In times of old, The Furies protected Mother Right. If a mother (or any woman) was harmed, The Furies swooped down and took their vengeance. They were one of the last vestiges of a world that existed before the patriarchy. When we feel righteous anger, it is The Furies who are calling out to us to make what is wrong right again.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

The Cover for Mercy, Unbound 

Long time Furious Spinner readers have followed the progress of Mercy, Unbound, since I began it December 2003 on an Oregon beach one night.

Here's an excerpt from the Coastal Diaries, December 27, 2003: "We decided to write a bit before bed. I sat at my laptop and began a short novel. I didn’t have a title. Didn’t have a plot. I just had the image and voice of this girl in my head, and I started to write. Not the way I usually write. After a couple of hours, I stopped and read it to Mario. When I finished, we both sat in the silence. The main character was called Mercy. She wouldn’t eat because she believed she was transforming into an angel, and angels didn’t need to eat. She was so wounded by what she saw happening in the world that she could see only one solution: to sacrifice her human self. It is a question many of us have: How does one survive the woundedness of the world and one’s own woundedness?"

That was the beginning of the writing of Mercy, Unbound, although Mercy had been in my head for a while before that, just standing there, waiting for me. I loved writing her story, and I love her and every character in this book. There are no villains. There are only people trying to get by. I've explained before that once I write a story, it feels separate from me, so it's not vanity when I say how wonderful it is. I birthed it but then it's my job to get it out in the world in the best way possible.

When I finished writing Mercy, Unbound, I sent it to my agent, Michael Bourret; he loved it. He then sent it to Julia Richardson at Simon & Schuster, and she loved it. As I've told you before, I am very happy with my agent and my editor. They both seem to understand my work. Finally! I am reveling in the experience because I know how rare and precious it is after all the years I've been in this biz. What you always hope for is someone who understands your work. That sounds like an artistic cliché, but it is so true. Now my agent and editor get excited by my work. This is a much better response than the one I got from one agent: "Kim, you write too much. Get a job." I have a job! It's called writing!

Anyway, my editor at Simon and Schuster is great. I never mind when an editor has questions about the manuscript, as long as they are specific about what bothers them. Julia was very specific and very clear. I've always worked well with editors. A good editor can make such a difference, and Julia is a good editor. I count on editors to keep me from looking stupid—and to protect my work and help get it out into the world. I don't want to read a published story or a novel of mine ten years from now and say, "How did THAT get by?" Although I don't officially have a "cover consult" with Simon Pulse, Julia is keeping me apprised of what is happening with the cover, and she asked me how I pictured Mercy so she could pass that information along.

Normally I don't like people on the covers of books, as a reader or writer. But I knew with YA books that this was a given. So I braced myself. I got the galleys for Mercy, Unbound on Saturday. At the beginning of each section is a beautiful "illustration." The final one, part four, shows Mercy's face. I started crying: she looked so much like how I had imagined her. Then yesterday Julia sent me the cover. Some changes may take place, but this is it for now. (I'll show you below.)

I've just reread Mercy, Unbound again, as I've corrected the galleys. I love this book. (Did I already say that?) I really like writing YA books. I think some of the most exciting stories being told are in children's literature right now. I'm allowed to write stories with passionate characters, living passionate mixed-up lives. Not that adult fiction can't do that, but they're often more restrained than I like. I'm not a New Yorker-style writer.

In Mercy, I got to write about so many things I feel so deeply about through these characters. Not in a preachy way. I don't do that with my fiction. I let the characters tell their own stories. I don't even always agree with everything they say or do, I've told you that. But I love these characters. Young adult novels are not just for teenagers, by the way. Think Catcher in the Rye. Good YA books do what that book did. They tell the truth. If you enjoy Furious Spinner, you will love Mercy, Unbound. (It's due out May 2006.)

Here’s another thing I’ve discovered about my YA novels. I had always been told I should be able to summarize my books in one sentence. That used to annoy the hell out of me. “If I could say it in a sentence, I wouldn’t need 300 pages.” Well, with both Mercy, Unbound and The Camel Jockey, I can say what they’re about in one sentence. I’m no longer annoyed. It feels liberating. The Camel Jockey: A young Pakistani woman disguises herself as a boy in order to go to the Middle East and rescue her six year old brother, who has been kidnapped and forced to work as a camel jockey. Mercy, Unbound: A teenage girl believes she’s turning into an angel so she doesn’t need to eat, but her parents believe she has an eating disorder so they send her to a clinic in New Mexico.

The inspired book designer for Mercy, Unbound is Deb Sfetsios and the wonderful photographer is Suza Scalora. Drum roll, please! Here's the cover and the first paragraph of the book:

mercy, unbound

Call me Mercy. Or TAM for short. T.he A.ngel M.ercy. Yes, I’m an angel. Or about to be an angel. I have only recently awakened to this realization. Or figured it out. A revelation, if you will. The wings were a big clue. You can’t see them? You will. At first they felt like new teeth coming in. Do you remember that feeling? Kind of itchy, irritating. I wanted to cry all the time. I lost my appetite. Then I knew. Those little buds on my shoulder blades—along with everything else—sealed the deal. I was an angel. And angels don’t need to eat.

Welcome to the world, Mercy.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/29/2005 12:18:00 PM
3 comments

In Response to the Emperor's Speech 

You got no clothes, buddy. Not a stitch. And just let me get this out of my system: IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11. IRAQ HAD NOTHING NADA ZERO ZILCH TO DO WITH 9/11.

Just saying.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/29/2005 09:02:00 AM
1 comments

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

"I grow old . . . I grow old . . . 

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled."

I just realized I've been misquoting that line from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" for years. I've always said, "I grow old, I grow old, I wear my trousers rolled." In any case, the point of this trip down T.S. Eliot lane is that researchers have translated a new Sappho poem. They discovered this poem, recently, in the wrappings around an Egyptian mummy. In this "new" poem, she writes about the perils of growing old. It's quite moving and sad. Some things never change.

By the way, if you've never read "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot it is an amazing piece. Eliot may not have been an exemplary man, but some of his poems are so vivid and evocative—so authentically human.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/28/2005 01:31:00 PM
1 comments

Monday, June 27, 2005

Enemies of the State 

JUSTICE JACKSON: Protective custody meant that you were taking people into custody who had not committed any crime but who, you thought, might possibly commit a crime?

HERMANN GOERING: Yes. People were arrested and taken into protective custody who had not yet committed any crime, but who could be expected to do so if they remained free. . . the original reason for creating the concentration camps was to keep there such people whom we rightfully considered enemies of the state.

—The Trial of Hermann Goering, Nuremburg, 1946

Found in Guantánamo: the War on Human Rights by David Rose.

Tell me again why Dick Durbin apologized?
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/27/2005 11:03:00 PM
0 comments

Fairy Pudding 

I spent the weekend at the Fairy Congress out in the woods not far from where we live.

This is the second year the Fairy Congress has been held in the Hood River area. I was a bit hesitant to go, at first, for a couple of reasons. First, they use so much pesticides in the Hood River Valley that it is nicknamed "Death Valley," so I try not to venture near there too much in the spring and summer. I was also leery that the Congress might be too "airy, fairy," so to speak. I cannot abide New Age Speak: "You create reality." "Why did you cause your illness?" "You created the horror of your life so you could learn what lesson?" My view is that all those people sitting around "creating their own reality" and not being engaged in this reality need to get off their butts and help out right here in our communal reality. I don't mix well and play well with religious/spiritual fanatics of any ilk, so I was hoping the fairy weekend would not be like that.

Also, I've been to several pagan campouts. For the most part, I was not impressed. Too many people dressed in black leather, smoking cigarettes and claiming to love the Earth and their bodies as they squashed cigarettes into the ground while coughing. Too many men using the idea of sacred sex as a come on and ploy to fuck any woman they wanted. (Yes, sex becomes so much more sacred if you do it in a so-called temple lined in plastic garbage bags.) I consider myself pagan/witchy, and I don't like people using any spirituality/religion (but especially my own) as an excuse to behave badly. None of the above was true at witchy women weekends, by the way. When women gathered without men or when women were the primary facilitators without that weird hierarchy some pagans use, the weekends were no longer like a hell's angels orgy out in the woods. (Just my experiences, of course. Many of you may have had much different experiences at these campouts.)

Anyway, I decided to try the Fairy Congress, finally, because I know Sola and Cosmos who own the land, and they are very kind, loving, and members of our peace group. I do believe that the land, mountains, wind, trees, etc. all have their own kind of life, whatever you want to call that: deva, nature-spirit, fairy. (I usually call them the Invisibles.) Mostly, I wanted to be out in the woods all weekend celebrating Solstice and Midsummer with some like-minded people.

Friday

I drove to Hood River and beyond, along twisting roads through the orchards. To the north of me, Pahto (Mount Adams) slouched; patches of black rock poked up through the snow here and there like black roots showing on a blond head. To the south, Wy'east (Mount Hood) rose. I was at the heart of the world.

I got to the farm/sanctuary and parked the car along with several dozen other cars in a mowed field. The sky was clear, the world was silent. I grabbed my folded chair and bag and started walking toward tall grass and the woods. I whispered a prayer of permission for entrance to the woods. Suddenly, I saw a deer. This isn't a rare occurrence, of course. I had photographed two deer eating the neighbor's roses two days ago. But this deer was unlike any I had ever seen: it was an appaloosa deer. I murmured, "Fairy deer," as I watched her and took a photograph.

Then I continued down a path, of sorts. Three teenagers passed by me, coming up from the Fairy Congress. "Is this the way to grandma's house?" I asked."

"Huh?"

"The Fairy Congress?"

"Yeah, keep going."

Then I was alone in the scrub oak and tall grass, except for the scrub oak and tall grass and anything else I couldn't see. The grass bent to make the path turned gold as the path curved down, deeper into the woods. It was summer hot. Insects buzzed and sang. I had no idea if I was traveling in the right direction, but I didn't care because it was so blissfully quiet. After several minutes, I heard music coming from a single flute. Pan's pipe? Kokopelli's flute? I smiled. It is so grand when we live absolutely the way we wish to live, even if it lasts only a moment or so. Don't count them up like pennies to see if you have enough, darlin'. They're more precious than that.

The ground leveled off, and I came to a small open white tent. I thanked the bearded man who was playing the flute, and I registered with the woman. The man showed me a map on the table. I listened and nodded, but none of it made any sense to me. I have a good sense of direction, a great sense of place (I very seldom get lost in the woods, knock wood), but maps are often Greek to me and this one was no different. Pan went around the tent to point me in the right direction. Just then a dark red dragonfly flew up to us. "Hello, sweetheart," I said. Then, I shouldered my stuff again, and continued down the path. I went by several buildings, then down a narrow switchback through the trees (trying to watch out for poison oak), and through another field where a few tents bubbled up from the grass, like colorful nylon fairy mounds.

Then I was walking through woods, no more tall grass, and I saw colorfully dressed people walking around an outdoor kitchen. Across from the kitchen were several tables, benches, and chairs. Giant human-made flowers (photos later) "grew" from the corners of this eating and cooking area, sprouting up twice as tall as I am.

As I kept walking, I looked around to see if I recognized anyone. I didn't. The path curved, and I passed by several vendors on either side, selling, among other things, fairy wings. I wanted to ask, "Did the fairy live once you took its wings? Or is it kind of like taking legs from frogs?" But I quickly put that macabre thought out of my mind, and kept walking until I came to the center, the circle. Several people were completing work on a stage. The surrounding woods did seem alive with color and activity. I saw a sign that said, "breathe." So I did.

