readjusted, normal fonts on my blogs give teensy little 8 font texts on Facebook.
The icons on my desktop are minuscule where, before, they were huge.
There seems to be no way to get all things together in normal sizes.
Here is how we do it. Right click on Properties. Settings. General.
The graph offers a sliding scale for screen resolution - From Less to More pixels.
I usually use a 12 or 14 font which is comfortably legible for me.
When set at 800 X 600 - we get huge fonts on my blogs - perhaps 18 font for the text of a blog article.
When set at 1024 X 768 - in the middle of the sliding scale- the reverse is true.
The problem is that the set up does not allow for anything in between. 
So what we get is either huge text or tiny text - and teensy little icons - on the desktop for example.
2. Another problem - which I did not identify until this morning - is that the screen is supposed to be able to tip to provide a clear image. I have not been able to move it and I don't want to force it and risk damage. I did look at the instructions on the CD guide, but the print (pdf) is so tiny I can barely see it. I finally made out some of it by using a magnifying glass in one hand while operating the mouse with the other.
3. And here is something that makes no sense. The CD - in English, thank goodness - tells you how to set up the monitor. It makes no sense at all. If you have not already set up the monitor, you could not be reading the CD instructions on how to set up the monitor. The elimination of a printed guide is idiotic.
That is the picture at this moment.
I notice one more thing this morning -There are three tiny lights on the top right hand side of my Compaq keyboard - 1., A., and the last one, on the right, shows a down arrow.
Suddenly the first little light - 1 - that indicates when the keyboard is on - is not working for the first time. The light for capitals lights up, but not the first light. Everything else seems to be normal.
Phyllis Carter

Tuesday, January 24, 2012


I have just learned of the passing of Mary Straw. This was a truly great lady. She was mother and teacher and counsellor and priest to men, women and children shunned by most of society.
Over the years, I attended many of Mary's gatherings with her many "children" of all ages.  She was a remarkable woman who lived every day as a true disciple of Jesus. Her home was her church and a refuge for the weak and confused. There was always music and plenty of food for everyone and prayers and laughter. She was a soldier, though, and she ran a tight ship. No nonsense, but endless love.
Mary cannot be replaced, but I am hoping that those who assisted her through the years will find ways to continue supporting her flock. They will be lost without her.
Phyllis Carter

Mary Straw 

1925 - 2011 Mary Straw passed away peacefully on Sunday December 25th, 2011 in Georgetown, ON at the age of 86. Mary was a WW II veteran and was commissioned as a Captain in the Woman's Army Corps (India). Raised in Burma, she was evacuated from Rangoon to India during the Axis invasion. In tribute to the many missionaries that influenced Mary's early life, she was devoted to supporting her community. In 1966 she founded The Helen Tufts Nursery School in Kingston, ON and in 1973, a support group that became the Julia Kraft Celebration Centre in Pointe Claire, QC. In 1992, Mary was awarded the 125th Anniversary of the Confederation of Canada Medal as a Canadian who made a significant contribution to their fellow citizens, to their community or to Canada. Mary is survived by her children Peter James (Cynthia Asquith), Michael Austin, Mary Anne, her sister Lucy Butterfield, grandchildren, friends and the community.Mary will be interred with her late husband (Austin Joel Straw) at The Last Post Fund National Field of Honour in Pointe Claire, QC. A memorial celebration is to be planned for the near future. As an expression of sympathy, donations may be made to World Vision Canada or charity of choice.




Star Trek: The Next Generation

Episode: TNG 142 - Q Who?

This collective consciousness is experienced by the Borg as "thousands" of voices — they are collectively aware, but not aware of themselves as separate individuals. Consequently, they never speak in singular pronouns, referring to themselves when required as merely "Third of Five," for instance.



The real enemies of justice
Friends who tell us -
"Resistance is futile."
Shades of Star Trek !
With friends like that,
We don't need enemies.
Good philosophers, like eagles,
Fly alone,
And not in flocks.
Our lives begin to end
The day we become silent
about things that matter.
Martin Luther King Jr.
The only thing needed
For evil to triumph,
Is for good men
(and women)
To do nothing.
Edmond Burke
You've gotta have heart,
All you really need is heart;
When the odds are saying
You'll never win,
That's when the grin should start.
Jason Mraz
Damn Yankees
If it were easy to do good,
Everyone would do good.
Those who try to discourage us
From fighting for justice
Are not our friends.
Phyllis Carter

