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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.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Myths, Etc.
Did you see that Cindy Sheehan was arrested while protesting peacefully outside the White House? I've been gone all day so I don't know if they covered it on mainstream media. CodePink and friends were also there and many were arrested. Michael Moore has a letter from Cindy on his website. Her arrest came after three days of rallies and demonstrations in Washington. I heard a caller on Randi Rhodes say C-Span did not show the anti-war rally in D.C., but he was wrong because I watched it on C-Span as it was happening on Saturday. I had opportunities to participate in events this past weekend, but I just didn't feel like it. So there. 0 comments
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Less, Please
Bush's Bitch is Back
I'm just saying. 1 comments
Wild Cam in Africa
My Spirit Animal
I was telling Mario about the Spirit bear in Canada. (It's white and it's in danger.) He asked, "Is it a polar bear?" since it was white, and one of us said, "Maybe it's a bipolar bear." Thus, my perfect totem. We tried to come up with other similar "spirit" animals. The New Jersey Cow. Tupperware Wolf. Dorian Greyhound. Black and Bluejay. B. B. Kingfisher. On the Roadrunner. If we think of enough, I could create a card set. A shortened tarot deck. Or Spirit Animals for the Emotionally Challenged. Or for the Naturally Demented. Or sumthin.
Mario's getting minor surgery this Thursday for a growth on his arm. Trying not to be a psycho about it. Once we get these doctor's and dentist's visits out of the way, I hope to feel like writing more. Been focused on that and Linda.
I dreamed I was walking with two wolves last night. Woman Who Walks With the Wolves. Not bad.
May You Walk in Beauty! 0 comments
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Donahue vs. O'Reilly
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Mass Mess
And So It Goes...
Look for the Inquisition coming to a neighborhood near you soon. 0 comments
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Around and Around
A map that leads me
through exquisite, undiscovered terrain
A marvelous journey with unexpected
twists and turns
Lush new territory
Caves and caverns
Jewels and butterflies
A breathtaking exploration
How astounding
How brilliant
This pathless map
That always leads me
Home
—Lea Endres 2003 from We'Moon '05
I saw the new We'Moon '06 at a bookstore in Portland today after a stop at the dentist for a temporary repair on a chipped molar. I love this datebook. Getting it every fall feels like a rite of passage, a hopeful gift: contemplating the future. My work has been published in it for many, many years, but I bought this gorgeous inspiring datebook for years before I was ever in it. Of course I turned to the page where my piece was this year, an excerpt from a Falling essay, and I started crying in the store. It's actually embarrassing to be moved by your own words. But seeing a work in print always transforms it. Sometimes it's disappointing; sometimes thrilling; sometimes embarrassing; sometimes moving.
We're moving toward Equinox. I'm turning inward. I have the privilege of relative security and safety, so I also sometimes have the privilege of reflection. Shit happens and I gotta learn to figure out how to deal with it better. I am so tired of being a crazy lady. So with Equinox, I will plunge into The Salmon Mysteries. It will be a more solitary journey than I would like (since the Mysteries are not truly an individual celebration but a communal one) but thems the breaks.
By the way, have you read any of the current Journal of Mythic Arts? It's so scrumptious, as usual. Mario's long poem "Mark" has been reprinted (not the correct word since it's posted not printed but you get the picture). By the by, explore the whole site. And even if you've read my "Briar Rose," you might want to see what gorgeous paintings they used to accompany my story. I'm always finding something new I had somehow missed. For instance, I was intrigued by Alan Weisman's piece about the carnaval in Spain. And Cristina García Rodero's photographs interspersed throughout the article are amazing. I could write a story to go with each one—many stories for each photograph. They are like images out of dreams or nightmares. Mythic and symbolic and part of the real.
Time for bed.
May You Spin in Beauty! 0 comments
Friday, September 16, 2005
What the...?
The Fat Lady is Singin'
Why aren't people talking about this? Why aren't we forcing our governments to do something? What have you done about global warming today? Doesn't seem like enough, does it? 0 comments
Rules of Da Blame Game
More on Mercy, Unbound
The Emperor is Pro-Poor
I Say Nothing
Then and There. Here and Now
It's cold. I'm stalling. I can't quite get into this time and place. The here and now. What happened to summer?