Even though I was surrounded by beauty, I really wanted to turn around and go home. This always happens when I go someplace like this. I was so monumentally uncomfortable that I just wanted to flee. (I imagine many of you can relate.) I thought, I don't know anyone; I'm hot; I just walked 40 fucking miles to get here; my allergies are terrible; I could have an asthma attack out here and die. Scrub oak is notorious for ticks and poison oak. Jesus Louise. WHAT AM I DOING HERE?

On the other hand, I would have to walk all the way back to my car carrying all my crap again, only it took me so long to walk here it was now even hotter out, plus I'd have to stop at registration and ask Pan to give me my check back because I was a scardy pants. So I put all my crap down and breathed deeply again. I went to the outdoor portable toilets. (Don't even get me started...Actually, they were okay, and there were plenty all around the camp. No waiting.) Then I walked around looking for a workshop to attend. They were about thirty minutes into each workshop. I heard drumming coming from the gnome dome in the woods, like the heartbeat of the woods.

I sat in on one workshop with two or three other people. A woman was talking about foxglove telling her how to help a client. I fuzzed out. She might have been entirely correct that foxglove was talking to her, but I had no proof of that. I often wonder if people know the difference between imagination and God or plants talking to them—although I also understand I may not understand that the imagination is how the natural world and/or the divine talks to us. I don't really know. Just like I didn't know if Foxglove was speaking with this woman. Proof would be in the pudding, as those old wise women said. If Foxglove suggested something to this woman which then helped her or someone else, then hey, go with it. Just remember: to harm none is the witch's creed. (Although some of us might argue with that, too. Sometimes I want harm done. If someone is sick, I want those bacteria or viruses harmed—or at least gone. But that's another discussion.) Anyway, I believe in the old adage: have an open mind, but don't let your brains fall out.

I left that workshop and went to the Soul Lodge, which was a large covered area with a fire circle at the center. A woman was discussing animal communication. I sat in on this talk, trying to relax and ground. She had us do a meditation to connect with an animal spirit. As often happened when I meditated, bear showed up. I asked him what I always ask. How do I get well? Only this time I said, "I'm tired of being told I've got the healing within me, because clearly I don't." The animal communicator was telling us to go inside the animal, to inhabit it. So "my" bear opened his mouth. (Yes, it was a "he." What can I say? Some of my best friends are of the male persuasion.) I crawled inside the bear, and he said, "You are inside the healing." I thought that was interesting. I had never heard that before. But I take all of this with a shaker of salt. I've been doing this enough years to know that I usually hear what I want to hear.

When we broke for lunch, I walked around the encampment. I also ate the tofu sandwich Mario had made me. I probably could have eaten the food they made, but I was trying to save money, so I didn't. Of course, this isolated me from the group even more. I still hadn't seen anyone I knew. I took a path down to the river, but I couldn't find it. I could hear the river, but to get to it, I would have to go through a lot of bush. (It reminded me of the bumper sticker I saw on one of the cars: save the trees, cut the Bushes.)

After lunch, I listened to a talk by Dorothy Maclean, one of the founders of the Findhorn Community in Scotland. I've been intrigued by their gardening methods for years, and here was one of the people who had started it all. She said she ended up in a caravan park in Scotland, and they didn't have any money and not much to eat, so they decided to start a garden to feed themselves. They didn't know anything about gardening, she said. She went out and started talking to the plants. She didn't actually hear them talk, she just got feelings and then put those feelings or whatever they were into words. (She also said when she used the word God, she wasn't talking about a white-haired bearded man in the sky. She meant the Divine, whatever that was.)

She said the plants told them to make compost and how to do that. Soon people in the neighborhood were coming around to ask how they were getting such great gardens in such sandy soil. She said at first they just told people it was the compost because they figured they better not talk about fairies or nature spirits. I liked her. She seemed very loving and sincere, and she had the 100 proof pudding: what she did worked. I realized that I talk to the plants in my garden, but I don't really listen to them, except before I harvest them. Then I ask for permission. Maybe I should sit down a spell and see what happens.

After the workshop, I went home and ate dinner with Mario. Then we went back to the Congress. I parked closer this time. We sat in our captain's chairs at the edge of the circle and watched the people. Children played Frisbee and hacky sack in the circle. Mario and I grinned at each other. We loved watching the children run back and forth, completely at ease and blissful in their environment. We saw a few people we knew and chatted for a bit.

After a while, we moved our chairs closer to the stage. Darkness fell and the music began. I was completely blissful sitting amongst these people, next to Mario, listening to flutes, drums, harpsichord, and guitar as the stars starting coming out. R.J. Stewart sang and played a variety of instruments. He sang ancient songs and modern ones he had composed. We were impressed. When he was finished, Mario and I put our chairs over by the Soul Lodge, and then we walked back to the car in the dark. (We had forgotten a flashlight.)

We slowly drove down the dirt drive away from the farm. Suddenly, the fairy deer appeared again. It was still for a moment, then it turned its appaloosa butt in our direction and leapt away.

Mario and I laughed and headed home.

Sometimes we get the life we want.

Blessed be.

Saturday

On my way to the morning workshop, I met one of the elders of our peace group. He walked with me for a bit, giving me a history of the farm/sanctuary. It was nice to listen to him and see him in this place. He has been an organic farmer and a protector of the woods for a long while.

I slipped into the Soul Lodge and listened to David Spangler talk about "kinship with all fairies." The wind blew all around the tent, shaking the poles that held the tenting in place. When a bird or butterfly flew over, I could see its shadow on the tent. I watched people walking back and forth as I listened. Spangler said we shouldn't limit ourselves to where we think we'll find nature spirits. He took us on a meditation to a mall. He said maybe a fairy would be intrigued by the colors and neon lights of a mall. Who knows? At first I really didn't want to be in a mall. Actually, through the entire thing I didn't want to be in a mall. But I thought he had a good point. We shouldn't limit our imaginations. He said that the mall has an energy form: to mediate congress. He talked about learning to speak the language of the world we're in. If we don't know the language, we have difficult communicating, of course. He said we should inhabit the world we're in in new ways, to be in peace with the world we're in. See everything as sanctified.

After I ate lunch, I took a walk. I sat on a rock above the river. A woman walked alone on the rocky beach, naked, her wet hair in a towel. Swallows dove here and there, gurgling their water songs, reminding me of flying music notes for some reason. I went back to the camp via the Sanctuary path. I stopped at a huge patch of poison oak. I whispered that I meant it no harm and please leave me without harm. As I walked away, I chanted my anti-inflammation chant, "Inflammation lose thy power..." As I went in the woods, I thought once again about how I would love to care for a piece of land, how much I wanted to get to know every crook and cranny of a place. I knew some people ache to have children that way; I never had. But land: I have always wanted to care for the land. I was grateful to be here, this weekend, on this land. I did not know all its nooks, but I would give it my love.

On the way to the next workshop, I saw Cosmos and asked him about the appaloosa deer. He said they had lots of deer, but he had never seen this particular one before. Someone else at the Congress had seen it, too.

Peter Tompkins who wrote the Secret Life of Plants spoke at the afternoon workshop. He talked about going around the world looking for tests for some of his theories. He didn't believe things only because someone told him it was so; he needed a test: he needed proof. When his book first came out, he went on the Johnny Carson show. They asked him to come early, so he sat around for hours with his plants. As the day went on and the plants kept getting moved, the plants got droopier and droopier. Tompkins thought, oh my, I'm going to blow it before 15 million people. To his surprise, when the lights came up and it was time for the show, the plants suddenly revived. "It's showtime!" He talked a bit about Steiner and biodynamics. Quite interesting.

Home again for dinner and Mario. I spent a long time trying to find something to wear for the Fairy Parade. I don't have a lot of dress-up stuff. I like comfort, so my idea of dress-up is actually wearing clothes. I finally settled on a long purple dress I had last worn several years ago for a Summer Solstice celebration. I went out to my garden and got some lavender and rosemary (thank you, very much). Then we drove back to the camp.

People gathered into the circle. It was so much fun to see the children and adults in their beautiful clothes. The woman who made the giant flowers undid them from the various posts and gave them out to people to carry. We formed a circle, did some singing and chanting, and then we started a spiral dance. I have participated in many, many spiral dances. The only times I've been in spiral dances where they do not turn into a form of "crack the whip" have been when they were led by Starhawk. This spiral dance was not led by Starhawk. Soon we were running, and I was being pulled apart. (Think chariots, Romans, Christians, and I was not the chariot or the Roman.) It's not a pleasant experience. I finally wrenched my hand free of Mario and I dropped out of the circle. One of my fingers was purple where he had held too tightly to it. And it hurt like hell. I was pissed off. How many times do I have to learn the lesson NOT to participate in these spiral dances before I just stop. I always have confidence that this person will know what the hell she is doing. Next time, I must remember. (Mario thinks it's a law of physics thing, and that it probably has nothing to do with who leads it. He may be right. I will admit I have an extremely low tolerance of incompetance when a person is responsible for the safety of others.)

We formed a circle again and the Fairy Queen and Fairy King emerged from a tent. We listened intently to what they had to say. The Fairy King spoke (can't remember what he said), and then we started parading through the woods. (Apparently the Fairy Queen had nothing to say.) We danced as we walked, singing and drumming, headed for the fairy mound. Once there, we did a quick meditation and then danced and sang some more. I loved standing amongst all the color and songs.

Then it was back to the circle where a fire now blazed. We danced in the darkness. Sparks flew up to the sky, becoming stars just for us.

Mario and I walked back to the car, this time with flashlight in hand. Once home, I slept through the entire night.

Sunday

Mario and I went to R.J. Stewart's workshop on Big Fairies in the morning. I wrote a note to Mario, "Even if you don't believe any of this, it's fascinating." He wrote back, "Oui." Stewart knows the stories. He talked briefly about Bigfoot. Then he spoke about even bigger creatures. He said we were all living inside a fairy being. (This was fascinating, given my earlier meditation that I was living inside the healing.) It was all quite complicated and interesting, especially from a writer's point of view, but impossible (for me) to summarize.

Mario and I stayed in the Soul Lodge for lunch. One of the vendors had brought her little dog, and it yapped the entire time we sat eating. I tried to find the woman who owned the dog but couldn't. I said to Mario, "Maybe we should try to communicate with that dog." "OK. Find me a big stick and I'll communicate with it." I laughed so hard. Funny thing, the dog stopped barking.

After lunch, Mario and I walked down to the river to Butterfly Beach. Sure enough, huge butterflies flitted here and there. The stones and sand were all gray, making it seem rather subdued, or something. Mario constructed a pile of rocks. Everywhere you go in the West, you see these piles of rocks. Standing stones. On our way back to the Soul Lodge, we saw a bumper sticker on one of the campers that said, "I support the separation of church and hate."

The final workshop was "Living On The Practical Paths to Faery." R.J. Stewart, T. Thorn Coyle, and Orion Foxwood talked about their every day practice. They all said stillness was important. Orion quoted Sun Bear: "If your religion can't grow corn, I don't want anything to do with it," which is exactly how I feel. Foxwood spoke about his interest in folk ways, and folk magic, which is an interest of mine. I thought of my grandfather. He never planted potatoes before St. John's Day. In fact, he may have planted potatoes on St. John's Day (Midsummer, June 24th). He used a dowser to find where to put his well. My father did, too. Everyone did where we lived: because it worked. Proof in the pudding.

We talked about how to save the natural world. They believed the big picture is being taken care of, so we should take care of the little things. (This reminded me of think globally, act locally.)

How do we bring the fairies into our lives, someone asked. Stewart told the story of someone who had a dream about unicorns. When he awakened, he was crying. "Why are you crying?" "Because," he said, "the unicorns told me they never went away." They’re still here.

Mario and I packed up our things, and then we slowly left the Fairy Congress. During the weekend, I hadn’t seen a single piece of litter; I never saw anyone with a cigarette. I never even heard a swear word.

