US drones targeting suspected militants have fired missiles killing about thirty people in Pakistan's troubled South Waziristan, leaving dozens injured.
The Wednesday strike was the second drone attack of the day in the area controlled by Pakistan militant chief Baitullah Mahsud.
The death toll is expected to rise as some of the injured are said to be in critical condition.
At least 14 people were killed during a similar attack earlier in the day which took place in the same region near the Afghan border.
Hundreds of Pakistanis have lost their lives in such attacks, which started under the Bush administration in 2006.
Officials in Islamabad have long denounced the strikes on their soil.
http://www.presstv.ir/detail.aspx?id=100136§ionid=351020401
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Pilger called it right Sister, "Afpak."
ReplyDeleteAnother senseless war and yet more bloodshed, and the media remains silent. No, actually they have been very busy, covering the Michael Jackson ceremony.
Heading on close to 800 innocent Pakistani people who've been killed.
That's real change.
http://articles.latimes.com/2009/may/05/world/fg-pakistan-summit5
Yep, as always, the corporate media only reports that one or two soldiers killed...right after they killed a hundred or two innocent women and children.
ReplyDeleteI think Obama has fooled the Arab world much more than he's fooled the American people.
Forward he cried
ReplyDeletefrom the rear
and the front rank died
And the generals sat
and the lines on the map
moved from side to side
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/18/world/americas/18iht-web-rose.html?_r=1&pagewanted=print
Nice Pink Floyd quote from The Dark Side of the Moon; here are two more:
ReplyDeletetake all your overgrown infants away somewhere
and build them a home, a little place of their own
the fletcher memorial home for incurable tyrants and kings
and they can appear to themselves every day
on closed circuit t.v.
to make sure they're still real
it's the only connection they feel
"ladies and gentlemen, please welcome reagan and haig
mr. begin and friend mrs. thatcher and paisley
mr. brezhnev and party
the ghost of mccarthy
the memories of nixon
and now adding colour a group of anonymous latin
american meat packing glitterati"
did they expect us to treat them with any respect
they can polish their medals and sharpen their
smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for a while
boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead
safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
with their favourite toys
they'll be good girls and boys
in the fletcher memorial home for colonial
wasters of life and limb
is everyone in?
are you having a nice time?
now the final solution can be applied
(The Fletcher Memorial Home, from "the Final Cut" album)
You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.
And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you'll pack up, fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer.
And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest that you've sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it's too late to loose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, alone
Dragged down by the stone.
I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everythings done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.
Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone.
'Dogs' from the album "Animals"