Last night I went over to Linda's, made her soup, then ate with her. Her legs are so swollen from edema it's frightening. And nauseating. When I moved her legs I was afraid I'd poke through, as though her legs were made of dough like the Pillsbury Doughboy. I told her a bunch of jokes. She loves corny jokes. Yo momma jokes. Your town is so small jokes. And especially political jokes. She has a friend visiting who is very right-wing so I waited until she was gone. Earlier in the day, this friend started blaming the Louisiana governor and the NO mayor for the disaster. She just spouted the Bushie line, "You saw all those buses under water. They could have used those buses." I said, "You know, that's just a lie. Just because you saw a photograph of submerged buses doesn't mean anything." The fury began to rise in me. I used to enjoy a good political discussion. Not any more. If someone voted for Bush and changed his/her mind, maybe I could talk to them. If they're STILL for Bush I feel like they're the fucking enemy. I feel as though I'm in the room with a Nazi or a skinhead or something so repulsive I can't begin to describe it. I know this isn't compassionate. I know this isn't helpful. But there it is. I told this woman I was not going to have this discussion because it was clearly upsetting Linda, so we stopped. Anyway, she was gone for a few hours, so I read the political jokes to Linda and she laughed. Later two more friends came, and Linda asked me to read them again. They were old Bush jokes but fun any way. Kind of nice to spend a few hours with my friend laughing.
Now I need to do some work. Or take a bath and warm up. What a whiner I am.
May You Whine and Dine in Beauty! 0 comments
Societies of Peace
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Pagan Response to Katrina
Trickster Energy
Blessed beeeeee! 0 comments
Potty Break
Yes, I am a snot. 2 comments
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
They Still Need Help
By the way, I haven't kept on top of this as much as I would have liked, but that amazing animal Wikipedia has an incredible amount of info on Katrina etc. 0 comments
Katrina Cartoons
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Ain't It the Truth
Doing the Work
Monday, September 12, 2005
"Pearls for Serena"
Those Motherfuckers
On top of that, as many of us feared, the water in Nola (which the governor initially claimed was not toxic—what planet is she from?) is so toxic, according to an EPA official, that it has rendered the city virtually uninhabitable for ten years—and the Bushies are covering up this little detail. Despite its apparent uninhabitability, people will continue to live there, just as they have continued to inhabit extremely toxic places in other parts of the U.S. One of the reasons Mario and I canceled our trip to Nola last year was because of all the pesticide spraying and industrial pollution down in Texas and Louisiana. And I was born in LA, remember, when my father was stationed there during his stint in the Air Force. I really wanted to visit the region.
It won't surprise any of you to learn that Bush cronies are cleaning up on the cleaning up and rebuilding of Nola.
And this stupid "war on terror" is continuing to spread across the planet as governments become more oppressive, using "safety" as an excuse to deprive citizens and visitors of their civil rights. Australia has arrested a visiting American peace activist. (It's such a stupid expression: "war on terror." Let's have a war on fear. A war on nervousness. A war on happiness.)
And let's not forget Gitmo. Perhaps as many as two hundred or more "detainees" (men kidnapped from their homes) at Gitmo are entering the second month of a hunger strike to protest the conditions at the camp. The military is now force-feeding some of these men. Your tax dollars at work.
What should you do with this information? Whatever you'd like. I suggest you call all your reps and harangue them. Give money where you think it will help. Begin a revolution of change. Think WWCD? (In this context, I was thinking of the Coyote Clan: What Would Coyote Do?)
On a totally different note: how do you all do caffeine? It's extremely disconcerting. I've had a few pieces of chocolate and I can't sleep and I feel like total shit. Never again. At least until the next time. Bleck.
I shall try the dream world yet again. When I wake up, you all better have fixed things.
May You Revolt in Beauty! 0 comments
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Strange World...or Estranged World
Ha! And her daughter is just a freaking Amazon. Blessed be.
So the world is charging toward collapse. For me, Katrina has sealed the reality of this deal. Again. I'm sure I will whine and complain and be depressed about it again...many times. But I'm not going to be helpless about it any more. The Bushies are not my people. These assholes are not my people. I'm going to get as prepared as I can be while living my life. I'm not going to stick my head in the sand. I'm not going to pretend. But I am going to try to dance my way to it as best as I can.
Here's what was overheard at my house today:
"So I think we should think about acquiring some skills that would be needed after and during the collapse of things as we know them," I said.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. We should have gone to that permaculture training Starhawk was doing."
"Yeah."
"Medical training. First aid. Things like that will always be needed. How to grow food. Because no one is going to be buying books."
Mario frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Who is going to need a writer after economic collapse?"
Mario shook his head. "During the Depression writers did fine. That was the heyday of the pulp magazines."
"It's not going to be as good as that," I said. "Writers don't make a living in any of the Third World countries."
