Free Association Sunday (and "Open Thread"?)

What a beautiful day it's been here in our awesome High Desert! Sunshine and our beloved dry heat (Only about 85 or so). Did a lil grocery shopping at our little local IGA market and came home and made egg salad sammies. Yummmmm! My GirlyBoi is making dinner now, and it smells la-la-liscious! (It's a kind of "Goulash" dish made with ground beef and zuccini with italian tomatoes and seasoning. We eat it hot with a generous dollop of sour cream.)

We've had a great time rewatching (re-viewing?) the Debate and the MSNBC post debate analysis, and really picking apart each answer (or non answer), as well as the media interviewers and their various biases.

I'm still in love with Mike Gravel. I find him refreshingly honest, charming, pointed and funny. He makes an even bigger impression during the post debate show where he attempts to answer where he's been for the last 35 years. His reply was "Under a Rock for the last 10". Forgive my paraphrase, but basically he said that when he left congress he was discouraged by his feeling of total failure to make a difference after being sucked into the political posturing and corruption. It took him some time to realize that he was part of alot of good things, and that it's important to put the power back in the hands of the american people. He actually called out Chris (somebody-or-other MSNBC guy) and said that Chris should be better making the decisions than out so-called representatives!!! Ha!!! I loved him!

Okay, I'm gonna do the Holllaaaah thing now for: The Existentialist Cowboy for his eloquent Op/Ed entitled How Bush lost the war, encouraged terrorists, and weakened the American military. He's already on my blogroll, if you haven't checked him out, do. If you have, go back and read this article!!!! Killer!!

Also I want to say a big, giant thank you to Dez for adding me to her blogroll! Wow. I'm blown away by the super excellent people who have been linking and rolling me. I want to thank her also for her very explicit (and very necessary for me) instructions on how to add The Fallen
.gif she has up at her blog.

My new favorite Priest is a Mad one over at Of course, I could be wrong... (Don't you just love that title?? I mean... really- have you ever heard a preacher say that before??) Welcome, MadPriest, as my token Clergy! (Be careful of this godsfull heathen lesbian... I might just bite yer butt!)

Oh!! PJ!! (That's capital "P", capital "J") This gal wandered over from OCICBW (above) and not only does she LOVE NIN, I found this:

Abortions are nasty. But forcing a woman to carry a pregnancy to term—if she can't afford to, if it threatens her health, if the pregnancy occurred through rape or incest, or if she just flat-out doesn't want to go through with it—is a violation of human rights. No individual, no church, no state, has the right to use a woman's body as a vessel without regard for the woman who already inhabits it.

at her blog, pointless
Pointless?
I don't think so.

And thanks to BlueGal, I have discovered this bright spirit of Improvisations: Arab Woman Progressive Voice
News and Commentary on Arab Women, Palestine, Cultural Politics, and Everything in Between. This woman describes herself and her blog thusly:

These are improvisations: neither a manifesto nor a treatise because life is too complicated for either. Yet, I'm improvising as an Arab--Palestinian-- woman with a progressive point of view always under construction. Since I often find myself caught between anti-Arab racism and arab reactionary politics, both of which threaten to gag me, I'm raising my voice against both, hoping in the process to contribute an improvised note to a progressive Arab blogosphere.

The first sitting of my blackwork sleeve. (Sorry for the crazy pic. I took it myself and didn't edit it upright. Just turn your laptop sideways... or your head)In homage to my Syrian ancestry. The central image is the word "Peace" in stylized Arabic. The theme for this sleeve is multi cultural graphic symbology which represents my ideals of wholeness and untiy and love and magick. (Stay tuned. I'll post more pics as I have the work done. Also, let me give credit where credit is due. The ink is my daughter's (and apprentice's) first attempt at tattooing living flesh. Kudos, Fawn!!!)

I'm sure I haven't mentioned this, previously, but I am of Syrian ancestry. I think I haven't mentioned it only because it's only mildly relevant to/part of - my self image. I'm pretty much an american "mutt"; Syrian, French, Welsh and Irish. (Dad Syrian and Welsh-Mom French and Irish). I consider my ethnicity only within the context of surveys, applications and bigotry. I'm not "white" or even "Caucasian", but I don't really fall into any of the other ethnic classifications, either. If I do have to check a box, it's "other". When we all decided that "Blacks" were no longer "blacks", but "African Americans", (Or in the case of my son in law, "Egyptian American" ?? Go fucking figure!!) I played with the thought that I'm still a mix. Somewhere between a "Middle East and European American"! It's fucking insane. I'm a global citizen! I'm a woman!!! A human-fucking-bean!!
Anyway, I'm likin' this Arab woman.


I checked in on Ro's blog for a few lil blurbs (so nice... no long winded soliloquies, just short, sweet comments and questions) and found this lil Ode to Ro. I love it.

Gary writes:

truth teller
wild woman
mama girl
unafraid
standin up
4 those that cant
speakin up
4 those who r silenced
hopin we all
learn a little better
to see the world
thru rosie-colored
glasses

Another thought provoking question from "Wanda"

Ro
Ro
Ro
Ro
Do u know another name for first responders? Witnesses.

Yup. This has been a pretty damned "free" association. Time for some mindless TV, or maybe a movie. G'nite all! Everybody please comment! Talk, write, cite, opine, link, joke, flame, bait... whatever. It's a Free for ALL!!

Mike Gravel in 2008!!!

I can't help it!! I love this guy! I know he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell, but I REALLY wish he did. I'm sure he's a big fat liar like the rest of them (oohhhh that Obama's just a lil too slick for me), but at least Gravel sounds sincere doing it!!!

clipped from www.youtube.com

In keeping with today's theme (kinda)

2nd Annual Walk Against Rape.
What part of "no" didn't you understand??

clipped from www.flickr.com 4.28.07 I raised $1400, thanks to my many super duper generous friends. And three of my favorite wimmin walked with me. Thank you!