Monday, January 23, 2012


Phyllis Mass Carter
From the Journal of an Incurable Job Hunter
Curriculum Vitae
Phyllis Mass Carter  - Canadian. Widow
Professional Journalist/Editorialist/ Reporter/Lyricist
Professional Private Investigator
Public Speaker/Coach/Speech writer
Professional Photographer
Executive Assistant
Formerly Comfortable Montreal West Island Suburbanite
Unemployed due to being "Overqualified" and "Anglo"
In Montreal, Quebec -
And due to "The Recession."
Here, after midnight,
Strangers keep coughing in the dark;
I hear syncopated snoring in the dark;
A peculiar girl is laughing in her sleep;
An old man with a shaggy beard weeps.
A strapping fellow with solid biceps
And wild eyes
Mills about in his undershirt,
Cursing much and mightily
At no one in particular.
A distraught spinster leaps from her cot,
Quoting scripture and raving -
"The Lord will see you all in Hell for this !"
And here am I,
In the midst of this congregation
Of derelicts, alcoholics and drug addicts.
I feel separate - out of place - disassociated,
And small,
And scared -
And I keep very still.
Wrapped in a blanket,
Afraid to lie down,
I sit curled up tight
In a worn upholstered chair,
Behind rows of discarded chesterfields
That reek of stale tobacco,
And the pungent perspiration
Of the tormented and the dispossessed.
(Earlier, I noticed someone had written
"WORMS" on the lunch menu.)
My few possessions are in Locker 33 -
Safe -
But the Keeper keeps the key,
And the Keeper is a stranger
To me.
I keep my eye on 33
Through the smokey blackness.
1:15 A.M.
I watch the silhouette of
The wild-eyed one with the biceps,
As he paces erratically in the dark,
Growling his angry epithets -
Stringing them out -
Like long lines of dirty laundry.
(I never realized there were so many
Obscene words in the French language.)
The acrid odors blend together -
An environmental hazard -
A filthy fog
That envelopes me and invades my senses.
2:20 A.M.
Suddenly someone switches on the T.V.
A sharp blast of Fifes and Drums
Stuns me with Sousa !
4:05 A.M.
I drift into my memory,
Seeking the sweet solace
Of my precious husband's arms.
I won't cry. I will NOT !
But closed eyelids can't filter out
The putrid stench of wasting human lives.
Where is the dawn  ?
Copyright Phyllis Mass Carter - Ottawa - May, 1993 - All rights reserved by the author.
I wrote this piece in May, 1993. I asked, "Where is the dawn?"
I could not have foreseen that, on October 7, 1996, widowed and sick with cancer, I would be robbed of everything I worked for all my life by Dawn McSweeney and see my family and my health destroyed with the help of the Montreal Police.
I called this piece Shelter Three because it was the third shelter I had stayed in while struggling to find work. This was one year after my darling husband died and just weeks before I fell ill with cancer.


Long before there was Stephen Colbert,
There was Will Rogers


Will Rogers

1879 - 1935

On account of being a democracy and run by the people,
We are the only nation in the world
That has to keep a government for four years -
No matter what it does.
A fool and his money are soon elected.

This country has come to feel the same when Congress is in session,
As when the baby gets hold of a hammer.



 1 Woe to those who make unjust laws,
   to those who issue oppressive decrees,
2 to deprive the poor of their rights
   and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people,
making widows their prey
   and robbing the fatherless.
3 What will you do on the day of reckoning,
   when disaster comes from afar?
To whom will you run for help?
   Where will you leave your riches?

Isaiah 10: 1-3



January 23, 2012
In Canada how do you get a case reopened when you know it is murder and the people that are supposed to help you turn there backs....Tell me...How is a drunk girl wrap a swing chain around her neck TWICE..Prove to me it can be done...No breaking nails...thongs neatly at her feet....OMG...Maybe because it happened tooooo close to a police station....She was autopsied before her mom even knew and the police lost evidence....HELP US
Sarah  - I wish I could help .... maybe make an appeal with the courts of criminal Justice. I must also say that asking for any help from faceBook is almost impossible. There are very few that care, because it never happens to them. I am going to make a complaint against the judge in my case for not considering all the evidence. Good luck! 
Phyllis Carter   Everything in our "legal" systems - Canada-USA - is about MONEY. Time is money. Therefore our laws cut out anything that takes time - such as evidence. No evidence should be inadmissible. But our systems have no time for justice - only for profit for the lawyers and the politicians. Notice the winks and the handshakes. The lawyers who defy each other in court enjoy cocktails together afterward - and fishing and golf trips. Do I have evidence to support my claims? No. I am a simple sceptic - full of awareness and experience.


January 23, 2012
This 15 year old girl has been missing since yesterday 1/19/2012. She was last seen going to the light rail as she does daily to get to school and back home. We have filed police reports and we are being told that she isn't classified as being kidnapped therefore there cannot be issued an amber alert...

Sunday, January 22, 2012



Capitalism's Real Gravediggers

Beware the 'Gush-Up Gospel' Behind India's Billionaires

Is it a house or a home? A temple to the new India, or a warehouse for its ghosts? Ever since Antilla arrived on Altamount Road in Mumbai, exuding mystery and quiet menace, things have not been the same. "Here we are," the friend who took me there said, "pay your respects to our new ruler."

Antilla Mansion on Altamount Road in Mumbai

Antilla belongs to India's richest man, Mukesh Ambani. I'd read about this, the most expensive dwelling ever built, the 27 floors, three helipads, nine lifts, hanging gardens, ballrooms, weather rooms, gymnasiums, six floors of parking, and the 600 servants. Nothing had prepared me for the vertical lawn – a soaring wall of grass attached to a vast metal grid. The grass was dry in patches, bits had fallen off in neat rectangles. Clearly, "trickle down" had not worked.