"Sure they do," he said. "The standard of living is less so they don't need as much."
"Hmmm," I said. "Maybe the end of the world won't be so bad."
Later it looked like our TV tube was fried:
"Shit," I said. "Oops. Really, I'm not whining about the TV going out. Geez."
Mario just looked at me. "We can go to Circuit City and get one today."
"Man, maybe we should just let it go. We won't need TV during the collapse of the world."
"But we'll want to watch the collapse on CNN," he said.
"That's true," I said. "Eventually there won't be any electricity."
"But until then," he said. "You can get flat screen TVs now."
"Oooh," I said.
We didn't get a TV, but I did buy a couple of pieces of chocolate after we went to the Tao of Tea, ate dal and rice, and wrote, after walking the trail at Falling Creek, after we hugged away most of the day, after I got so many phone calls (about Linda) that I startled the last caller into giggles when I said I had to go because "my husband is now out of bed and dressed. At this rate, I'm never going to get lucky."
What can I say? Life can be exhilarating.
Yesterday I said to Mario, "We keep hearing how great this country is. Well then, why don't we become heroes of the world. Why don't we save the planet? Or anyone. Why don't the French or the English? Fuck the governments. Let's just save the world. I don't know what it takes. But they always talk about the ingenuity of the American people. Where is that? Don't sit around whining about how much you have to pay for gas. Decide if you want to be like the Romans or like the heroes of the world! Let's face what's going on and fucking deal with it."
Tonight we watched "93: The Flight that Fought Back." As I was watching it, I thought it was a great illustration of what I was thinking yesterday. These ordinary people had such courage. They were faced with a terrible circumstance but they fought back. (Did you know they actually voted on what they should do? I find that strangely touching.) They knew they were going down; they probably thought they were going to die, but they tried anyway. Our own government has hijacked our country; we need to take these hijackers down. Our own ignorance and desire for comfort and our consumptive culture have destroyed the environment; we need to face it and figure out what to do—and prepare. This ain't our grandparents' planet any more.
It's an estranged world, after all... 1 comments
Saturday, September 10, 2005
The Future is Here
I don't know what to do with this information. Hunker down and just live my life? We all die. In the end, we all die. Even if we do great things, we die. Even if we do terrible things, we die. Even if we help people, they die too. Mario and I were having this conversation yesterday, and it was so true and so depressing that it was comical. I felt like that character in a Woody Allen movie— don't really care for his movies and I don't like to refer to him in any context normally—where Allen and a young man are driving somewhere, and the young man says, "Do you ever want to drive into the oncoming headlights?" If you haven't seen it, this description will mean nothing to you; if you have seen it, you'll understand. Anyway, I feel like I sound like that guy.
I haven't figured out a way to be hopeful or realistic or anything.
I'll let you know if I figure out anything...but don't hold your breath.
And if you understood this post, I am impressed.
It’s off to Linda I go now....After she dies, we just learned, apparently the government will come and take everything she owned, even though she lives in poverty and doesn’t have anything to speak of. But they will try to pry from her daughter’s hands anything she might want to save of her mother’s. And someone told Linda this so now she’s worrying about this instead of “enjoying” time with her daughter. And this is what I say to the heartless government who wants to make certain Linda wasn’t partying on her $650 a month. YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO COME THROUGH ME, MOTHERFUCKERS; CUZ YOU AIN’T TOUCHING HER DAUGHTER.
Okay. Got that out of my system. I’m outta here. 0 comments
Drifting...
Whilst in medias res I skimmed a bit...
I am so accustomed to the media not challenging this administration or any of their goons that I hardly even notice it any more. I am really at the point of just throwing up my hands (and my lunch) and saying, "Fuck it." For one bright shining awful evening after Katrina, I thought the media had found their souls again. But, it is not to be. They quiver in their boots; they eat the shit the Bushies serve up like it was French cuisine—and they don't even know the difference. Most of America doesn't know the difference either. Check out this article from Media Matters about all the lies that have gone unchallenged since Katrina. It's the Rove mantra. Lie, lie, lie. They come up with their lies and then they keep repeating them until everyone believes the lies. Remember, they don't care about reality. (Check out Media Matters, by the way; as always, they are doing a great job of winnowing truth out of the Emperor's chaff.)
Can someone please stop the Emperor and his goons? I haven't the energy or the power.