Venusday Love (or: Sexual Saturnday)

Now that's waht I call sexy!!!
*Image note: Via betmo via dizzy dezzi.

I woke up early this morning and made our coffee. It’s nice to "spoiler" instead of the "spoilee" once in awhile. (And to be honest, it always comes with many rewards!!) The kids are enjoying their little family out in their trailer today, with Aaron home from work for the weekend, and that leaves the lesbian Grama and Grammy free for another Sensual Saturnday! In a bit, just a little later, I’m going to read these stories (all three) to my GirlyBoi and see if I can’t spoil her a little more.

I’m likin’ this new embed a song deal. Thanks again to betmo for doing the research and passing along the info.

Today’s song is raw and powerful. Not for all tastes, but a worthwhile listen to expand one’s mind if for no other reason. The GirlyBoi says: “The music’s alright, but the lyrics suck”. My hopelessly romantic Butch!! She’s so sweet. (But luckily for me, she does know how to do it, even if she doesn’t care to listen to songs about it) because I, on the other hand, can really get behind the primal sort of passion expressed in this song. I mean, I love to make love, but every once in awhile a serious fuck is definitely in order. I like the “Closer to god” reference, too, and love the expression of getting to that Mystical Union place from raw animalistic fucking, instead of the usual sort of romantic and Tantric descriptions. In Thorne’s World, both ways are valid avenues of approach. It also speaks to the addict/escapist part of me, as nothing gets me out of my own head like serious animal style fucking!

So have a listen, and do comment! I’d love to hear how others feel about this. (The last verse is practically whispered. You’ll have to wear headphones or just take my word for the lyrics).

Artist: Nine Inch Nails
Album: Closer To God
Title: Closer




you let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you

(help me) i broke apart my insides,
(help me) i've got no soul to sell
(help me) the only thing that works for me,
(help me) get away from myself

i want to fuck you like an animal
i want to feel you from the inside
i want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed

you get me closer to god

you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything

(help me) you tear down my reason,
(help me) its' your sex i can smell
(help me) you make me perfect,
(help me) become somebody else

i want to fuck you like an animal
i want to feel you from the inside
i want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed

you get me closer to god

(through every forest, above the trees
within my stomach, scraped off my knees
i drink the honey, inside your hive
you are the reason, i stay alive)

Today, in honor of my GirlyBoi and her sweet sensitivities, I’m going to start with a well written piece of Xena Warrior Princess fan fiction.

A little backstory for those who may not know. Although the characters of Xena and Gabrielle are portrayed as “straight” during the 6 season TV series, (albeit with a few bits of subtle and not-so-subtle innuendo), they commanded a large lesbian audience due to the theme of deep love and mutual “completion” that the two characters experience. There is a huge fandom, many of which who write fan-fic under various sub genres from “uber” (X and G set in different times/reincarnations, etc), and “classic”, (stories that generally follow the storyline and characters of the series) and then to sort of sub sub genres of “alternative” (exploring the erotic/sexual love between the two women) as well as “erotic” (general sex straight and gay and bdsm, etc.) These are kind of general categories. The writers and collectors are, for the most part amateurs, so the genres and sub genres aren’t always clear. Nonetheless, there are some decent writers in the bunch, a few of whom have gone on to be published. The most inclusive example of Xena FanFic I’ve discovered resides here, at The Bard's Corner

A very well written story by Linda Crist, entitled Wings of Love is sweetly erotic without being descriptively sexual, and gives a lovely insight into the type of romantic sexuality that many lesbian Xena and Gabby fans (among them my GirlyBoi) enjoy. I have to admit that that as an avid reader as well as a very imaginitive and visual person, I do enjoy this type of implied erotica since I get tired of the limited vocabulary of much of the harder stuff.

That said, here is another Xena/Gabrielle story with a bit more “meat” to sink your teeth into. This one is by Klancy7 and is entitled Warriors In Need and includes a “Disclaimers for mild violence, and implied, but not genuine, nonconsensual sex”

On another topic entirely, but keeping in theme of Venudsay Love (aka Sexual Saturnday), the next story seemed particularly apropos after watching the Barbara Walters 20/20 show on trans kids. It was touching and incredibly courageous.

So, I offer a reasonably unique trans story entitled Transsexual Temptation And Straight Desire for your fun and possible edification.

Guys, (males; men), do give this one a try. It’s pretty sexy and you might just be surprised. Grrrllls... it worked for me too with just a tiny tweak of my usual imagination.

Have a great Venusday, everyone and remember:

Make Love, Not War!!!!

Say What You Mean, and Mean What You say... (Or: Thorne Gets Honest)

Say What You Mean, and Mean What You say... (Or: Thorne Gets Honest)


I know, I know; I just can’t seem to come up with a simple title. Always “this... or: that” (What can I say; I’m a complex person) Not feelin’ too jokey right now. Actually may be trying a little to avoid facing my real topic today. It’s a tough one.

Well, they don’t call me “Cleopatra” for nothin’, so I’ll just work my way into this one slowly. Let’s start with how awesome it is that Rosie’s moving on from The View. It was a great year, and I feel certain that Ro reached a demographic that wouldn’t otherwise have had the opportunity to have their minds and hearts opened a little, namely stay at home moms who got to discover that lesbian moms aren’t much different than them. I can’t wait to see what she has up her sleeve next, but I hope she’ll continue speaking her truth.

Oh, I simply don’t have the heart for babble with this huge issue so much in my heart and mind.

Here goes.

