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Album: Miscellaneous (1994)
Artists: Propaghandi

  1. A People's History Of The World
  2. Albright Monument, Bagdhad
  3. Anchorless
  4. And We Thought That Nation-States Were A Bad Idea
  5. Anti-Manifesto
  6. Apparently, I'm A "P.C. Fascist" (Because I Care About Both Human And Non-Human Animals)
  7. Back To The Motor League
  8. Bullshit Politicians
  9. Death Of Manolete *
  10. Ego Fum Papa (I Am The Pope)
  11. Fuck The Border
  12. Gifts
  13. Hate, Myth, Muscle, Etiquette
  14. Head, Chest Or Foot?
  15. I Was A Pre-Teen McCarthyist
  16. Ladies' Nite In Loserville
  17. Less Talk, More Rock
  18. March Of The Crabs
  19. Mate Ka Moris Ukun Rasik An
  20. Middle Finger Response
  21. Nailing Descartes To The Wall/(Liquid) Meat Is Still Murder
  22. Natural Disasters
  23. New Homes For Idle Hands
  24. Ordinary People Do Fucked-up Things When Fucked-up Things Become Ordinary
  25. Pigs Will Pay
  26. Public Dis-Service Announcement From Shell
  27. Purina Hall Of Fame
  28. Refusing To Be A Man
  29. Resisting Tyrannical Government
  30. Rio De San Atlanta, Manitoba
  31. Showdown (G.E./P.)
  32. Ska Sucks
  33. Stick The Fucking Flag Up Your Goddamn Ass, You Sonofabitch
  34. The Only Good Fascist Is A Very Dead Fascist
  35. The State Lottery
  36. Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes
  37. With Friends Like These, Who The Fuck Needs Cointelpro?


Propaghandi
Miscellaneous
Albright Monument, Bagdhad
Wadia's best friend's youngest sister was denied a proper burial because for two days they couldn't douse the flames the allied planes had showered on her tiny body. And all the paper trails that lead to all the roads that lead to all these Basras make it seem like we're all just "collateral damage" waiting to be happened in some unforeseen Pentagon budget-drill. Today's Ba'ath regime is just the Red Scare of yesteryear. And I drink myself to sleep because I'm losing faith that any of us will ever amount to anything more than reluctant human subsidies, the moving parts in a death-machine, protesting their complicity, but waiting for somebody else to throw their body on the churning gears. I drink myself to sleep because I'm losing faith that we, here in the Cradle of Affluence can cease this sickening drive for individual strength through state-powers' swinging fists or that we'll ever look back and laugh at the irony that is: an atomic murderer is enshrined in Independence, USA while 8000 miles from here (back in the Cradle of Democracy) it's another banner year for a cottage industry – a ritual at the corner of George and Constantine - as foundries scramble to recast his decapitated monument.
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