12 of the 15 current members of the UN security council voted last year to refer Darfur crimes to the International Criminal Court.
The US was not one of the dozen. This is due to American ideological aversion to the ICC.
According to US policy, no American is ever going to stand trial for war crimes in The Hague. So they won't support calls for other citizens to be sent there either. Instead they propose an adhoc tribunal to be based in conjunction with the Rwandan genocide trials in Arusha, Tanzania. They claim this would represent African as opposed to European justice.
This is a spurious claim. Most OAU (Organisation of African Unity) countries are totally behind the ICC and in any case the Arusha set-up is struggling to hold the existing Rwandan workload let alone add the Sudanese cases.
The infrastructure is simply not there to support it. America needs to get over its ideological problems and at the very least abstain from the security council vote on the matter so that the ICC can immediately get to work to investigate Janjaweed atrocities.
Why can’t a woman ascend to the Chrysanthemum Throne?
Where does a bird learn to sing on its own?
Bad cess to you, boy
Plumage unearned, ragtailed bobble-bottomed rammed hard into gaps in entrails
Little by little big smoke
Peacefire, chicken wire, gun for hire, congenital liar
Shangri-la douche bag raises the flag
On a dirty little jungle island
Wispy rivers, cottonmouths with pints of stout
Standing fast in your underwear
Looking for someone to punish me
Kicks back from what went wrong
Nomina patria, Big Dominatrix
Bags of cats in the river
Silt in the delta and the sky’s abloom with Cepheids
Planets a-plenty, stars and cars
The Texan is bandaged up on the road to Damascus
New Jerusalem in England’s green unpleasant land
As I understand the filth within me
I fertilise it and give it a name
Henry the Fourth parts with one
Happy Hal in muftiprince
The Hotspur proxy
Delivering Dad from all evil
Pains with pawns
And a note left in the soil for grasshoppers
Gnomes that will never hurt me
That old schticky stick-and-so
I renege myself from all poorly understood ritual
Monkeys will stop themselves
But know not what they fear
I will land softly on a rock
between the pleasure and the peter principles
God aims high, I’ve found out after I die
The odds are stacked in my flavours
Bookmakers, bribetakers and orgasm fakers
The mind in the trees brought to my knees
A bimbo akimbo in limbo
Spancilled in the grease of a mother’s apron
Largesse in the bush
Love ya, Dubya
Twang upstairs, cash on delivery
Subscribers to the same idea
God bless all who live here
Humidity rising, kamekaze isobars
Hectopascals, camelopards in cami-knickers
White chamois waving not blinking
Straight from the glass
A yardarm of aliens
In a segue from Ivan Ivanich Ivanov
White Russian, unknown soulmate
Best we forget