If you’ve been reading you know that my daughter has just recently given birth to my beautiful grandson. I don’t know that I’ve said much about the recent abortion legislation here, but I’ve been addressing it almost continuously since it passed in other places, like this thread at Clipmarks entitled Aborted “Fetus” Speaks Out,
and this thread, Supremes Counter Women's Rights where I waded through a sludge of ignorant dogma and attacks (and stooped to a few, myself) along with a few other rational folks and a number of idiots.


The whole while I’m fuming and freaking about the fact that this right wing religious fundamentalist government has managed to sneak this piece of VERY strategic legislation through in order to chip away at the small rights we’ve so tenuously held on to since Roe v Wade, that they have managed not only to insinuate themselves into my body, but into my OB/Gyn’s office and legislate how/if and under what circumstances s/he may treat me...

(damn, take a breath Thorne! That’s a long sentance. They don’t call me the comma queen fer nuthin’! And on we go!)

... I am also living in hope and fear and anticipation and worry about my daughter’s difficult pregnancy. ( A lil backstory) A couple of health professionals had previously told my girl that she would find it difficult to conceive and carry. Unbeknown to us, she is Rh negative. This presents a number of health hazards for both mother and baby. Further, she lost 15 lbs in the first trimester, was sick and often unable to eat during the pregnancy, and her weight went up and down over 10 lbs. from month to month. There were scheduling messups at the OB, she didn’t receive her rogam (sp?) shot until a month after the time it was due, and she wasn’t healthy enough to have blood banked for her in case of an emergency.

Anyway, you get the picture, right? Worry. Fear.
I’m a MOM! She is my only child. Mama bear!!! Protect my child!!

Get it? Okay. Enough backstory; let’s get down to it.

Every day in the last weeks that I face this issue of religious legislation, every day that I read the thoughts of those religious fanatics that would impost their biblical “morality” on the rest of us, every word of their dogma, their unwillingness to answer to the fact that their so called “pro-life” stance is NOT “pro-life”, it’s “pro-fetus” and thereby “anti-woman”... every moment, all this while, I am facing the possibility that we may have to choose between the potential life of this precious child... this fetus which has become our precious Bishop... and the life of my daughter.

And ugly as it is, the thought that growled out of me with a violence and passion and vehemence the likes of which I have ever only experienced when my daughter has been in danger, the thought that practically screams from me each time I let my guard down, is:

“ I would tear that fetus limb by limb from my daughter with my bare hands to save her life”.

I am a MOM! She is my only child. I must protect my child!!

I have to admit that in my own heart I was at peace with my feelings. I accepted them as a perfectly normal response for me. I have always known that I would kill or die for my child. I prayed I wouldn't have to make this choice, but was firm in what my decision would be, were I forced to make it.

What I was unable to do as I faced this blog every day, was admit it here. At the time I wasn’t sure if that was a result of the fact that this is a public diary, a public venue in which I share myself, and my fear that I would alienate even friendly readers by voicing aloud, so to speak, a thought so horrendous; or if it was a simple result of my unwillingness to write my biggest fear and somehow make it real by doing so.

Then yesterday I read this honest and courageous post by a man who did indeed have to make the decision to save the life of his wife over the potential life- the wanted, awaited, life of the fetus within his wife’s body.


I read his story and I felt awe, respect, and some shame. His honesty and ability to share his personal heart, his interior demons and pain so openly and with the deserved relevance to others and this very important issue of a woman's right to choose seemed to challenge me to speak this truth of mine; unpalatable as it may be to many. To speak of a mother’s love and fierce protectiveness and to a woman’s right to choose what happens in her own body as she is able. Or for those who might have to make this choice for her, (be they spouse, mother or Doctor) to be able to do so based on their own deepest hearts truth, rather than have it legislated for them.

This man's writing gave me the courage to admit that I still feel the same. This man. This wonderful feminist male. This thinking, caring, being who loves his wife and respects the rights of all women, gave me the courage I needed to write this truth. The truth that even now as I see this incredible baby, our beautiful Bishop Alexander, now that he is here and in this world, a living, breathing being whom I would die or kill for as I would for my daughter...
Even now I know that before he was born, in that time when he was yet “potential”, still would I have chosen (were it up to me), to sacrifice that potential life for the life of my daughter.

Thankfully, I was not called upon to make that choice. Thankfully, neither was my daughter, or her husband nor her Doctor. Thankfully, my daughter is healthy and whole and healing. Thankfully, we have a beautiful baby boy who was wanted and planned and who was born healthy and whole and is wanted and loved.

I will close this post the way I close near every argument I make anywhere on this topic of women’s reproductive rights:

My Body. My Choice.

Excellent Tactics for Difficult Questions

I am definitely going to do as the author suggests and print this one out for tonight's debate, and every debate to come!! Since the way we know a politician is lying is by the simple fact that his/her lips are moving, perhaps my vote will go to whomsoever manages to best disseminate using these techniques with the most finesse!! Considering that voting based on a politician's positions on the real issues is a waste of time, the way they all change with the political winds, maybe voting for someone who can think on their feet is not such a bad idea...

clipped from www.fatladysings.us Print it off and then sit and watch a politician being interviewed. In almost any interview at least one of these ploys will be used and most often several of them will be used. 1. Attack the Question. - That’s a very silly question, how can you justify the use of the words “Above the Law"? 2. Attack the Questioner. - "How many years have you spent in government?" 3. Compliment the question. - "That’s a very good question. I’d like to thank you for asking me it. Let me reply by asking you one." 4. Unloading the question. - Most questions are loaded. They are full of assumptions such as "A lot of people have said that you consider yourself above the law." There are two possible replies to such loaded questions: a) Name Ten b) Surely in a nation of 60 million people you can find a few people who will say anything no matter how irrelevant, misguided, or ill-informed.