At the car, Mario and I held hands and thanked everything and everyone for this place and this weekend. We hugged each other and then got in the car and drove away.

I don't know if we grew any corn, but I know I stood on the skin of the Earth, I ran my fingers through the Wind, I French-kissed Water as I drank it, I warmed my body on Sun-drenched rocks. I stood at the Heart of the World. As always, as always. I am within the healing. Someday I will learn the language of this world. For now, my only language is passion, love, and these words. They're my only proof.

Blessed be!


Appaloosa Deer
deer appaloosa

Children's Fairy Village
children's fairy village

Before the Parade
parade

Little Fairies
little fairy 2little fairy

Into the Woods
fairy parade 2

Butterfly Beach
butterflies

my guy

walking on stones

IMGP1446

green

All photos by Mario Milosevic except the three rock photographs, including the one with Mario in it; I took those.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/27/2005 09:45:00 AM
4 comments

Space 

The space issue still isn't cleared up. Sorry. At this point, I can't do much. I'm waiting on Blogger.

Thanks for your patience. You can scroll down to find the other posts. (Or if you're using some browsers, the space comes right after the title. Ain't it grand?)
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/27/2005 12:06:00 AM
1 comments

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Bounce Your Boobies 

The boob is gone, and the breasts are back! Remember the Shroud of Ashcroft? He was so embarrassed by the statue's breast that he had Justice covered up. (Hmmm, no metaphor there.) Now he's gone, and so is the drapery. Yeah! (Except this new guy appears to believe torture is OK and that the constitution is a dated document. But that's another story.) Now let's get the other boob out of office. Thanks to Kevin and Mario for keeping me abreast of things. (I'm sorry; I couldn't resist.)

P.S. Randi Rhodes starts out her show with "Bounce Your Boobies." "The swing is everything. Makes no difference if they're big or small as long as you give 'em your all." Here's a listen.

(The space problem is something with Blogger. They say they're working on it.)
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/26/2005 08:56:00 AM
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Friday, June 24, 2005

Public Bad 

I DESPISE eminent domain. I always have. I think it is blatant thievery by the government. The government took my grandpa's land. They didn't force him, as my father always reminds me. They paid him for it. To me, that's not the point. If it's your property, it's your property. In the past, one could argue that the government could take land (and pay for it) if it was clearly established that it was needed for a true public good, like a road (although I think they should just go around). But governmental entities have started condemning land when owners won't sell, and then they just take it, paying way below market value. That happened in our little burg recently. Someone owned a small house down by the river. The Port wanted it. The owner wouldn't sell it. So the city (or county, I can't remember which) condemned it and took it. It is outrageous.

Thursday the Supreme Court ruled that the government can decide to take your land for the "public good" in order for a third party to build a mall or a factory or a beauty salon. Think about it. You don't own your own home. Not really. Not if the government could take it at any time. (As Mario said, "That's really not any different than a communist state.") Individuals seem to have no rights. Business trumps everything now. I have been too upset and outraged by this to even write about it. It just boggles my mind. Tom has some articles on his site, and here's what the New York Times is saying. (I don't know what's causing this huge space after the post. I won't be able to work on it for a couple of days. Sorry.)
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/24/2005 11:46:00 PM
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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Free Speech on Trial 

The trial of Bush protestor June Brashares began yesterday. This Code Pinker unfurled an anti-Bush banner during his acceptance speech at the RNC last year. Two operatives pulled her away from the event, even though she had the right credentials. She is one of dozens of protestors who have been charged with crimes. Neither the Democrats or the Republicans have great records in this arena. None of them allowed protestors anywhere near their conventions. I seem to remember Medea Benjamin was thrown out of the DNC.

When did people forget that freedom of speech is a right guaranteed us in our constitution? And freedom of speech does not mean that only people who agree with us are allowed to speak. Although our founding fathers (where were those mothers?) had many flaws, including prejudices against women and blacks, out of the alchemy of their efforts to form this imperfect union came some nuggets of gold, including the freedom of speech. We need to hold onto that freedom. We need to use it and allow others to sing their own songs, too, no matter how discordant it sounds to us.

The Emperors and his fashionistas use words and language against people again and again. They keep changing the topic. They're going after Durbin now (he has even apologized) about comparing some of our practices regarding prisoners with the practices of the Soviets and the Nazis. So now the conversation is no longer about what exactly Rummy and his buddies are up to or about how they may have violated international and national law. It's about what Durbin said. I've heard Democrats jumping on the bandwagon. Jerry Springer on Air America has saying that words like "gulag" and "Nazi" should not be used when discussing the U.S. practices at Gitmo and Abu Ghraib. Why not? They're talking about censuring Durbin. WHAT? After all the obscene things Bill Frist has done? After all the obscene things the Emperor and his tailors have done? After all the obscene things Tom Delay has done? Don't let them change the subject. It's not about Durbin using the words Nazi and gulag. It's about what's happening in our name with our tax dollars.

Use your free speech—while you've still got it.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/22/2005 04:36:00 PM
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Beauty and the Beast 

As most of you have probably heard, the right is in full assault mode on PBS. The head of the CBC which doles out money to PBS is headed by Ken Tomlinson who claims PBS is not balanced. The right accuses all media of being liberal, but they have been going after PBS for years by trying to cut the funding to PBS through Congress (who allocates the money). The right idealogues say PBS is unbalanced because it is not a propaganda machine for the right. According to them, the only news balanced news is the news that comes out of their propaganda machine: The Fixed Network, i.e. Fox. When I listen to the news, I want it to be the news, not an editorial. I hate it when I can tell the political leanings the person reporting the news.

I have noticed in the last six months that PBS has used phrases in news stories which are very definitely "right." Of course, right this moment I can't think of the particular news stories, and I apologize for that. I remember being surprised at the time. They were doing a pledge drive for our PBS recently, and I didn't give a penny. I figured I wasn't going to send any of my hard-earned cash to an institution that was soon going to go the way of all our other (big) media outlets. It seemed as though they were just rolling over and letting Tomlinson have his way with them. However, I may be wrong. I hope so. Bill Moyers is not sitting on the sidelines during this fight. As always, his response to the accusation of bias and this attempt to kill PBS is reasoned, heartfelt, and well-considered.

I was a liberal arts major in college, and I have made fun of my liberal arts degrees for years. I've always said a liberal arts education has no practical use. However, the impracticalities of it have been gorgeous! You've heard the expression, "Do the right thing." I've said it. I've thought it. But what is the "right thing" to one person may not be the "right thing" to another. I like the idea of doing the beautiful thing. We almost always know what the beautiful thing is. Think about it.

Bill Moyers writes, "A liberal education . . . nurtures the moral imagination. I believe a liberal education is what we're [Public broadcasting] about. Performing arts, good conversation, history, travel, nature, critical documentaries, public affairs, children’s programs—at their best, they open us to other lives and other realms of knowing....When we succeed at this kind of programming, the public square is a little less polluted, a little less vulgar and our common habitat a little more hospitable. That is why we must keep trying our best. There are people waiting to give us an hour of their life—time they never get back—provided we give them something of value in return. This makes of our mission a moral transaction. Henry Thoreau got it right: 'To affect the quality of the day, is the highest of the arts.'"

Well, I'm off to try and affect the quality of my day.

May You Affect in Beauty!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/22/2005 02:23:00 PM
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Stop, Thief! 

Somebody was stealing from a change vendor. The owners couldn't figure out how it was happening, so they installed cameras. Wait until you see what they found. Isn't it great?
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/22/2005 12:49:00 PM
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Christian Left 

Here's more information on the Christian "left." I haven't read their site in depth or done much research, but at the outset, it sounds quite promising. They talk about Jesus the way I thought of Jesus when I was a girl. He was a revolutionary, challenging the power systems, fighting for the poor and downtrodden. (He should have had some girls in his all boy band—or maybe he did and the chroniclers left that part out. If the dude actually existed, that is. Although I suppose the fact of whether he lived and died doesn't matter any longer: his story exists.) Anyway, I first checked out what they say about gays and lesbians: "Discrimination against gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders—especially legally sanctioned discrimination—violates the Gospel-based values of justice and equality for all people. We support equality under the law for all Americans, regardless of sexual orientation..."

This is what they say about abortion: "Recognizing that Jesus teaches us by his example, we hold that he would treat women as full and complete partners today, just as he did in his own time. Therefore, we assert that creating secular laws to give control of a woman's body to the state is unchristian. We assert that compulsory childbearing (if Roe v. Wade were overturned), compulsory abortion (as in China), and compulsory childbearing or abortion based on the state's decision (as in Nazi Germany) all deny a woman's essential humanity and are immoral.

"International studies show that legal constraints on abortion have low impact on whether women actually get abortions. This means only that women will have illegal abortions, procedures that are often unsafe or lethal. Americans know, from the time before Roe v. Wade, that prohibiting safe abortion procedures led directly to deaths of multitudes of desperate and frightened women. Extremists who want to return us to that time are unlike the Jesus we know from the Gospels; they implicitly hold that the life of a woman does not matter. Our government has a moral obligation not to enact laws that have been shown by history to cause women injury or death."

And on the environment: "...We believe pillaging of the earth, its resources, and its creatures is a colossal failure of responsible stewardship and is also a failure to honor God, to whom the earth belongs...

"We insist that dismantling environmental laws and programs, measures that seek to protect creation and make it safer for our children is immoral and is a violation of our Christian duty."

About the war in Iraq: "Jesus knew power and he knew it could be used for justice or for conquest. Over and over, Jesus blessed his followers with peace and urged them to peace. Following his example, we call for restraint—not aggression—in the exercise of our nation's power..."

Now, it still makes me extremely nervous that people are using religious documents to justify public policy. However, I recognize that the right is using the bible to make all these claims to justify their actions as they try to demonize women, the poor, Iraqis, gays and lesbians, and those who seek to protect our civil rights and our environment. A bit of "bible turning" seems apropos. WWJD? I don't think he'd be shaking hands with the Emperor and his tailors.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/22/2005 11:32:00 AM
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Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Entangled 

It's late. Almost midnight. Mario and I had our program tonight. Twenty-five people attended, including us. That's a fairly good number for a weeknight. I always figure it ain't the number of people in an audience but the quality of the audience that matters, and we had good quality. I always plan to put on a good show if there's one person or one hundred. Mario and I had decided that I would give a short introduction about our beginnings. This was a mistake. Since I started off talking, it seemed more like my program than "our" program. I tried joking around with the group at first. I always forget that my sense of humor doesn't go over very well in this part of the country. (In other words, I can sooth my ego by thinking, "That joke would have killed in Detroit.")

Usually when Mario and I do a program together, we have a nice comfortable (and somewhat witty) repartee going on between us. It relaxes us and the crowd. Tonight, to me, Mario seemed a bit disengaged. He doesn't enjoy talking about himself in the first place, and this program was about our creativity and life together. Our talk seemed disjointed, to me, unfocused. It went on too long. Finally Mario started reading his poems from Love Life, and the audience was with him. I think they really wanted to hear more from Mario than from me, since most of them see him every week at work (which was fine with me).

Then it was my turn. I read my essay "Light" from Counting on Wildflowers. I had read it to Mario a few days ago, and we thought it sounded fine. It is a good essay, but I was a bit worried that it was too long. When I still had about five pages to read, I could tell the audience was getting tired—at least I thought they were weary. So I stopped and tried to summarize the essay, which didn't really work. If I could have written it better shorter, I would have. Then Mario read more poems, and people asked us questions. Most of the questions were directed to Mario, which told us he hadn't talked enough during our presentation.

