Jeffrey St. Clair is a co-editor at CounterPunch. He focuses on themes such as security and law enforcement, geopolitics, and international affairs, while also addressing issues related to culture, society, and animal cruelty. Jeffrey's work has been featured in KEN DRAPER, Arizona Daily Star, and CounterPunch.
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Jeffrey St. Clair's coverage primarily focuses on government & politics and culture & society, with a significant emphasis on legal policy regulation and expert commentary. His articles often cover international relations, diplomacy, political crisis, and foreign policy.
Given his focus on legal policy regulation and expert commentary within the realm of government & politics and culture & society topics like international relations, diplomacy, political crisis, foreign policy; he would likely be receptive to pitches from individuals who have expertise in these areas. If you can provide unique insights or commentary related to ongoing geopolitical events or societal issues with a legal/regulatory angle in the United States or globally, it could resonate well with him.
As Jeffrey's geographic focus is national (United States), consider tailoring your outreach to reflect this scope if relevant to your pitch.
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“History is what hurts.” – Frederic Jameson It was 92 in the shade and we fled to the nearest theater to escape the heat and the shrouds of smoke from
By: Jeffrey St. Clair
US Huey Helicopter in Laos. Photo: Captain Billie D Tedford, USAF. At 7:30 a.m., on March 16, 1968, Task Force Barker descended on the small hamlet of My
On August fifth, Lola and I went for our morning walk. It didn’t feel like morning. It was too hot for morning. It didn’t smell like morning. The winds had shifted overnight. Instead of blowing off the Pacific, they were now coming from the northeast. From central Washington. From Spokane, when Spokane was burning. We were looking at a sky scrimmed with smoke from the fires of Spokane, three hundred and fifty miles away. We were inhaling the ashes of the Lilac City, the smell of lilacs in the dooryards burned, Walt Whitman’s song of the “bleeding throat” come to call.
On August fifth, Lola and I went for our morning walk. It didn’t feel like morning. It was too hot for morning. It didn’t smell like morning. The winds had shifted overnight. Instead of blowing off the Pacific, they were now coming from the northeast. From central Washington. From Spokane, when Spokane was burning. We were looking at a sky scrimmed with smoke from the fires of Spokane, three hundred and fifty miles away. We were inhaling the ashes of the Lilac City, the smell of lilacs in the dooryards burned, Walt Whitman’s song of the “bleeding throat” come to call. More
A tyrant institutionalizes stupidity, but he is the first servant of his own system and the first to be installed within it. – Gilles Delueze + The best
The French novelist Honoré de Balzac hid from his creditors for nearly seven years on the top floor of a house on the Rue Berton in the Passy district of
+ On June 21, Israeli forces raided the home of Dr. Mazen Al-Rantisi. Rantisi is known throughout the West Bank as the Doctor of the Poor, nicknamed for
In 1930, Henry Miller arrived in Paris with only a razor, toothbrush, pen, notebook and walking stick to his name. He set up shop on the Villa Seurat, a
By: Jeffrey St. Clair
On January 29, 2024, the family of Hind Rijab, a five-year-old Palestinian girl from Gaza Cityl fled their neighborhood after getting an evacuation order
I don't think of Dave Marsh as a "music writer" or "rock critic." Yes, nearly all of Marsh's books, of which there are several shelves worth, take music as their jumping-off point. But what he was really writing about was life in America. He was a writer whose interests–political, aesthetic and economic–extended far beyond clickbait-like disputes over what bands were better, the Dead or Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, The Who or The Clash. He wanted to explore what artists like Springsteen and the Dead said about the culture that produced them and the fans who embraced or rejected them and why. Music for Marsh was a gateway to writing about American culture in the age of neoliberalism: its systemic racism, its social and economic inequalities, its prisons and cop-haunted streets, its war-making machines and, perhaps most vitally, how people, especially America’s youth cultures, were fighting to take control of their own future and throw off the shackles that circumscribed their lives, even as the odds were stacked heavily, even lethally, against them.