.Mp3 Player Test

This is the Dixie Chicks song, Silent House. It's about Alzehimer's Disease. I wrote the lyrics and more about my Grama, here.

Listen to "Silent House"

Humpday Meanderings...

Or: A New Grandmother's Musings

Thorne's world is soooo tiny today, and so big all at the same time. I seem to have (like Billy Pilgrim, or was it Kilgore Trout?) come unstuck in time. I look at the picture I posted of my baby, my Fawn - with her baby, and I see a young Thorne with her new daughter some 28 years ago. Fawn tells me of her feelings, her experiences in post operative healing and new motherness and suddenly I am awash in the memory of those very feelings. I sit here this morning, naked blogging with coffee as I am wont to do, and out of nowhere (and apropos of nothing obvious) the scent of fresh, clean menstrual blood fills my nostrils, and my long non menstrual uterus contracts with a remembered ache.

Songs chase each other through my mind. This morning it's the theme from Disney's Lion King, performed by Elton John (corny, I know; but there it is), followed by the recurring Garth Brooks melody
The Change

Every time I look at that precious baby, at our Bishop, our little prince, I can't help but think of this world and what his legacy might be. It's strange how indubitably a new life will lead the mind and heart toward hope and joy and potential and possibility. For a moment all fear and despair is banished. For a moment all I can feel is joy that this little man has a whole life ahead of him. All the beauty and joy inherent in the simple act of living. Of being. Of sunlight and moonlight, of the scent of growing things, the texture of a loving hand on his new skin, of a soft breeze, of rain to come and visions of sparkling snow and raging stormswept oceans...

Yes. Today Thorne's world is small and huge. Filled with a tiny pinpoint of light at the center that is this new and precious life, and expanded to encompass all the beauty and wonder that each life can contain. "For all its sham and drudgery..." a line from Desiderata, maybe??

Oh, beauty. Oh, Gods and Goddesses and Love and Light. I am afloat today, on the seas of gratitude.

The Change
--Garth Brooks
One hand
Reaches out
And pulls a lost soul from harm
While a thousand more go unspoken for
They say what good have you done
By saving just this one
It's like whispering a prayer
In the fury of a storm.

And i hear them saying
you'll never change things and no matter
What you do it's still the same thing
But it's not the world that i am changing
i do this so
this world will know
that it will not change me.

This heart
Still believes
That love and mercy still exist.
While all the hatreds rage and so many say
That love is all but pointless
in madness such as this
It's like trying to stop a fire
With the moisture from a kiss.

And i hear them saying
you'll never change things and no matter
What you do it's still the same thing
But it's not the world that i am changing
i do this so
this world will know
that it will not change me.

As long as one heart still holds on
Then hope is never really gone.

And i hear them saying
you'll never change things and no matter
What you do it's still the same thing
But it's not the world that i am changing
i do this so
this world we know
never changes me.

What i do is so
This world will know
That it will not change me

*edited # 1:47 AM on Thursday, April 26 to add the .MP3 player thanks to Betmo

My beautiful "Babies"

My daughter with her son Bishop, my new grandson. Too tired for more than this tonight. Catch up tomorrow!

And we have a baby!!!

Bishop Alexander Dicks was born yesterday evening at 5:23. He weighs 6 lbs., 6 oz., and measures 18.5". He is healthy and beautiful. Fawn is well and happy and resting, after her emergency C-section. (She's grumpy this morning because of her post-op breakfast of clear broth and decaf coffee, so I'm on my way to smuggle her some starbucks) Pics and full story soon. Thank you all for love and Light.

Free Association Sunday

1pm

So this is really fucked up. I spent a couple of hours this morning composing a really fun (for me, at least) blog entry for today. My new “Free association Sunday” posting. Then Firefox crashed, and the draft I was working on in “deepest sender” disappeared. Grrrr.

The funny thing is that my topics, along with of course Earth Day, were all about living in the now. The present. Being present. If I try to rewrite it all now, I blow the whole concept of “free association”.

I guess the joke’s on me, today!

10pm
And now as I finally come back to this, after spending the afternoon and evening with a friend and sponsee, and having a massage, I really need to go to sleep, but I’m worried.
My daughter, my angel, is to check into the hospital tomorrow morning at 6am for labor induction. I’m only worried because she is scared sick. My heart is breaking for her. She’s had all the prenatal care she should, read the books, studied Lamaze, but she’s frightened beyond imagining, and that is what’s got me so worried.
I should be able to choose my words better. I’m not really worried. I’m distraught. I’m overwhelmed. The thought of her fear fills me with such a huge and overwhelming feeling of powerlessness, that it’s hard to breathe. As her mother, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so unable to comfort or protect her as I feel right now.

Please keep her in your hearts and good thoughts or prayers as you will, dear friends. I’ll be back as soon as I have a grandbaby, however long that takes.

Venusday Love (formerly known as "Saturnday Love")

It's a simply beautiful day here in the High Desert. The sun is shining, not a trace of the last week's rain and wind. My incredible GirlyBoi is in top form this morning, bringing me my usual coffee in bed, then running into town (well, driving, actually. "Town" [aka: "Down the Corner"] is 7 miles away), for fixin's for her phucking phenomenal phrench toast, then coming back to prepare it and bring it to I, naked blogging Venusday blogger, here in bed.
Oooh, LaLa. I have to tell you. Eating her french toast, dripping with her heated, melted butter/syrup mix... licking the sweetness from my lips as her intense ocean colored eyes peek from beneath her lashes to watch my lusty enjoyment ... well.
That's. Just. Hot.
A perfect start to another perfect day of lovin'
Sooooo... I'm gonna love ya and leave ya today, but not without a couple of sexy links to get you in the mood to enjoy your own version of "Venusday", (whichever "flavor" you prefer! Insert your preferred gender or let your imagination fly!)