We sold some books, though, which is nice. I felt we hadn't given as good of a presentation as we could have. Mario thought we did great but I broke the storytelling spell when I interrupted myself reading "Light." He thought the audience had been with me. But I had seen three people with their eyes closed!

I wasn't very happy by the time I got home. It was not my best performance. Mario was satisfied and excited. Who knows whose perception was correct. We decided for our next presentation we would do completely separate segments, like we usually do. We collaborate well in our life together, but we don't do well collaborating on creative pieces unless our roles are completely separated and clearly defined.

More than you probably wanted to know. But there you have the "other side" of an event.

Once home, we ate blueberry cake and frozen bananas mixed into soft ice "cream" and watched an awful movie. Then we watched another one to get the taste of the awful one out of our brains—and to keep me from having nightmares from the first movie.

Now it is time bed. Another day, another day.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/21/2005 11:36:00 PM
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Entanglements at Midsummer 

Ahhhh, it's that time of year, isn't it? Outdoor concerts, graduations, anniversaries. This weekend we had a mini-blues festival here in town, down by the water. It started to storm midway through, so I didn't stay long. After Mario got off work we went to (Linda's daughter) Serena's graduation party. In Michigan, we call them graduation open houses. People drop in and out, leaving presents—mostly money—and they usually happen on the same day (or days) so you can go from one to another. As I stood looking at Serena's photos through the years, I got a lump in my throat, and I was glad I was wearing sunglasses. It was difficult to believe the little girl who sprawled on our living room floor watching movies was now the same person who was graduating from high school, moving on to college in the fall. I know it's a cliche. I don't have the words right now to describe how much I love her and her mother. You all have the same feelings for people in your life. I'm sorry her mother is sick, and I hope her future is filled with happiness and joy. Blessed be.

You've been hearing about Linda and Serena for years now, so here they are, at the party on Saturday. Linda is telling us all about what a joy it has been to have such a wonderful person as her daughter.
serena and linda

On Sunday, Mario and I cleaned out our back porch, then we put up a fence. When we went to the hardware store in town to get fence posts, I noticed a fish in the window—one of those Christian fishes. I guess I had the devil in me because I said, "What does that fish mean?" "What fish?" "That fish in the window." The guy looked down. "Does that mean if I'm not Christian I can't shop here?" "Naw, that fish has been in the window for thirty years." Hmmmm. I don't know if that was true, and I don't know why I was so ornery about it. I guess I was tired of it being shoved in my face.

All weekend, I kept sneaking looks at the front pages of newspapers we passed or turning on the news when we were in the car. My sweet husband was attempting to keep me unplugged after noticing I seemed to be headed for a brown-out—in a loving and humorous manner, of course. At one point, he said, "You don't want to really hear that do you?" He was referring to the news on NPR. "Well, how am I going to be an informed citizen if I don't read the papers, listen to the news, or go online?" "Read People like everyone else," he said. That left me giggling. He's a charmer, my guy.

He was also not happy with putting up the fence, etc. He doesn't like outdoor work, to say the least, but he was pleased our cheap little fence only took about an hour to put up. As you may remember, I took down the other fence because it was falling apart, plus I couldn't see my garden from the dining table, just the fence. This time I decided to make our porch the south part of the fence, so now our yard and porch are fenced in. The Kuan Yin Peace garden is on the other side, but I can still see her when I'm sitting in the Addie chairs on the porch.

I don't have a "before" picture, so you could see what a mess the porch had been. We usually clean it up once a year. Now it'll be a nice place to sit during the hot summer days. We eat lunch and sometimes dinner out here. Mario will sit here while I'm working in the garden.

Our camera took this photo, so we'll blame it for the poor everything, except for the fact that we look a bit peculiar. We have to take the credit for that.
porch 1

Yesterday was Solstice. I know many people believe today, Tuesday, is Solstice, but it isn't. Since last year was leap year and the Solstices and Equinoxes are points in time with an exact length of time between them, the date of the Solstice varies from year to year. When our calendar is adjusted for leap year, it takes a year (more or less) to get the Solstices back on the 21st. Winter Solstice is on the 20th this year too. They're not exactly moveable feasts...but sort of.

We got up and hiked Falling Creek. I'm so irritated that Falling Creek (not its real name) is getting publicity. As I've said before, fame does not bode well for sacred and beautiful places. When we used to go on Mondays, no one else would be there, same with midweek. Yesterday, five people were ahead of us on the trail. All of that would be OK, of course. I'm not really that selfish. It's just that more people mean more wear and tear on the place. Plus people feel the need to leave their @#!* toilet paper everywhere. When we got to the falls, the five people were chattering away, with no sense of...common courtesy. I'm sure if cell phones worked out there they would have all been using their cell phones.

Mario and I enjoyed ourselves anyway. As we were walking toward the falls, I stopped at one point and said, "You know, midsummer and Solstice, this time of year, is when you're supposed to be able to see fairies more easily. So some say." Mario nodded. I don't know that either of us believed or disbelieved this little piece of information, but we started walking again. About six steps later, Mario said, "Kim, look down." At my feet was a sticker someone had dropped. A sticker of a leprechaun! We laughed. "Well, I guess it's true," I said.

The woods were rather strange on Monday. Both of us remarked on it. We couldn't quite describe what it was: but it felt like everything was something else. I saw a girl sitting off to the side of the trail, her legs pulled up to her chest, and I thought it a bit strange she was sitting in that spot, but I was very startled to realize it was a stump. This happened a couple of times. My heart started racing. I told myself to breathe deeply: I wasn't insane. It was just nature. I remembered when I was a girl I would sometimes see things. I told my parents, at first. My mother was (and is) extremely afraid of insanity. I'm sure she thought I was crazy and took me to a doctor. Once they had me go through all kinds of tests because they thought I might have a brain tumor because the room would spin at night (I think I've mentioned this before). The message I got from all this brouhaha was that seeing things made someone crazy or sick, so my body automatically produces those anxiety chems when anything like this happens. Still, I felt a bit connected to Nature for a little while, as if everything was trying to communicate with us. Thank you, Nature spirits!

I didn't lighten up this photo because this is exactly how it looks on the trail (Falling Creek). It is very dark.
fc trail

Some gorgeous Oregon Grape. I doubt this is healthy, but it certainly is beautiful.
oregon grape

In the dark forest, this white snag was like a long slender light—or the odd one out, just a bit tipsy.
snag

At this point in the trail, we're just a few minutes from the falls. The weather and ecosystem are different here from the rest of the trail—a kind of microclimate of its own. The plants are succulent, for the most part, and it's moist here nearly all year round.
wall

We're almost at the falls. You can see part of them and get a sense of the size of everything if you use my five feet tall frame as a measure.
near the falls

'nuff said.
the falls

After our hike, we went home and sat on the back porch making prayer flags. We wrote out our wishes on them and then tied them to a string above the fence. I put the string (and the flags) up to protect the deer. I didn't want them running into the fence and hurting themselves. We asked the Wind to carry our wishes to their destination so that they might come true.

Today we're getting ready for a program tonight at the library. Together Mario and I are going to talk about our twenty-five years together, plus we'll read from our latest books. We hope to sell a few, too. The program is called Entanglements.

Tonight is Full Moon. Enjoy.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/21/2005 11:30:00 AM
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Sunday, June 19, 2005

Solstice Eve Storm 

This is the view from my window—southern exposure. (Some of you have asked to see more of what it looks like where I live.) I was outside when I took the photo, but this is what I see from my computer, although my brain blocks out all the damn telephone wires, etc. At dusk, a storm from Eugene (southwest of here) rolled on up to us. It felt like it was going to be a great juicy storm.
church

When I talk about the gorge mountains or hills in my posts, these are what I'm speaking of. They're on the other side of the Columbia River, which I can sometimes just see through the vestibule windows, but I can't see it in the photo above. Mario thought this photo was fuzzy, but this is actually what it looked like. Strange colors and light.
gorge

This is a west view of the storm. I know I should have cropped out the telephone pole, but I really liked that cloud.
more storm cloud

Another southern view.
gorge storm v

This is western view, over by the school.
storm by the school

This was such a cool cloud. Below it, light came through a break in the clouds. It reminded me of a chicken's egg cracking open.
storm cloud 2

storm cloud 3

Mario came out and joined me for a bit. Then the wind started blowing, and it got warm and muggy. It reminded me so much of Michigan and the great thunderstorms we used to get. But, the storm passed us by. Lots of lightning and a bit of thunder, but it only sprinkled. Storm interruptus.
storm cloud marioi
The photo above is looking west. Below the cool cloud is Hamilton Mountain as well as other mountains whose names always escape me. In the daylight, you could see that part of the mountain ridges had slid away, exposing the cake-like layers of the inside of the mountain, delicious colorful layers: rust, green, silver, brown. Our rented house is between the yellow house you see in the middle of the photo and the church (that's its steeple). My garden is behind that group of evergreens by the yellow house. In fact that spot of white in the evergreens is my white chair by the garden. Mario and I were standing on the lawn of the elementary school when I took this photo.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/19/2005 10:02:00 PM
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Thursday, June 16, 2005

John Conyers Delivers 

Here are some great photos of Conyers and friends at the White House to deliver the petition. By the way, they are re-playing the Downing Street Memo hearings on C-Span 2 tomorrow at 8:00 p.m. EST, I believe. Check C-Span to be sure.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/16/2005 10:16:00 PM
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Winding Down With Imperfection 

My husband has a concerned look on his face. It's quite touching. And amusing. I'm not sleeping, and I'm a bit wound up. Time to disconnect for a bit. I know you've heard that before. In an effort to do so, I shall post some photos that celebrate imperfection. I really should do drugs. Although it may be drugs that have me so wound up. The asthma chems do that, don't you know, and I've had my share in these past couple of weeks as I try to keep my lungs open and working. But enough about me. Three of these are from the old Pentax 1000, so they were scanned into the computer. I didn't feel like cropping them—too many extra steps so we'll have to live with the imperfection of the black lines on the edges.

Waterlogged Trillium: from Falling Creek a couple of years ago
trillium waterlogged

Devil's Matchstick: about a 1/4 to 1/2 inch tall
devil's matchstick

Falling Creek: I did this a few years ago. Mario was trying to teach me how to take long exposure photos. Several things happened with this photo. First, once it was processed, it looked like an old photo. Second, it looked like we had taken several photos or that the camera had shaken during the exposure. The camera was on a tripod and there was no wind and no multiple exposures. The third thing that happened, which you can't see here, is that when I printed it, it turned red. It was gorgeous. I ended up using it as a cover for The Salmon Mysteries. Even though many things may be "wrong" with the photo, I believe it captures, for an instant, the spirit and essence of this beautiful place.
falls creek:cover salmon

Blue Sky: It's the corner of our house. I just like this pic. I don't care what anyone says.
blue sky

Tulip
tulip 3
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/16/2005 05:48:00 PM
1 comments

Obstructionist 

OK. One more thing. The Republicans have a new watchword: obstructionists. That's what they're calling the Dems. The Dems keep saying, "No, no, see how well we work together. We're not obstructionists." Hey, Reps and Senators, STOP THIS ADMINISTRATION. BE A FREAKING OBSTRUCTIONIST. If you are impeding the progress of something that is corrupt (to say the least) be proud! Or be humble. I don't care. Just do it. And fight this Bolton nomination. Don't give in this time. Get some ovaries, balls, some kind of gonads and do the right thing. Do the beautiful thing.

I'm listening to Randi Rhodes. (She just used the same Michael Jackson example as I used in the last post. Funny.) People are demonstrating in Phoenix, in solidarity with what happened in D.C. These demonstrations are going on all over the country. There probably won't be media coverage. But you know what? If the media doesn't cover something, THAT DOESN'T MEAN IT DIDN'T HAPPEN. This is a grassroots movement--this is a people's movement--and I truly think the worm is turning. Don't you?