But "gush-up" has. That's why in a nation of 1.2bn, India's 100 richest people own assets equivalent to a quarter of gross domestic product.

The word on the street (and in The New York Times) is, or at least was, that the Ambanis were not living in Antilla. Perhaps they are there now, but people still whisper about ghosts and bad luck, vastu and feng shui. I think it's all Marx's fault. Capitalism, he said, " ... has conjured up such gigantic means of production and of exchange, it is like the sorcerer who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells".

In India, the 300m of us who belong to the new, post-"reforms" middle class – the market – live side by side with the ghosts of 250,000 debt-ridden farmers who have killed themselves, and of the 800m who have been impoverished and dispossessed to make way for us. And who survive on less than 50 cents a day.

Mr Ambani is personally worth more than $20bn. He has a controlling majority stake in Reliance Industries Limited (RIL), a company with a market capitalisation of Rs2.41tn ($47bn) and an array of global business interests. RIL has a 95 per cent stake in Infotel, which a few weeks ago bought a major share in a media group that runs television news and entertainment channels. Infotel owns the only national 4G broadband licence. He also has a cricket team.

RIL is one of a handful of corporations, some family-owned, some not, that run India. Some of the others are Tata, Jindal, Vedanta, Mittal, Infosys, Essar and the other Reliance (ADAG), owned by Mukesh's brother Anil. Their race for growth has spilt across Europe, central Asia, Africa and Latin America. The Tatas, for example, run more than 100 companies in 80 countries. They are one of India's largest private-sector power companies.

Since the cross-ownership of businesses is not restricted by the "gush-up gospel" rules, the more you have, the more you can have. Meanwhile, scandal after scandal has exposed, in painful detail, how corporations buy politicians, judges, bureaucrats and media houses, hollowing out democracy, retaining only its rituals. Huge reserves of bauxite, iron ore, oil and natural gas worth trillions of dollars were sold to corporations for a pittance, defying even the twisted logic of the free market. Cartels of corrupt politicians and corporations have colluded to underestimate the quantity of reserves, and the actual market value of public assets, leading to the siphoning off of billions of dollars of public money. Then there's the land grab – the forced displacement of communities, of millions of people whose lands are being appropriated by the state and handed to private enterprise. (The concept of inviolability of private property rarely applies to the property of the poor.) Mass revolts have broken out, many of them armed. The government has indicated that it will deploy the army to quell them.

Corporations have their own sly strategy to deal with dissent. With a minuscule percentage of their profits they run hospitals, educational institutes and trusts, which in turn fund NGOs, academics, journalists, artists, film-makers, literary festivals and even protest movements. It is a way of using charity to lure opinion-makers into their sphere of influence. Of infiltrating normality, colonising ordinariness, so that challenging them seems as absurd (or as esoteric) as challenging "reality" itself. From here, it's a quick, easy step to "there is no alternative".

The Tatas run two of the largest charitable trusts in India. (They donated $50m to that needy institution the Harvard Business School.) The Jindals, with a major stake in mining, metals and power, run the Jindal Global Law School, and will soon open the Jindal School of Government and Public Policy. Financed by profits from the software giant Infosys, the New India Foundation gives prizes and fellowships to social scientists.

Capitalism's real gravediggers, it turns out, are not Marx's revolutionary proletariat but its own delusional cardinals, who have turned ideology into faith.

Having worked out how to manage the government, the opposition, the courts, the media and liberal opinion, what remains to be dealt with is the growing unrest, the threat of "people power". How do you domesticate it? How do you turn protesters into pets? How do you vacuum up people's fury and redirect it into blind alleys? The largely middle-class, overtly nationalist anti-corruption movement in India led by Anna Hazare is a good example. A round-the-clock, corporate-sponsored media campaign proclaimed it to be "the voice of the people". It called for a law that undermined even the remaining dregs of democracy. Unlike the Occupy Wall Street movement, it did not breathe a word against privatisation, corporate monopolies or economic "reforms". Its principal media backers successfully turned the spotlight away from huge corporate corruption scandals and used the public mauling of politicians to call for the further withdrawal of discretionary powers from government, for more reforms and more privatisation.

After two decades of these "reforms" and of phenomenal but jobless growth, India has more malnourished children than anywhere else in the world, and more poor people in eight of its states than 26 countries of sub-Saharan Africa put together. And now the international financial crisis is closing in. The growth rate has plummeted to 6.9 per cent. Foreign investment is pulling out.

Capitalism's real gravediggers, it turns out, are not Marx's revolutionary proletariat but its own delusional cardinals, who have turned ideology into faith. They seem to have difficulty comprehending reality or grasping the science of climate change, which says, quite simply, that capitalism (including the Chinese variety) is destroying the planet.

"Trickle down" failed. Now "gush-up" is in trouble too. As early stars appear in Mumbai's darkening sky, guards in crisp linen shirts with crackling walkie-talkies appear outside the forbidding gates of Antilla. The lights blaze on. Perhaps it is time for the ghosts to come out and play.