First is a link to a short but sweet fantasy that is a great start (and has cute comments, including but not limited to one of my own)
Not for the squeemish or arachnophobic is Everything I know about Sex I Learned From my Tarantula, from Balls and Wallnuts.
For my lesbian readers (I'm reading this one aloud to my GirlyBoi just a lil later. *whew* Hot stuff!!!) who enjoy a taste of the forbidden fruit, please enjoy An Encounter with a Nun

And last, but by no means least, explore a workshop for sex-trade workers. Fun Stuff.

Enjoy!!

Make Love, Not War!!!!

Freaky Friday comes to a Close

My cockatoo, Kisses, ate my dialup.  Kinda.  Lemme start at the beginning. ( This is not Kisses.  It's Hildy, my African Grey, but I put a pic of Kisses up last week)

So I'm Yahooing with a friend, and we're getting up to a little trouble on a certain site, (I'm so pissed off about this so-called "partial birth" abortion legislation that the only thing I could do was troll fundies.  I know.  I'm an ass, but it was all I had.  It was either that or go crazy.)   So we're doing the grrrrlll thing, laughing and gossiping and bullshitting.  I'm particularly offended by a particular clip entitled "An Aborted "Fetus" Speaks".  The only thing worse than the article is the stupidity of the comments, so I figure I'll jump into the ooze with the rest of the pigs and play.  I'm posting some pretty pointed (to be polite) comments and she's backing me up - playing the "straight man" (woman), and I'm just about ready to push "send" on a real zinger... and that dreaded dialogue box pops up in my face screaming, (not really, but that's what it felt like.  I wouldn't want my computer to scream at me.  I'd prolly hurt it, or pout) "your modem cannot make a connection.  Please check your settings and try again".  I'm like, "WhaFu..."?

Oh, well.  I redial.  Nothing.
Again.  Nothing.

I'm losing steam here, okay?  If I don't get this fucker back online, I just know I'm gonna lose the will to post my zinger.  It's a lil over the edge - even for me. So I haul my fat ass out of bed (indeed, I know it's not Venusday yet, but I'm blogging naked, as usual) and go to check the cordless phones because sometimes when a battery dies, it shuts the whole house down.  Nope.  Phones are all okay.  My Cockatoo is hollering at me, because he loves me, but mostly because it's his bedtime, and I notice... there on the floor beside his cage...a cleanly cut section of phone line. That's my boy.

It seems likely at this point that somehow when I removed his cage drape this morning, I must have caught and pulled forth, so to speak, the phone line from the box.  Somehow it lasted most of the day, dangling enticingly within his reach, but when he finally noticed it... chomp!  Bye bye, landline.  I love my Kisses.  And tonight he was prolly interceding on behalf of the Great Goddess Computa.  Being the first High Priestess of the aforementioned great One, I do know that she is pro-choice.  Nonetheless, perhaps she thought it better that I remain to comment and clip another day, and chose my Kisses as her instrument to keep me from commenting as follows:

Good points, ####!!!
f*ck percentages. "Reasons" are unimportant. Rape, accident, whatever. My body, My choice. My mass of growing cells, (much like a cancer or parasite), feeding off of MY blood and body.
My body, My choice.

I'm sure the fundies and possibly site owners would not have been happy with my reference to "cancer or parasite"  Saved by the Bird!!  Woo Hoo!

Aaaaannnnnnd we have a segue... (an awkward one, and perhaps a tasteless one, but nonetheless a pointed one)

 

I am sooo excited about the pending birth of my grandaughter.  My daughter (my only child) who is 28, (and has made a full and knowledgeable choice to have a child, just as I did with her) is due (or past due, depending on which test) to deliver any day.  Her OB has decided that due to her Rh neg blood type issue, he wants to induce labor monday morning, if she hasn't started labor on her own before then. We are packing her bag tomorrow.  Of course "Grama" (that's me) has crocheted blankies and booties and fun stuff in cool colors and textures.  (Yeah, I crochet.  Wanna make somethin' of it?)  "Grammy" (rhymes with Tammy= the GirlyBoi=my love) can't wait to gurgle and goggle and act like a foolish girllll.  (Silly butch!!)

I have 3 step=grands from my late husband, Jerry.  (Soul-male)   I absolutely adore my grandbabies, although I haven't seem Lucas in 3 years or so.  His mom doesn't really care to keep in touch with me much.  She and her dad were never terribly close, and she just sort of drifted away a few years ago.  Thankfully, I get to see my other 2 granddaughters fairly regularly.  Their mom is my spiritual daughter and dear friend. Amber, the oldest, lives with her dad (Jerry's son), and he never really approved of his dad marrying a witch, and now that the witch is a lesbian, he just detests me.  Poor thing.  His dad would be turning in his grave, if he had one. (But he's here with me.  His cremains on my altar with a pic of his beautiful, sweet face).  I digress. 

So, I don't see A too often, but her mom is good about bringing her out or having us over when she has her visitation.  She's 13 and a pistol.  (Dangerous, like most teens.)  And then there's my Willow Lily.  I adore that child.  She's bright and precocious.  And bless her mom that she is so willing to share her with me, and let me be her Grama.

Still, you can imagine how excited I am that I'll soon have my baby's baby to love!!  I get to be "in" on the whole deal.  Her labor, delivery, close by to care for my Fawn and her child.  Babysitting.  I'm all goo goo gaa gaa.  It's true.  Up close, like Cjarity's mom was for her, and Jen's mom was for her.  I'm so pleased that my F decided to have a child after all.  For some years she wasn't sure, and although it broke my heart to think I mightn't have a grandchild of my own, I always respected her choices. 