Remember, today people spoke the truth outloud in Washington, D.C. It was recorded. It will be replayed on C-Span 2 tonight and tomorrow night. They delivered the letter to the White House with our names on it. Feel good that you are doing your part, whatever that is.

Power to the People!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/16/2005 03:27:00 PM
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Downing Street Memo Hearing 

Hearing, forum, meeting. Whatever. It's happened. They are now on their way to present a letter from 120 members of Congress and 560,000 other people to the Emperor, a letter which asks for answers to the questions raised by the DSM. By the way, you should read this exchange between the press secretary and reporters. He's such an asshole. I'm sorry, but nice words just fail me right now. He says the Emperor will not answer the questions because they've been answered. What? Doublespeak, doublespeak.

Did you watch/listen to the hearing? They were in this tiny little room. I could hear people coughing. I bet the room was airless, too. I was glad to hear people talking about what really happened before the war with Iraq started. There was no evidence of WMD. It was good (awful) to hear from a mother who lost her son in the war. (That's a strange expression. She didn't lose him. He was killed.) One lawyer who was testifying said Bush may have committed impeachable offenses. I am very glad someone in our government is talking about these things. I really wish the Republicans had been there. Our government is bipartisan. I wanted to see these people questioned vigorously by the other side. That's just the way we do things.

I keep hearing these supposedly respected journalists say they haven't been covering the Downing Street Memo because it isn't news: they already knew what Bush had done. Pardon me? Where did these people go to journalism school? Of course it is news. The leaking of the memo is news. The fact that they illegally went to war is news. Are you saying it is old news? Get out of the beltway, fellahs. And who cares if YOU knew what Bush had done. Your job is to report it. I mean, you probably already knew Michael Jackson was strange but that sure hasn't kept you from reporting that for week after week after week.

Have you noticed that every time someone criticizes the Emperor and his fashionistas, those people are then criticized for what they say. The admin. doesn't really deny what they've done, but the attitude is "how dare they" say gulag or how dare they compare us to the Nazis. Right now they're going after Dick Durbin for criticizing how the "detainees" (they prisoners, OK) are being treated. Then all the media make that the story, rather than the actions of this administration. In other words, maybe the prison system is a gulag, maybe these people are acting like Nazis. Look into it! Be a journalist, for chrissakes. I gotta tell ya, I've researched repressive governments since I was knee high to someone's knee and this government fits the bill. Many, if not most, of the people in Guantanamo Bay are innocent of any wrongdoing. Many were bought by our government. They said, "We'll pay you $4,000 for an Arab male in Afghanistan." So the war lords went out and rounded up Arabs. These men (and some boys) were tortured in Afghanistan first and then bound and hooded and sent to Gitmo. They had not done anything except being Arab while walking. And even those who were part of the Taliban had often been conscripted. "You join us or we'll kill you." Remember, we had promised to help those who helped us but we deserted the Afghan people. The Taliban rose to power in the vacuum left by the US betrayal and years of war with Russia. Many of those unwilling draftees into the Taliban would have welcomed the downfall of the Taliban. Instead, the US has them held incommunicado in Cuba. And according to testimony given yesterday by someone from the Attorney General's office it is the position of the United States that these people can be held forever. FOREVER.

OK. Sorry this is not more specific. And I apologize ahead of time for any typos. For some reason I am flat wrung out. I need to chill for a moment or week or something.

Take care, my brothers and sisters.

By the way, here is the letter we sent to the Emperor:

Letter to Pres Bush Concerning the "Downing Street Minutes" The Honorable George W. Bush
President of the United States of America
1600 Pennsylvania Ave, N.W.
Washington, D.C. 20005

Dear Mr. President:

We the undersigned write because of our concern regarding recent disclosures of a Downing Street Memo in the London Times, comprising the minutes of a meeting of Prime Minister Tony Blair and his top advisers. These minutes indicate that the United States and Great Britain agreed, by the summer of 2002, to attack Iraq, well before the invasion and before you even sought Congressional authority to engage in military action, and that U.S. officials were deliberately manipulating intelligence to justify the war.

Among other things, the British government document quotes a high-ranking British official as stating that by July, 2002, Bush had made up his mind to take military action. Yet, a month later, you stated you were still willing to "look at all options" and that there was "no timetable" for war. Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, flatly stated that "[t]he president has made no such determination that we should go to war with Iraq."

In addition, the origins of the false contention that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction remain a serious and lingering question about the lead up to the war. There is an ongoing debate about whether this was the result of a "massive intelligence failure," in other words a mistake, or the result of intentional and deliberate manipulation of intelligence to justify the case for war. The memo appears to resolve that debate as well, quoting the head of British intelligence as indicating that in the United States "the intelligence and facts were being fixed around the policy."

As a result of these concerns, we would ask that you respond to the following questions:
1)Do you or anyone in your administration dispute the accuracy of the leaked document?
2) Were arrangements being made, including the recruitment of allies, before you sought Congressional authorization to go to war? Did you or anyone in your Administration obtain Britain's commitment to invade prior to this time?
3) Was there an effort to create an ultimatum about weapons inspectors in order to help with the justification for the war as the minutes indicate?
4) At what point in time did you and Prime Minister Blair first agree it was necessary to invade Iraq?
5) Was there a coordinated effort with the U.S. intelligence community and/or British officials to "fix" the intelligence and facts around the policy as the leaked document states?

These are the same questions 89 Members of Congress, led by Rep. John Conyers, Jr., submitted to you on May 5, 2005. As citizens and taxpayers, we believe it is imperative that our people be able to trust our government and our commander in chief when you make representations and statements regarding our nation engaging in war. As a result, we would ask that you publicly respond to these questions as promptly as possible.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

560,000 people signed, along with at least 120 Congress people
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/16/2005 02:40:00 PM
1 comments

New Issue: Journal of Mythic Arts 

The new issue of Journal of Mythic Arts is now up. I can't wait to read it all. If you're interested in story, myth, fairy tales, and art, you would probably enjoy this journal lovingly edited by Terri Windling and Midori Snyder. Mario has a poem in it, too. It's called "Settled on the Sky." Drop in and luxuriate in thoughtful, visionary words and art.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/16/2005 02:03:00 PM
0 comments

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

CNN Will NOT Broadcast Conyers Hearing 

So it won't surprise you that CNN is not going to broadcast the Conyers Downing Street Memo hearings live. In fact, they are going to tape it and show bits of it on Inside Politics. (Does anyone wonder why Judy Woodruff is leaving—or is she gone already?) Speaking of Judy Woodruff, apparently the right-wingers hate her. Geez, is it because she was a good journalist? After twelve years on CNN, I wonder if she still is a good journalist? CNN says (I called them—even though I don't have TV and couldn't watch it anyway) they'll tape the Conyers hearing and then talk about it on Inside Politics. I said, "So in other words, you're not going to broadcast this news event because you aren't really a news outlet." I was polite because the poor girl on the phone probably doesn't know nothing about nothing. I bet if some celebrity was talking about whether or not s/he did X or Y, they'd cover it.

It's disgusting.

And now I shall stop ranting about it. I've got a novel to write, joy to experience, and a garden to replant. (Global warming, you know.)

Ta!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/15/2005 02:48:00 PM
1 comments

C-Span Will Cover Memogate Forum 

C-Span 3 will broadcast the John Conyers forum on the Downing Street Memo. Thursday, 2:30 p.m. E.S.T. C-Span 3.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/15/2005 11:23:00 AM
0 comments

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

'nite 

'nite
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/14/2005 11:12:00 PM
0 comments

All the Hard News 

Kevin keeps sending me these wonderful editorial cartoons. I really need to check out Pat Oliphant more often. This cartoon (June 14) neatly sums up what we've been talking about.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/14/2005 10:18:00 PM
2 comments

Have You Heard? 

Democracy: RIP. The Republicans will not allow John Conyers to hold the Downing Street Memo hearings (or forums as they are required to call them) in the Capital Building. The little fascist twits. So they're going somewhere else. This probably means no C-Span, though, and no media coverage. What are the Republicans so afraid of? Democracy, apparently.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/14/2005 07:16:00 PM
0 comments

Ahhhhhh 

ferns
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/14/2005 06:33:00 PM
0 comments

More on Memogate 

This editorial review in the London Sunday Times gives a good summary of what the Downing Street Memo shows. For one, the Emperor was dropping bombs on Iraq long before Congress said he could go to war. "No bombs were dropped on southern Iraq in March 2002 but by July, with the 'spikes of activity' in full flow, about 10 tons of bombs were being dropped a month. The problem was that the Iraqis didn’t retaliate. They didn’t provide the excuse Bush and Blair needed.

"So at the end of August the allies started the air war anyway. The number of bombs dropped on southern Iraq shot up to 54.6 tons in September alone...

"...They show that Bush and Blair began their war, not in March 2003 as most believed, but at the end of August 2002, six weeks before Bush received his congressional backing, and more than two months before the UN vote."

It'll be interesting to see if any of the corporate media covers the John Conyers hearing on the Downing Street Memo or his march to the White House to give the Emperor the petition demanding answers to his questions about the memo. (You can still sign his petition if you haven't already.)

P.S. To my British friends out there: I've noticed lately that The Guardian doesn't seem to be covering the Iraq war or the Downing Street Memo. Am I wrong? Has it changed or am I just clueing into something I missed before? What is the best source for true international news from London? The Times?
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/14/2005 12:30:00 PM
2 comments

Monday, June 13, 2005

All For a Lie 

As those of you know who regularly read FS, I've written again and again about all the lies the Emperor and his tailors have told. I've talked about how I am so perplexed by my fellow Americans. Why don't they care about what the Emperor is doing? I know that many of you share my frustration. This piece by Beth Quinn, "Soldiers Died for a Lie," does a good job of expressing my exasperation (to put it mildly). I would change the title, however. It should be "Civilians and Soldiers Died for a Lie." Can you tell me why people don't seem to care? I'm not tuned into the corporate media these days, but friends have told me that all the news outlets have been "reporting" crap about Michael Jackson's trial, Russell Crowe doing something violent, and Tom Cruise doing something bizarre. I want to scream. WHO THE FUCK CARES???????? Over 100,000 people have died in Iraq because of US. Over 1,700 US soldiers have died because of this war. Hundreds of innocent people have been held in detention for YEARS. All because of a LIE.

We've been told this is the Information Age. I think we are involved in an Information War. The Emperor lies. He says the sky is green and soon everyone says the sky is green. (Or as Quinn says, Bush says we don't breathe oxygen so everyone soon agrees.) Do you remember reading all those apocalyptic books like Brave New World and 1984? In these stories, all our individuality was gone. The world seemed bleak and cold, a place where everyone thought the same things and did the same things, all controlled by information the power structure meted out to them. Well, welcome to the future. Or the Disinformation Age, as my husband calls it. Throw off those rose-colored-attached-to-the-corporate-feed glasses, my sisters and brothers! We can be communal and still think for ourselves.

Resistance is futile.

Well, then bring on futility! I'll erect a statue to it. I'll make it my goddess! I shall resist.

It looks like many military families, here and in Britain, are asking questions about the Downing Street Memo(s) too. They entrusted their daughters, sons, wives, husbands, friends, and relatives to governments that lied to them. Some might conclude that lies are the essential organs of government. Unfortunately that is what often happens. The organs of government are lying human beings. We need to stop accepting that as a fact of our governments. (Yes, you can all stop laughing now. I know how naive that sounds.)

So in the spirit of thumbing my nose at "them," I shall dance into the kitchen and make my main squeeze some blueberry cake. I've started making the flour myself. (Very difficult: I pour rolled oats into the Cuisinart and press "on." The blade turns the oats into flour.)