On an aside, I looked up Oya in Luisah Teish's Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book. It is interesting that the corresponding Catholic Saint to Oya is St. Catherine. Both Katrina and Catherine are variants of the name Katherine (which means "pure"). Remember, when the Africans and others were kidnapped and brought here (and those who later came of their own free will) their religions blended with Catholicism in a fine bit of syncretism. It's an age old practice: hide your own religion within the oppressor's religion so that you can still worship. So aspects Oya, Yansa, Olla, Aida-Wedo, Brigette were folded into St. Catherine and St. Theresa; Yemonja, Imanje, Yemaya, Agwe, La Balianne became Mary. "Became" is really the wrong word but you catch my drift. Just an interesting coincidence... 0 comments
Friday, September 09, 2005
Some Links Mario Found
Here's the link to the overlay of the New Orleans flood onto major American cities—it goes to Portland. You can pick other cities on the left. You've probably already seen it but just in case...
Here is an amazing sequence of photos about the flood. I'm a bit curious (and suspicious) about the last bit of these photos. Why did he suddenly stop taking photographs of the last part of his trip? Is it because it didn't happen the way he said it did? Did his battery run low? Did he get tired? Am I just now so stressed that I am suspicious of every little inconsistency? 0 comments
In the Eye of the Beholder
I feel fierce (and often inadequate) in my mission to protect Linda and her daughter from all comers, from all who would interfere with their bond. People want to resolve issues. "Now is not the time." People want to delve into secrets. "It's none of your business." People want to be between. "She's needs her family. She needs her daughter." I look into Linda’s eyes and try to discern what she needs now, trying to understand her barely discernible words. Still her eyes see me and I see her. My fingers touch her forehead while her daughter cleans her nose, and I am certain I have never seen anything as beautiful as this young woman tending to her mother with such clear and present love.
When I stumble home, Mario always opens the door. "Ohhhh," he says. "You look tired." Then he leads me to the kitchen and gives me dinner. Or whatever. He somehow knows when I will be home because somehow there is always food and succor. He watches me while I eat. I see on his face the same I saw on Linda's daughter's face. That softening of love, the beauty of it, the absolute fierceness of it. And later I rest my head on his belly while he reads to me, a quilt wrapped around me, and I know that we only have these moments. And it is these that lend dignity to our life and our death. 0 comments
Monday, September 05, 2005
Endings
May You All Dance, Love, and Spin in Beauty! 3 comments
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Macabre Humor
...FEMA only found him yesterday. 0 comments
Missive from Starhawk
By Starhawk
When Katrina hit, I was at Camp Casey in Crawford, Texas, where I had gone to support Cindy Sheehan, the Gold Star mother who encamped outside of Bush’s ranch to demand a meeting so she could ask him one simple question, “What noble cause did my son die for?” Cindy is a formidable woman, a fearless woman because she has already lost what she most loved.
Loss and grief are powerful forces. Camp Casey was full of those who had suffered the real losses of the Bush administrations’ war on Iraq, the families of soldiers, returning veterans, Gold Star Mothers who had lost a child in Iraq.’ Along the roadside stood a vast field of crosses to represent the dead. Across the road, a small encampment of pro-war counter-demonstrators would gather each day. They didn’t stay overnight. On our side, we camped in a ditch, in the hundred and five degree heat, itching from sweat and chigger bites. The counter-protestors shouted slogans and drove up and down the road in cars decorated with signs proclaiming their love for Bush, honking. David, my partner, a veteran of the civil rights movement and a draft resistor in Vietnam, thought they needed some lessons in taunting. He’s been taunted by better in his time—the outfront racists, the fanatic anti-communists. The worst our counter demonstrators mustered was a sign saying, “The Sixties are over—why don’t you go home!” “Someone on our side countered with a sign reading, “The Fifties are over—why don’t YOU go home?”
Bush and his allies are experts at manufacturing emotion, whipping up fear, exploiting the dead. But here the air was permeated by real and personal loss. “You have to understand,” the woman said to me. “My mother does not go out. She doesn’t leave the house.” Her mother, standing next to her, nodded in agreement. We were outside the big tent where the rally was being held, at Camp Casey Two, up the road from our campsite. “But I told her, you have to come. You have to see this.”
The woman was blond, late thirties, conservatively dressed, in a big sunhat . She spoke with a Texas accent, and she and her mother looked like archetypal Republicans. “Nothing looks prettier than a young man in a uniform,” she said, smiling sadly “but when you look at what’s underneath, it’s not so pretty.” Her brother had come back from the first Gulf War, mentally and emotionally shattered, and had never recovered. And that’s what drew her mother out, to gather with others who had also lost real children, real lives.