So here we are; back to "choice".  I did it, huh? Segue.  Cool.

What the Fuck???

...is "Open Thread Friday"??

So I'm really tryin' to get into the swing of the blogosphere. I've been cruising around trying to figure out what all the "Open Thread" posts designate. They have nothing in common from a content perspective, except of course, as it's relevant to the site. They don't appear to be a free for all most places, but at some they are. I've found some "Open Threads" that are maybe places you can pimp your blog or a post, I think. A couple that may be general commentary, several that seem to have a guest blogger submission, and at least one that has pretty much the usual.

Wha Fu...?

I do wanna give a big thank you

THANK YOU!!!!!

To a few of the folks that have been kind enough to help me learn a little and figure out how to navigate my foolish ass around.

Blue Gal, has been patient, supportive and informative, as have TenGrain at MPS and betmo

And a super big thank you

THANK YOU!!!!!

to everyone who has taken the time to stop and read and comment.

I've updated my blogrolls, today. I think I got most everyone I'm reading, but please let me know if you think you should be there and you're not.

And PLEASE someone thell me what "Open Thread" is!!!

2nd Cuppa (or: Not Fully Awake)

Not yet fully awake. That's a pretty relevant statement, actually. Not fully awake. Science tells us that we use only a small portion of our brains, considering the size and number of cells and neurons and synapses. And many of us, (yours truly, for instance) have problems with the synapses we do use firing properly. (Enter SSRI's and MAOI's, and Lithium and Depacote and myriad other medications which are intended to help our brains do what they should be doing all on their own.) But really, that's another story.

I think my issue today, what I fell asleep too tired after tattooing for 4 hours, and then spending the next 3 catching up on my blog reading and link chasing, is my feeling that we are not fully awake. And I could well be wrong, but it seems to me that there are an awful lots of folks who truly believe that they are! There are alot of people who really believe that they have all the answers, know whats best for us as individuals, as a country, as women, as citizens of the world.

I'm not just talking about the religious right, republicans and government. I read, I think. I see the left trying to do the same damn thing! Environmentalists, activists, democrats. Everyone has an "ideal", and wants to impose it on the rest of us. And it doesn't help that in order to actually reach some sort of middle ground - some sort of reasonable compromise; that opposing factions need to exaggerate and amplify the issue completely out of proportion and present things in either/or, black/white terms.

I'm no better. Well, not better anyway, but there is maybe one small difference. I try really hard to distinguish between an ideal world/situation, and the reality of living in a human world. I understand that "The Ideal" is just that.

You might have noticed that I didn't really comment on Imus. I haven's said much about the VT shootings, or the so-called "manifesto of hate". You won't find me writing about capital punishment, or saying much about illegal immigrants. You'll prolly never read anything here (past today) about the hot topic of gun control.

"Why not", you might ask. Because I am clear in myself that I simply cannot have a position on these things without feeling myself a hypocrite.

Imus? Free speech is our constitutional right. Do I like what he said? No. Do I approve of such degrading terms being spoken? No. Would I ever listen to that asshole spew his hate? No. Do I think he should be silenced? No. Do I uphold the right of consumers and sponsors to choose not to support him? Yes. Whatever. In the end, I choose to accept that I have this wide range of feelings on the topic. That for me there is no "right" or "wrong" except as I personally perceive the different questions within the context of the event. There is no one bandwagon for me to jump on and claim alliance with.

The VT shootings? Very sad for the people involved, the victims, the friends and family. The president going to console them? Please. In my blogcruising yesterday, a blogger asked how people would feel if GWB came to console them, were they the parents of the shooting victims. The comments ranged from spitting on him to killing him. I had to laugh. It was a tough question answered honestly by folks who are anti war and perhaps didn't see the irony of their response. The media and lobbyist circus all claiming the incident in support of their particular "cause"? Please. 30 something dead is a "national tragedy"? Puh-leeeeze!!! Hurricane fucking Katrina was a national tragedy!!! Not the hurricane itself, or even the damage that it and the lives it claimed and ruined; but the LACK of governmental response!!! THAT was the tragedy!

We get up in arms and babble for days about Imus and a guy going off the deep end at VT when thousands are dieing and starving and homeless; being mutilated and tortured and repressed and subjugated; raped, murdered, sold, bought... every fucking day all around our so called Global fucking Village???

And the disturbed young man who committed this "senseless" act. What about him? Is he to be used as an example of a "domestic terrorist" to further frighten a nation into allowing even greater usurpation of our freedoms, under such atrocities of anti-constitutionalism as the Patriot Act?? Shall we dismiss him as a madman, or just someone with an inferiority complex who was scared of women?

Or is he in fact a very clear indication of the human condition? Of our self-centered, consumer driven and power seeking human selves? Is he maybe even the manifestation of a symptom of the pervasive illness that eats away at our humanity like a cancer? It is like a cancer. Or maybe more like herpes. No, really. We all carry the herpes virus in our spinal fluid. It erupts in various ways from cold sores to shingles to an STD. It also erupts due to a number of different causes. Stress, communication/contagion, diet.

Is violence like that within us? A deep and often (and in many) quiescent "virus" hiding in our very physiology, our very humanness, only to erupt at various and varying instigators? Some skewed manifestation of the "Flight or Fight" response?

I think so. I really do.

I don't claim to be "fully awake". Not by a long shot. But I believe that my awareness that I'm not, is a far cry from the sleepwalking that I see many doing.