Dance, babies, dance!

May You All Eat Blueberries in Beauty.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/13/2005 09:46:00 PM
0 comments

Says It All 

Kevin just sent me this wonderful political cartoon by Don Wright. I couldn't find a hard link to it, so go here, and then in the right in the Don Wright box, click on Thursday to get the June 9th cartoon. (Actually all of them for last week were great.) Priceless, as they say. Here's one from a while ago called Bush and the Twin Towers. Thanks, Kev.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/13/2005 07:58:00 PM
0 comments

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Fallen 

How was your weekend? I was sick most of mine, so I spent it on my couch; I'm on the mend, I believe, knock on a freakin' forest. Read some good books, saw some strange movies. Not going to be more specific since it's past my bed time. Took some pics on our first hike in a couple of weeks this morning, at Falling Creek. We usually don't go on Sunday. One of the big city newspapers put Falling Creek on its front page again, so the woods were full of touristas. They've done this twice now. If it happens a third time I might just have to talk to them boys about it. Remind them this here is the west and we don't like strangers on our land. (That's would all be said in a western accent, of course.) After the twentieth or so person passed us on the trail, Mario said, "I thought people didn't read newspapers anymore."

This was taken through the windshield on the way to the trailhead.
falls creek

Wild Rose. Mario really liked the detail on this photo.
wild rose

Salal. Mario took this. Isn't it great? The detail is incredible. He thinks he used a flash on this one.salal

Leaves. I should know what this is, but my brain can't quite capture the information. Mario liked the detail on this one, too, so here it is.
leaves

I liked the light and shadow on this.
leaves three

Giants.
walking amongst giants

Fallen Giant. OK, maybe a medium giant. All the rain has caused this tree to topple and the hillside is sliding. On the other side of the bridge, the trail continues to the falls, but the battery on the camera went dead. No falls photos today. A waterfall runs below this bridge. It's usually dry at this time of year. Actually it was dry in March.
fallen giant

Several of your liked the White Leaves, so here's White Leaves 2. It looks good on the desktop, too. You can just drag it (or any of the photos) to your desktop and then go to your system preferences and add it to your desktop if you want to see what it looks like. (At least on a Mac; don't know how to do that on a PC.)

white leaves 2

May You Sleep in Beauty!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/12/2005 11:55:00 PM
1 comments

Friday, June 10, 2005

Where Are We Headed? 

Did you hear/see Rep. (reprehensible) Sensenbrenner adjourn (without consent) a hearing on the Patriot Act that the Dems. had called? (Listen to it here or here.) This government is looking more and more repressive every hour. The Democrats were in the majority for years. I don't remember them pulling crap like this. We are not a mono-party country. We are bi-partisan. We're supposed to thrive on debate. What the hell are the Republicans afraid of? THEY'VE GOT ALL THE POWER. They're afraid because they know they don't deserve it, they know they are wrong, and they know it is all fleeting. The worm is turning!

The Republicans don't know how to be a majority party. A majority party must make room for the minority. They must bend over backwards to air the viewpoint of the minority. Not that the Democrats deserve much praise lately either. For the most part, I think the Dems have pissed and moaned and compromised away any advantage they may have had in the Senate when they were threatening to filibuster the judges. As far as I can tell, they got NOTHING, while the Republicans got all their judges. But Representatives John Conyers and Sheila Jackson Lee are doing their part by speaking truth to power. If you can, listen to the hearing that Reprehensible Sensenbrenner walked out on today (see links above), at least to the last ten minutes or so.

House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi released this statement about the Reprehensible's temper tantrum:

"The Republicans' abuse of power reached a new low this morning when they tried to silence Democrats at a hearing on the Patriot Act by cutting the microphones.

"Chairman Sensenbrenner proved again today that he is afraid of ideas, and that Republicans will stop at nothing to silence Democrats. It is quite ironic that at a hearing on the impact of the Patriot Act on civil liberties, the Republicans attempted to suppress free speech.

"This is part of Republican abuses of power: to silence Democrats and the voice of the minority, to deny millions of Americans a voice in Congress. Republican leaders dictate the party line and ram bills through committees, and permit few if any amendments on the floor. Republicans are unwilling and unable to compete in the marketplace of ideas, so they have chosen to arbitrarily and capriciously abuse their power simply because they can.

"Democrats will not be silenced when we uphold our oath of office to protect and defend our Constitution and civil liberties as we protect and defend the American people. I commend Judiciary Committee Democrats for continuing to question witnesses after the Republicans' shameful behavior, and for standing up for the institution of the House.

"This incident is the latest in a series of disgraceful conduct by Mr. Sensenbrenner. Last month, he misused an official committee report to mischaracterize in a derogatory manner amendments offered by three Democratic Members. As a result, the House was required to authorize the filing of a supplemental report, which contained significant changes, to correct the record.

"As House Democratic Leader, I expect all Members to be treated by the majority with dignity and respect. I will ask Speaker Hastert to order Mr. Sensenbrenner to apologize for his behavior to the witnesses at the hearing today, and to promise that this will never again happen."

One of the witnesses, Deborah Pearlstein from Human Rights First said that according to Pentagon reports, more then 100 people in U.S. custody have died since 2002. (These are not from Abu Ghraib, she said.) They've determined that at least twenty-eight of those deaths were homicides. Of those, half were tortured to death. In the United States of America, one hundred people in custody—most for supposed immigration violations—have died. Twenty-eight were murdered. At least fourteen of those were tortured to death. But Sensenbrenner doesn't want to talk about any of that.

Our tax dollars at work.

Some good news today. Philip Cooney, the guy who doctored the climate reports for the Emperor and his tailors, resigned yesterday, saying he had been looking into his options for some time now. Uh-huh. Bubye now.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/10/2005 09:21:00 PM
0 comments

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Anti-Gay Phone Company 

"Hello, did you press one to indicate you're against same sex marriage?"

"So if I press one it'll eliminate same sex marriage?"

I just heard a real phone call between Eugene Mirman and a telemarketer for an anti-gay phone company. It's funny—and terrifying. Listen to these three phone conversations and be astounded. The woman on the other end of the phone just thinks it's great when Mirman (tongue-in-cheek) says he wants to crush gays with the fist of god. She reports with horror that some other phone companies "train" their employees in the gay lifestyle. Give me a break! I will say once again that I just do not understand this strange obsession by conservatives with "the gay and lesbian lifestyle." Their focus on what other people do in the confines of their own homes is perverted, don't you think? Hey, you, it ain't something you can catch. Really. I wish it were. Maybe then you'd all loosen up a bit. Maybe if you all had some normal loving—and by normal I mean loving, consensual, and passionate—you'd focus more on your own freakin' lives!

OK. Just had to get that out of my system.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/09/2005 02:44:00 PM
3 comments

What Kevin Said... 

...and Claudia, Steve, Sally, Jason, Tom, Patricia...I love hearing from the readers of Furious Spinner. Even when I only write back a few lines—which is most of the time—I love getting your emails. I like knowing that people all over the planet are reading FS.

Kevin, my friend in Hawaii, recently wrote to remind me that, “Our government may represent us, but right now it is NOT us.” Yes, absolutely. Our government is NOT us. I need to remember that. Millions of people did not vote for Bush. I bet that even most of those who did aren’t very happy with him right now.

Claudia, a member of our local peace group (and a Furious Spinner reader) reported tonight from Massachusetts, where she is visiting. Remember Massachusetts has legalized gay marriages. Claudia says she is so happy to be in a liberal state, surrounded by liberals at every turn. She wrote, “You know that one horrible church that goes around the country demonstrating at gay funerals etc. with signs that say ‘God hates fags’? Well, they're hitting Mass hard this summer 'cause of the legal marriage thing. They're demonstrating outside churches that they feel support this ‘abomination.’ In other words, most churches in Mass. They went to Lexington the other day, standing and shouting their hatred outside this one church. Well, their coming was known ahead of time, so all the churches in town got together and they had a large group of counter-protesters surround the targeted church, link arms, turn their backs to the GHF idiots, and they let them shout themselves hoarse. They stood between them and the church, arms linked, backs turned, in total silence. I was SO proud to be from Mass at that moment.”

Halleluia, Massachusetts! When I told Mario this story, he said, “You want to move there?”

Steve in Nevada wrote to say that his house is now “100% solar powered! Due to a generous rebate program though our local utility, we've been able to acquire a photovoltaic system that powers our home and sends excess green power back into the grid. We're driving hybrids, using carpet from recycles soda bottles, healthy paint that has no off gassing and eating vegetarian! Thought you might like to know that even in Las Vegas there are some of us who are working toward a better world.”

I am so inspired when I hear stories like this.

Yasmine in London, who has generously answered all my inquiries about life in Pakistan for my novel Camel Jockey, mentioned a wonderful Caravaggio exhibition at the National Gallery she had recently attended. This brought back memories of the couple of summers that I spent in London. It has been a long time since I have been to a world class art museum. Frankly, I’ve never been to an art museum in the United States that compares with the museums in London and Paris. (Granted, I have never been to any museums on the East Coast.) I loved the way Caravaggio and Vermeer used light. The other day a friend saw my Blue River photos and asked if I was thinking of Vermeer when I took the photos. Absolutely. The light, the light...

And Sally wrote to tell me about birdwatching in Magee Marsh in Ohio, near where she lives. Genevieve laughed at my deer laughing at me and told me about the deer in her area and the fence they are rebuilding which will have to be tall enough to keep the deer out. She paints pictures and sometimes teaches art in their village in Canada, somewhere in the relative vicinity of Nelson. She reassures me that she likes dishes, too, so I don’t feel quite so odd for hoarding bowls and then photographing them. Most recently I heard from Trish who loved the photographs. She lives in Northern California and the photos reminded her that she might like to get outside and take advantage of her beautiful surroundings, too. And I heard from Beth, who liked the photos, too. Hi, Beth. I hadn’t heard from her for a while so it was nice to “hear” her voice.

Now my tired voice is saying it’s time for bed. Thanks for reading, and thanks for writing. Your comments are always welcome. Remember now you can actually comment at the bottom of the post if you like.

May You Sleep in Beauty!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/09/2005 12:00:00 AM
1 comments

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Global Warming Fairy Tales 

Well, here it is. The Emperor With No Clothes and his tailors got a report on global warming. They looked around for someone to read the report. Did they pick a scientist? Nooooo, child, they did not. Did they find someone who was at least well-versed in scientific methodology? Noooo, you naive liberal you. Did they find someone who would no way benefit from changing the report? No, not even close. Instead they had Philip A. Cooney, "a White House official who once led the oil industry's fight against limits on greenhouse gases" edit government climate reports "in ways that play down links between such emissions and global warming." Essentially, this means that a mouthpiece for Exxon changed a scientific report so that it looked like global warming wasn't happening.

Many of us have been saying for years that the oil companies were writing our country's environmental policy and now we have proof! It is OBSCENE. I don't get it. These people have to live in this world. They and their families are going to be hurt by global catastrophe, too. No amount of money is going to protect anyone from the chaos that has already started. Why don't they face the truth and then figure out what to do? Greedy stupid bastards. Or else they are demented. Or stuck in the wrong fairy tale. They're still following around The Emperor With No Clothes. Get your eyes and brains fixed, you poor devils!

Years ago scientists really should have called global warming something else. Weather chaos, perhaps. Superweather, maybe. No, sounds too much like a friend of Superman's. I can't count how many people have said to me, "But it's not getting warmer; it's getting colder." And I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying something cruel and then explain that the global temperature is rising and this causes chaotic weather conditions which means sometimes you're cold when before you would have been warm and vice versa.

In any case, it's time to wake up. HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME.

We are not living happily ever after.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/08/2005 03:14:00 PM
0 comments

Pig in Slop 

I've discovered I can get C-Span on my computer, so I'm just so tickled. We had gotten rid of TV and then brought it back so I could hear the filibuster arguments on C-Span. After that whole thing was over, we had our cable turned off again. (We get zero reception here so you either have cable/dish or nothing.) But I was missing C-Span. It finally occured to me to check out their website. Ahhhh. Now I can listen/watch to our government in action/inaction. I can't watch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, however. They changed to Windows MediaPlayer, and I'm really trying to stay away from Microsoft products, so I can't watch it. I can also stream Air America and all kinds of NPR stations. This morning while I was working, I listened to Michael Cunningham talk about his new book Specimen Days for an hour on The Diane Rehm Show on an Arizona NPR station. I was in bliss.

Pig in freakin' slop, I is.

Time to go outside and sit on some grass, look at my flowers, work in my garden. I'm a bit too plugged in me thinks. I wonder if my wi-fi works near my garden...
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/08/2005 02:34:00 PM
0 comments

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Crash 

We just saw the movie Crash. It is an amazing movie. If you wanted to see one movie about racism, this would be it.

It's not a perfect movie. I'm not sure the framing device works, and the Brendan Frasier character seems a bit young to be the District Attorney of Los Angeles. I'm certain others have criticized the movie because everything "fits," i.e. too many coincidences. The movie is a kind of moving meditation on racism, so the connections between the people work to show racism as a familiar—almost familial or habitual—circle. It also is not an exploration of any other kind of bias besides racism, i.e. gender bias. A cop puts his hand up a woman's dress and assaults her with his fingers. In many parts of the country this would be considered a form of rape (rightfully so); I think in real life the woman would have been a bit more upset than she was in reel life. But these are quibbles.

I don't often get surprised when I read a book or watch a movie. As I've mentioned before, I usually have the plot of a movie or novel figured out within five minutes or two pages, depending on the medium. (For instance I picked up Presumed Innocent when Mario was reading it many years ago. I read the first page, page and a half, and I looked at Mario and said, "I know who did it." He wanted to know who, so I told him. "The wife.") Anyway, Crash surprised me again and again.

In some ways it reminded me of Trigger Effect, which starts out with a tripped power breaker and someone being cranky and it follows the consequences of these actions to the extreme. A power blackout occurs. Soon people are hoarding gas, food, water—and shooting one another. It only stops when one person decides to trust another person and puts down his gun. (Yes, it sounds hokey, and it is far from being a perfect movie, but it is very interesting.)

Mario and I laughed a lot during the movie today, which surprised me. But hearing people say stupid things outloud is funny—sometimes even when it's stupid and racist. We also cried. I bawled out loud. I can't remember ever doing that in a movie theater before. This movie is mythic, in a way, almost a film version of a magical realist book, except you see no magic—beyond the magic of being alive. When the locksmith tries to reassure his daughter that no bullets are going to get her and he gives her his invisible bullet-proof cape, you are certain as he ties it on her that it will actually work. Or at least you are certain you want it to work. But you are also certain this is not a happy ending kind of movie. Or almost certain.

In the end, I felt strangely inspired by the movie. I think racism and most prejudice is surface stuff. It's like the clothes we wear—we're used to a particular style, but we can change our clothes, change our style. We can drop our prejudices. I try to be aware of my own prejudices. As far as I can tell, I don't have any "color" prejudices. I mean, come on, logically it's just stupid. Why would I be prejudiced against someone with blond or black hair? Different colored skin is the same thing.

I do believe there are cultural differences between people, because of family of origin, place of origin, country of origin. But each person is her own unique person, and I try very hard not to stereotype someone because of where they are from. I do have gender "cautions"—along with religious "cautions." I have to be careful not to stereotype a Christian fundamentalist from the South, at least until I have actually spoken with them. (I kid the fundies.) I will cross the street if I am alone and a man or several men together come toward me. In the movie, a black man got angry because a white woman took her husband's arm when she saw two young black men. Well, it turned out she was right to be afraid. The two men carjacked them. If I cross the street because someone is coming toward me, it has nothing to do with color: it is because of gender. If they are younger men, it's more likely I will cross the street—especially if they are loud and boisterous young men. Is that prejudice? Maybe. But I know the culture I live in. It's the prudent thing to do.

Anyway, Crash was one of the best things I have seen in a long while. Matt Dillon plays a racist cop. He is always so good, and he was superb in this movie. I hated him one minute and felt sorry for him the next. He wasn't just a racist cop. We are not just the parts of ourselves that are stupid and small-minded. We are complex beings.

I worked at a restaurant in Bandon, Oregon, when we first moved out here. I was about 26 years old. One day I was talking with my co-workers about gardening. One of the women was Black, two of us were Anglo, another was Native. I said, "I keep killing off my plants. Some people have green thumbs; I have a black thumb." Everything suddenly got quiet in the kitchen as I laughed. I had to ask what I had said. The white woman pointed out that saying I had a black thumb to indicate I killed plants was, well, kind of racist. I was aghast. I quickly apologized. I had never associated the color black with being African-American. But as soon as the woman explained it to me, a light came on in my little brain. Of course! In our society the color black is often used to indicate that something is bad or worthless. My apology was not accepted. The Black woman never spoke to me again. I would talk to her—or try to talk to her—and she would stare straight ahead, as though I wasn't there. My remark had been ignorant, but once someone explained the error of my ways, I never said anything like that again. But even then, my little ignorant self was more than that one stupid remark. And thank goodness I did say something like that outloud so that someone could explain to me the different meanings of what I had said. How do we learn if we aren't sometimes stupid?

Years later my brother-in-law said something about "jewing" someone down on a price, and I explained to him what that word really meant and how offensive it was. He had never thought about what the word meant. To him, jew and Jew were two separate unrelated words. Someone else used the expression "gyped" around me once, and I explained that word was offensive because it came from "Gypsy" and it assumed a stereotype that all Gypsy's would try to steal from you. I believe that person just rolled his eyes at me.

I think we should have conversations about these kinds of issues. Because someone is ignorant about what is or isn't offensive to someone else does not make that person a racist, bigot, misogynist. I tried to have a conversation with a friend of mine about Israel once. I criticized Israel for their treatment of the Palestinians (this was nearly two decades ago), and she started screaming at me for being anti-Semitic. I was stunned. In the first place, I said, Palestinians are Semitic, too. But that wasn't the point. She said because I was not Jewish I couldn't understand Israel. That may be true, I said, so let's talk about it. But she couldn't. Now, I did not extrapolate from that conversation that all Jewish people supported all the decisions of the Israeli government. I did, however, concur that I probably had a different perspective from those who had gone through the Holocaust and/or those whose relatives had gone through the Holocaust.

And then there was my college friend from Egypt who one evening said, as we sat drinking beer at our local hangout, "The Jews are taking over the world." I was stunned. I had never heard anyone say anything even close to that in real life, only in the Nazi history books. I laughed. I thought she was joking. "No, it's not funny. Look at the movie industry." She started naming names. I just shook my head. "I don't get it," I said. "They're all Jewish names!" she said. She was incredulous at my ignorance. I told her I thought she was wrong, and then I didn't hang out with her any longer.

At the last place we lived, one of our neighbors made racist and bigoted comments about pretty much every group imaginable. He was an equal opportunity bigot. I told him I didn't agree with him, and we argued mightily many times. I never conceded a point. I never let him get away with a single bigoted remark. He was also one of the best neighbors I ever had. He would have given me and anyone—regardless of color or ethnic origin—the shirt off his back, as they say. Truly. His bigotry was only skin deep. I used to think the right thing to do was to shun people like that. I don't believe that any more. I never let them think I condone or agree with any of their prejudices, but I don't hate them. I want them to see me and other people as whole complex beings, so I try to see them that way, too.

May You Be a Whole and Complex Human Bean in Beauty!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/07/2005 05:12:00 PM
0 comments

Monday, June 06, 2005

Citizen 

Today Mario took his citizenship test. He has lived here almost twenty-five years, but we never felt it was necessary for him to become a citizen until now. We drove to a federal building about twenty minutes out of downtown Seattle. The sign out front said, "The Department of Homeland Security." I did not take any photographs; I didn't think that would be wise. The public parking lot was a bit of a trek from the big, square, concrete building.

Inside, we had to show a picture ID. I also had to put my purse through an X-ray machine, just like at the airport, and we had to walk through a metal detector. Since Mario had an appointment, he didn't have to wait in line. He was sent upstairs to a large waiting room—two open rooms actually, one on each side of the stairs. A TV set broadcast a women's softball game. Mario told me the place stunk of new carpeting, so I had to leave. I went out to the car and read the paper and made a few phone calls. I watched the people come and go. So many languages, colors, shapes, smiles. I felt buoyed by the presence of so many people from so many different cultures.

An hour and a half later, I walked back to the building (and went through the process all over again). Mario had just gotten finished with his interview and was now waiting again. He told me the man who interviewed him was impressed that he had worked at a library for many years and that he had been married to the same person for twenty-four years. Unfortunately, Detroit had lost Mario's file. (That was where he got his green card.) Fortunately, the lost file should not delay proceedings, but the interviewer had to check with his supervisor to make certain they could give Mario the OK.

While we waited for the interviewer to return, Mario told me the interviewer asked him four questions. Who makes laws? (Congress.) When is the President inaugurated? (January.) What is the Bill of Rights? (The first ten amendments.) Why do we celebate the fourth of July? (That's when the fireworks are the legal to blow up.) Then he had to read aloud a sentence, and then he had to write a sentence the man spoke outloud. Mario got everything correct.

About five minutes later, a door opened and a man motioned to Mario. Mario went with the man. Several minutes later, he returned. Everything was fine. In fact, the man told him he would have the privilege of taking his oath on July 4th. Apparently the July 4th oath-taking ceremony is quite special. It's another trip to Seattle, but it might be fun.

As we drove away from the building, I said, "I felt strangely moved by all of this."

"Really?" Mario said.

"Yes, despite all the crap going on with our government I still believe in the ideals of this country." The pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness still seems like a laudable goal. Or maybe I've just really been indoctrinated.

"I guess I must, too," Mario said, "or I wouldn't have agreed to do this."

But as always, I want to gaze with clear eyes at what is happening in this country. (Don't get me wrong. I'm still not a nationalist. I am a terra-ist. No, that sounds too much like that other over-used word. I'm a planetarium. No, that would mean I'm a building. How about this: I'm an Earthling.) Anyway, on the way home we listened to Randi Rhodes on Air America as she recited the litany of sins our government has committed in relationship to Iraq. I knew about Rummy's relationship with Iraq. I knew that our government had sold Saddam most of his weaponry. What I did not know—and what made me sick to my stomach as I listened—was that our government had sold him biological weapons, including pesticides, anthrax, and cyanide. No country should be selling that kind of evil to any other country. It's horrific. As I listened and we drove toward blue-black clouds, I thought, "Somehow the citizens of this country have to wake up and stop allowing this stuff to happen in our name."

The other night as I lay in bed once again trying not to think of these things and just go to sleep, I once again had this horrible realization which I hope is not true: the American people are fully cognizant of what their government has done and what it is now doing in Iraq and to the "detainees," and the American people just don't care. They are glad the Emperor is a despot and a bully because then the rest of the world will be afraid of us and leave us alone.

If that is true, we are all in a lot of trouble. You can only stand on someone's throat so long before they reach up and grab you by the ankles and throw you to the ground.

As I've said again and again and again (and will say again), what has happened and is happening at Gitmo and Abu Ghraib is unacceptable. The Emperor and his tailor can argue all they want about the word "gulag," but whether you call a plant poison ivy or poison oak it is still poison. If you want to read some of the "torture" documents obtained by the ACLU, this link will take you to a bunch of them.