Maybe I'm crazy somehow, or my thinking is skewed. I dunno, but I can't seem to help looking at every issue, every topic, every "position" or "stand" from my personal perspective. From the position of "What would I do?" No, really!!!! Not what would be the ideal; but really and truly:

What would I do?

Example:
Do I support capital punishment? Ideally; no. Why? because I believe that people who wantonly murder are nuts. Ill. Something wrong with them. Period. Not from some religious or moral belief, just my simple belief that people who do stuff like what that kid did at VT are sick motherfuckers. Do we kill the mentally ill?

Now, let's get real. Am I pacifist enough to believe that if someone murdered say, my daughter; tortured and raped her, that I would be able to forgive? That I wouldn't want him to die? That I might feel that a quick and painless death would be more than he deserved?? Mightn't I even wish to pull the switch myself?? When I really look into my heart, the best I can come up with is "I don't know". Really. I simply don't know. I don't know which part of me would win in a battle like that. That might just be a circumstance which would send that virus into overdrive and I'd be so disease filled that murder would be my only possible response. I mean, I'd shoot a rabid dog... right?

I don't know.

What I do know is that every book or movie I've ever seen about a person waiting for a death sentence to be carried out upon his/her person has filled me with horror. No matter how heinous was the crime. My compassion and empathy for the condemned was so huge, so encompassing that at that moment I could scream aloud, "NOOOOOO". This is wrong!

But will I take a stand on this issue? No. Because I cannot with any surety, once I fully put myself in both positions and consider the "ideal", say that I could personally uphold either position. Nor can I say that I would like to see it legislated. Because we are all flawed, we are not fully awake, and there is no "right" answer.

(Okay, I'm on a roll now, and I have to say this stuff.) Gun control. Do I think there are too many guns and too much easy access to guns and too many people killed by guns? Yes. Do I uphold my "right to bear arms"? Yes. Am I a member of the NRA? No.

As one of 4 women, living on 40 acres in the middle of the desert (7 miles from town and an hour from help by the local sheriff in an emergency), as lesbians living in a hick town (yes, there are plenty of them in Cali), as americans living in a country rife with home invasion, murder and rape... I have a couple of guns. A shotgun with a serious choke, a 22 rifle and a lil 22 popgun). They are placed strategically for both the safety of any visiting kids and easy access for me in the case of necessary self protection. I haven't needed them yet, and hope I never will. But don't tell me I can't have them.

Ideally, they shouldn't be necessary. Personally and practically, they are. Yet another issue I simply can't take a stand on. What makes me wanna shoot somebody is the parents who have not secured their gun from the curious minds and hands of their 4 year old who shoots off her sister's face. But really... that is a different issue, no matter how many gun control lobbyists want to convince us otherwise. That is a PARENTING issue. NOT a gun issue. My partner drank kerosene from beneath a BBQ in the back yard when she was 3. Shall we outlaw kerosene?? Anyway, that's a whole 'nother rant.

I've read a number of books by Starhawk, who describes herself as: author of many works celebrating the Goddess movement and Earth-based, feminist spirituality. I’m a peace, environmental, and global justice activist and trainer, a permaculture designer and teacher, a Pagan and Witch.
A really good one about power and ethics is
Truth or Dare, although I admit I felt a little too "lectured" and even scolded from time to time (but that was prolly mostly due to the fact that I fall so far short of my own ideals), but the book that I read that really woke me up to my own humanity was The The Fifth Sacred Thing.

It's a fictional rendering of a sort of post apocalyptic life in a community in Northern Cali. For the first while, it seems somewhat Utopian. The community governs by a council of elders and by consensus. There are rituals and worship of a variety and homogeneity that you can only imagine, and all are free to worship/honor or not as they choose. To someone like me, the vision presented is idyllic, although I did have to face my inner demons of insecurity and jealousy around monogomy, as well as my childrearing beliefs and my desire to "own" things and name them "mine". Still, all in all, I could get my head around the idealism that would make such a community flourish.

Then the "bad guys" show up. You know the ones. The ones that want to "Govern" and "Restore order". The ones that want something the community has. It doesn't really matter what it is. Water, salt, land; bodies for cannon fodder so they can go on governing and restoring order...

(I hate to be a spoiler so stop reading now if you intend to read the book and don't want to know about the end)

So our idyllic Northern Cali utopia is invaded by an army. This army is made up of folks much like "our" own army over in Iraq right now, or any army ever anywhere, for that matter. Just people. People who needed a job or an education. People who believed they were serving the greater good. People who are leaders. People who follow blindly. All of the above and more.

And the overall consensus on the strategy of the community response is pacifism. The forms that the pacifism take are interesting and more varied than one would think, but the biggest weapon is a simple statement. A statement that the community makes individually and as a group. A statement that they hold to as their members (including a few children) are martyred for their community ideals, their way of life, their decision to live free from violence - or die. The statement is, simply:

"There is room for you at our table."

There is room for you at our table. We will share what we have, but you may not take it. Hell, actually it's more like, "you may take it, but you each will personally pay the cost in terms of your humanity". This community fought in this way. To each individual soldier that attempted to implement his "orders" for curfew, or lodging or food or information, the response was the same.

"There is room for you at our table.
Won't you join us?
This is how we live.
No one goes without.
We all share.
We work together and help each other.
We want you.
You don't have to fight, or kill people, or hurt people.

There is room for you at our table."

I won't tell some of the specifics of the book. The torture, degradation and death that the community suffered while keeping to their course.

"There is room for you at our table."

I won't tell you the end of the book either. That wasn't the point of sharing this, of writing about it. The point for me was that this book made me hyper aware of how far short I fall of my ideals.

The beauty and love and simplicity of the community response to the threat is perfect. It speaks to my soul of everything that is and should be and could be beautiful in us.

I have examined my mind and heart and soul and found myself wanting. I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch a child clubbed down without trying to stop or possibly kill the clubber. I couldn't let you take what my family needed to survive. I would fight and possibly kill to protect me and mine.

Yet I am a good person. I detest war and greed. I try to avoid hate and poison in my speech and actions. I have no desire to take or own what isn't mine (but what would I do if you had medicine and my child needed it?). I stand up for what I believe is right, but am perhaps too often silent because I really don't know what is "right".

For me it always comes down to this.

The macrocosm is merely an amplified reflection of the microcosm.

And I am human.

Blah... Blah... Blaaaahhhhg. That's Right; I Said Blog!!

Free speech (But only if we're willing to use it!) A great excuse to post beautiful naked women exercising their right to free speech. And KS thought a pair of panties 'shopped over her head was bad!!!)
Blog craziness. People are freakin; out! I mean, I'm lovin' this whole bloggin' thaaaang, ya know?? Shheee. Write about what you know, right?? What you love. And is it soooo cool ('scuze me, that would be: "kewl") that peeps will actually stop by. Check out what a gal's got to say. And me?? I love to read; to learn.
And is this super good form. Good habit, good practice? Yup. Good stuff, this. Write every day. Read alot. Maybe too much. Kinda funny really. Addiction is addiction. Obsession. Still, what the fuck, right?
30 something killed in VA and everybody's got some kinda bullshit to write about it. Op/Ed. Idiots.

Then I'm cruising around today, and there's this like, plague of despair among alot of really GOOD bloggers!!! What's up with that?? It's because if we care... we care. Hmmm.

Are the Flamers and Trolls, the haters and idiots having a crisis of identity? Of hopelessness?

NO!!

Because one thing that the idiots know is that:

Propaganda works!!
That's right. It works.

If you keep saying something enough people will believe it. The hate mongers and Dominists and religionists... The Jerry Falwells, and George Bushes... the Rush mother-fuckin' Limbaughs. They know it.

They just keep spewing crap. Do they wonder if it's helping, if it's working?? Nope. They just keep on keepin' on.

And that's what we do, too. We have to. We must. Because there are more of us. Really; it's true. There are more of us who are against the hate, the poison, the violence.

Problem is we're sensitive souls.
Gentle spirits.
Pacifists, tree huggers, pussy fucking liberals.

And we feel. We hurt for the people who are tortured, who die and suffer loss needlessly. We feel despair and hopelessness of the constant, ongoing protest. Because we're not using poison as our fuel. We don't have the raw hate to sustain us that those assholes do.

We have love. And empathy. And conscience. And heart.

And these things are NOT self sustaining and self perpetuating the way hate is. These things are fragile and defenseless. So we need to nurture and protect them, and each other. We need to allow our love and light to feed and sustain us; those of us who would see change, who would educate, inform, help bring about peace and awareness.

And it's hard and sometimes lonely and thankless work. But we are all connected in it and we just keep goin'. We keep feeling it, and voicing it.

Because if I'm not part of the solution I'm part of the problem.
Because it's what we can do.
Because it's what we do.

I made my bed and I sleep like a baby
With no regrets and I don’t mind sayin’
It’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger
And how in the world can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they’d write me a letter
Sayin’ that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over

Not ready To Make Nice
--Dixie Chicks


Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

I’m through with doubt
There’s nothing left for me to figure out
I’ve paid a price
And I’ll keep paying

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should

I know you said
Can’t you just get over it
It turned my whole world around
And I kind of like it

I made my bed and I sleep like a baby
With no regrets and I don’t mind sayin’
It’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger
And how in the world can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they’d write me a letter
Sayin’ that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

Welcome to Pottersville: The Last Boy Scout

Jurassicpork does it again. Expresses the horror, pain and helplessness I feel about this world, our society. The loss for all of the people involved is beyond measure, but so is it for every victim of violence by any hand.Welcome to Pottersville: The Last Boy Scout

The comment quoted below by someone who chooses not to make their profile available is incredibly succinct.

That the 100 plus Iraqis of all ages who were slain yesterday - and will be slaughtered tomorrow - many in torturous agony - are not even noticed, let alone named, does not diminish the loss.

Blogs Unite Against Iraq War

"One Million Blogs for Peace" movement began on Iraq War's fourth anniversary with 217 blogs. They hope to have 1,000,000 strong by the fifth anniversary. I'm in. How about you???



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Lazin' and Linkin'

Sorry for the number of clips without commentary, but sometimes I just can't say it any better than the author does, and often commentary would just be an exorcise in redundancy. Lazin' with my love again today (Sunday is our actual scheduled day of mutual worship. My, it's grand to be in love!), and finally getting around to updating my links and hopefully art. Got a bit more to do, but thankfully it can ALL be done while naked in bed! Woooot!!

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Good one!!!

'nuff said.

clipped from thekatrinacrat.blogspot.com Need I say any more? Blogging Against Theocracy

Warrior for Peace

What a woman!!!

clipped from freewayblogger.blogspot.com "If every American did a small fraction of what she does every day, we would actually have peace by the end of this month." I was going through this piece in Truthout about the unsung heroes of the peace movement, and found myself reading about my good friend Barbara. Not only is she everything the article says she is, she's a hell of a good freewayblogger too: one of our best. Along with Beachblogger, she's put up hundreds - and I do mean hundreds - of signs along the Interstates in San Diego.

Graphictruth: When Morality Becomes Idiocy - the prosecution of sexually exploited children.

Graphictruth: When Morality Becomes Idiocy - the prosecution of sexually exploited children.

Lee Iacocca for President!!!

Wow. This is a must have book. Check out Lee's 9 C's for leadership!!!