Also, several conservative blogs have been claiming for the past few days that John Kerry has said he was going to try and have the Emperor impeached. I have found no evidence that this is true. I've found only one source of this "news" item (a conservative ether rag), and I wouldn't trust anything they said as being factual even if they said the sky was blue and I was standing under a cloudless sky. So I'll be interested to know if Kerry did indeed suggest impeachment. (Have any of you heard Kerry say this?) I heard that he said he is going to bring up the Downing Street Memo. (Frankly, I hope they all start talking about impeachment. What the prez has done is certainly more impeachable than what Clinton did.) The Dems better get off their butts and investigate this memo. Amy Goodman discussed the memo on her show, but I don't know if the corporate media is doing anything. Now that I don't have TV (again), I'm not sure what "they" are doing.

By the way, I found a couple of sites on Alternet that I didn't know about. One is Guantanamo Human Rights Commission. They are working to "stop all forms of internment without trial."

Also, check out Patriots to Restore Checks and Balances. This is a group of conservatives and progressives concerned about what the Patriot Act is doing to our country. In fact, the judiciary committee has decided to hold debates on the Patriot Act in SECRET. Conservative Bob Barr is the force behind this movement to sunset the act and has asked the committee to change their minds and make the discussions public. (I can hardly believe I'm linking to Bob Barr.)

Hell has not frozen over, but I am stunned enough to decide that's it for today. Ta!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/06/2005 09:54:00 PM
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Who's Your Governor, Baby? 

We've got TV in the hotel room, so we're listening to the judge's decision in the gubernatorial race. He will say whether Gregoire will remain governor or if we have to throw everything out and start all over again. I've been listening to him for thirty minutes, and I still have no clue how he is going to rule. 9:25 a.m. If you recall, I helped in the recount of this election.

9:35 a.m. Now he's saying the Rossi lawyers (Republican candidate) didn't prove their case scientifically—their experts used statistical methods and/or theories not generally accepted. Etc.

9:52 a.m. No substantial proof of enough irregular irregularity has occurred. (I'm paraphrasing.) He said every election has irregularities and this one doesn't seem worse than others. The court finds for the Gregoire side! Yes! Of couse, there will be appeals, but at least for now, we still have a Democratic governor.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/06/2005 09:52:00 AM
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Sunday, June 05, 2005

Almost Asleep in Seattle, or A Life With A View 

I awakened to the cries of ospreys this morning. It's a bit late to be mating for them, so perhaps ma and pa were teaching their offspring to hunt. Mario and I wished the birds of prey good luck, we ate breakfast, and then we drove to Seattle. (Mario has an interview here tomorrow morning.) We were lucky: traffic was light, we were only deluged with rain part of the time, and Mario was only carsick for a short while. We talked about our next projects. I came up with three different plots for Scarf Sisters, and I liked all of them. I think it may have to be a series. (Right this moment, I can't think of any of them.) We drove by the baseball stadium just as the Mariners won the game in the bottom of the ninth. Of course they are a last place team playing a last place team. Kind of pathetic.

We checked into our hotel and then went to the Seattle Central Library just before it closed. It is only a year old, and it's amazing! I'm looking forward to going back there tomorrow. We went for dinner at Cafe Flora, a vegetarian place we frequent when we visit the Emerald City. I couldn't find much to eat this time: very little wheatless and dairy-free. So afterward we went to the co-op, and I got my dinner. I love co-ops. I've decided we are co-op and library geeks. Every time we travel we try to find a food co-op and a library. Some of our favorite food co-ops are in Boise, Olympia (Lacey, really), Port Townsend, and Ashland. (Sorry for that list; I'm pretty much babbling now.)

OK. I thought I could write more, but I just realized I am too tired. So no real news of the rest of the world here, just photos of my almost-summer vacation. Feel free to look away.

Yes, this is me writing this post. Could I get more self-referential? And yes, Mario knows how to get rid of the yellow on this photo, but I liked it.
kim blogging in seattle

Cool mural kitty-corner from our hotel.
a cool mural near out hotel

Check-out at Central Library.
checkout at the library


The red floor at Central Library avec Mario. Normally all this red would have completely freaked/wiped me out. This didn't. Mario and I loved this floor.
mario at the library

More red floor. (I think it's the fourth floor.) I suddenly wanted a hand-held movie camera, so I could shoot a science fiction movie from here. Right now.
red hallways

Henry Moore's "Vertebrae," across from the library
henry moore vert.

These tall wooden statues are in Occidental Park, a few blocks from our hotel. One site called them the "Bear Clan and Welcoming Figure," but I haven't verified that.
IMGP0853

A couple blocks from the hotel is Puget Sound. I took these next photos standing on the pier looking out at sunset.
puget sound 1

puget sound 2

The view from our hotel window.
view 2

Good night. May You Sleep in Beauty!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/05/2005 10:03:00 PM
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Saturday, June 04, 2005

Snow White, Rose Red, and Friends 

Camellia
Camellia

camellia 2

camellia 3

Rose
red 3

Breathing the Vapors: Rhododendrons
rhodie white

rhodie white 2

rhodie white 3

rhodie yellow
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/04/2005 10:09:00 PM
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Update of Kimantieau.com 

I've finally done an extensive update of my website. It's taken half a day and I'm bleary-eyed, so if you find any typos or other "nonsense," please let me know so I can fix it. I updated by bibliography so it should be fairly comprehensive now. (But again, let me know if I missed anything.) Have a good weekend!
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/04/2005 01:34:00 PM
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Friday, June 03, 2005

The John Conyers Letter 

Many of you have heard about the John Conyers letter to the Emperor asking that he answer questions about the Downing Street Memo. He's now asking for regular Jill and Joe Citizen to sign a petition demanding that the prez answer the questions. (This link to Indy Media has the best links and explanation of what to do.) I didn't post it earlier because the link to his site was jammed and not working. It now appears to be functional.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/03/2005 01:02:00 PM
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Thursday, June 02, 2005

Disassembly Instructions Inside 

I've gotten used to the fact that the Emperor is inarticulate and doesn't read and can't speak—and the American people don't care. Nothing I can do about that, and I'm not going to scream about it any more. But when the Emperor With No Clothes does use the English language incorrectly, the news media should report his speeches and responses word for word. They should not rewrite history two minutes after history has been made!

In response to a question about the Amnesty International Report (which I wrote about last week), the Emperor said, "I'm aware of the Amnesty International report, and it's absurd. It's an absurd allegation. The United States is a country that is -- promotes freedom around the world. When there's accusations made about certain actions by our people, they're fully investigated in a transparent way. It's just an absurd allegation.

"In terms of the detainees, we've had thousands of people detained. We've investigated every single complaint against the detainees. It seemed like to me they based some of their decisions on the word of -- and the allegations -- by people who were held in detention, people who hate America, people that had been trained in some instances to disassemble -- that means not tell the truth. And so it was an absurd report. It just is. And, you know -- yes, sir." (The bold is mine.)

Well, the Chicago Tribune (you have to register to read the article) decided to fix the Emperor's grammar, and they reported him saying, "it seemed like to me [Amnesty International] based some of their decisions on the word of--and the allegations--by people who were held in detention, people who hate America, people that had been trained in some instances to dissemble--that means not tell the truth. And so it was an absurd report."

They ain't supposed to be changing what the Emperor said.

And to the heart of the matter, even Portland's Oregonian is siding with the Emperor against Amnesty International. I read the report. As far as I can tell—and I admit that may not be far—the report is based on the information they got. (I mean they didn't make it up, we've all read some of the same reports about abuses at Gitmo and Abu Ghraib.) In response to the Bushies essentially calling Amnesty International big fat liars, Amnesty International Secretary General Irene Zubaida Khan said, "Bring it on!" Or words to that effect. (Do I disassemble?) What she did say was, "The administration's response has been that our report is absurd, that our allegations have no basis, and our answer is very simple: if that is so, open up these detention centers, allow us and others to visit them."

Check and mate, if I may use a warmongering game metaphor.

Or BRING IT ON, MO-FO. OPEN UP THE CAMPS!

The smear campaign against AI is in full swing. I think they can handle it. I hope so. The Emperor and his tailors have already taken over the most powerful country in the world, so there's no tellin'.

Do I sound bitter? I'm frustrated. I think of those people at Gitmo and Abu Ghraib who have done nothing wrong, yet day after day, month after month, they are imprisoned, denied legal representation, and kept from the love and comfort of their families. It's obscene.

May the people rise up soon and demand justice for these people—and the Iraqi people. The war must end, and these "detainees" must be released.

Every time I think about it I just think, "Shame, shame, shame." But I don't think they have any shame. No guilt. No doubts. Do they actually believe they are doing the right thing? It makes me shudder.
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/02/2005 08:13:00 PM
3 comments

Fleurs 

Hydrangeas at Sunset
hydrangeas

hydrangeas 2

Peony at Sunset
peony

peony petal

peony 2

Snapdragon at Sunset
(Linda planted this snapdragon for me about two years ago. It has not stopped flowering in all that time, even during the winter.)
snapdragon
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/02/2005 08:37:00 AM
3 comments

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

The Grand Scheme and Skein of Things... 

It's been one of those couple of days. Stupid piddly stuff like the car breaking down again, a headache again, both of our allergies flaring again, someone stealing our identity and charging stuff to our credit card again, and the place where I have worked nearly eighteen years not letting me check out any books because I didn't have my library card. (I'm entrusted to buy over $100,000 worth of books every year, but I need my library card to check out a book?) The library card thing was the last straw, and I was quite pissed off. A friend of mine was with me and said she had never seen me angry before. She's known me for thirteen years. So much for my rap of being an angry middle-aged woman. (Yuck. Middle-aged sounds so weird. On the other hand, it could mean I'll live until I'm 100.) When I told Mario what had happened at the library he said, "Well, in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter." I just looked at him. He grinned and said (as he backed away from me), "Perhaps I should have waited a day before saying that."

In the grand scheme of things, not much matters, does it?

I want visuals to sooth my irritated soul, so I'm posting some photos I took today and yesterday. I really like macro photography. As soon as Mario taught me photography I was almost instantly good at doing macro pics. Landscape photography has not been my forté—and I'm not the only one. I rarely see photographs of this area which do it justice. They've either been cleaned up (the sky is never blue like THAT) or the picture does not capture the majesty of nature—the absolute awesomeness of this place. Ordinarily, I like writing about what I see and having the reader use her or his imagination. But I have been taking more landscape photographs and then putting them on my computer desktop. I've discovered that they do express some of the essence of the place if you can look at them at a size bigger than a regular photograph. So if you can, look at the landscape photographs (below) on a screen that will show them BIG.


Looking Down Russell Street to the Columbia River: This is the street I walk down every day to the post office, which is past the intersection on the left. On the right is Bloomsbury where I took the photos of the yarn. If I turn right at the intersection, I go to the bank, the grocery store, the video/convenience store. To the left, the courthouse lawn.
russell street

Views of the Gorge (Oregon side) from the courthouse parking lot:
Columbia River Gorge

Columbia River Gorge 2

Pier over the Columbia: If you kept walking down Russell Street (the first photo), you would come to this pier.
River/pier

Curves: These trees are on a path leading away (or to) the pier. I like the curves of the trees and the curve of the path.
IMGP0423

curves

curves 2

Skein of Things: I love colors, textures, light and shadow. I took zillions of these skeins of wool yarn that were dyed à la nature. Here's just a few of those pics.
skein 3

skein 2

Skein of things

skein 3a

skein 2a
Posted by: Kim Antieau / 6/01/2005 03:15:00 PM
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