I told her about Billy, the son of my best friend from junior high school. Mary and I played with paper dolls and screamed for the Beatles and went wild together in the Sixties. She was the first of my friends to get pregnant, when we were nineteen, and I helped her through the stress of telling her ultraconservative family, her hasty marriage and messy divorce. Then we lost touch for many years. I remember Billy as a sweet two-year-old with angelic curls. He grew up to be the second soldier across the line in the first Gulf War. I reconnected with Mary shortly after he took a gun to the beach and shot himself, one of the thousands of uncounted casualties, suicides, chronically ill, lefovers from that adventure.
The homeless shelters and the cold streets are still filled with men of my own generation, the living ghosts of Vietnam. Meanwhile veterans’ services are being cut back, hospitals closed. My aunt and uncle from the communist side of the family worked all their lives for the VA, proudly, because as my aunt said it was the closest thing to socialism in this country. They enjoyed providing free treatment for people. Perhaps that is why the same warmongers, so eager to create new casualties, refuse to adequately fund their ongoing care.
The people at Camp Casey talked about ‘being on someone else’s mission,’ about ‘chains of command’ and ‘getting orders from above”, which they agreeably followed. “This place is run like the military,” one of my friends remarked. “We are the military,” was the answer. They were indeed the military, the people in this country most directly affected by the reality of war, Gold Star Mothers who had lost a child in Iraq, returning veterans, Veterans for Peace, military families. They wore cowboy hats and spoke in real Texas accents: Bush’s natural base, in rebellion not at the concept of authority but at his misuse and abuse of the authority entrusted to him.
Most people there were from Texas, many of them surprised and delighted to meet other Texans who opposed the war. A whole contingent was from Louisiana, and New Orleans.
And so on Sunday night when the news reports were tracking Katrina’s progress and predicting the disaster of New Orleans, the mood at the camp was grim. I was over at Camp Casey Two, where a big tent was set up for meetings and rallies. I was trying to be helpful by making a list of all the stuff needed for the caravans which would be setting out when the camp closed on a speaking tour, mobilizing people for the September 24 march on Washington. On the screen a video was playing detailing the effects of depleted uranium, showing pictures of the deformed babies born in Iraq, cyclops babies with only one eye in the center of the forhead, babies with heads like tumors, babies that are nothing but undifferentiated lumps of flesh. And at my feet, a man from New Orleans was crying and raging. The bridges were closed, and no one could get out any longer. The news was predicting that thousands might die.
The petrochemical industry and the developers have long ruled in the Gulf, with free reign to destroy the wetlands that are nature’s buffer against storms. A huge proportion of the Louisiana National Guard, which is supposed to take charge during natural disasters, was in Iraq. The rest were apparently in Florida, moving military equipment out of the path of the storm. The funds for flood control and reinforcing the levees had been systematically cut by the Bush administration in order to fund our attacks on Baghdad and Fallujah.
Hurricanes are fueled by the warmth of the ocean, and the Gulf is abnormally hot due to global warming, which Bush and his allies will not admit is happening. Global warming may not have caused Hurrican Katrina, but it undoubtedly amplified it’s power and fury.
New Orleans, like Casey Sheehan, is a casualty of war.
And I imagine Cindy joined in her vigil by a mother from New Orleans, perhaps one whose baby died in her arms of dehydration at the Superdome, to ask,“Why did my child die?”
And Bush, if he were honest would have to say to her, “Your child died of incompetence and callousness justified by a set of false assumptions:”
That the current economy and technology, fueled by cheap oil and gas, can and should continue in its current form.
That the profits of those who benefit from the current system are of paramount importance, and should be protected at all costs.
That war is good for business.
That environmental impacts don’t need to be counted as part of the cost of doing business and so don’t count.
That technology has transcended nature.
That global warming has no real consequences.
That government owes nothing in the way of care and support to its citizens.
That the lives of the poor aren’t worth much, anyway, especially if they happen to be black.
That the way to respond to uncomfortable questions is to sneer at and smear the questioner.
That a good media spin can redefine and outweigh reality.
But reality has a way of being, well, real, and catching up with you. Real loss, real grief are the real results of the Bush administration’s policies. His neocon friends maintain their power by manufacturing fear, exploiting the dead. But now the real dead are coming back to haunt them.
And so I imagine Cindy and the mother from New Orleans joined by a legion of mothers from Iraq. I envision the roads of Crawford lined with the corpses of Baghdad and Fallujah, with the one-eyed monstrous stillbirths, the children blown to pieces, caked with flesh, soaked with blood. I hear a chorus of voices asking, “Why? What noble cause? What great gift are you bringing us? What is this democracy that abandons the poor to drown?”
I see them laying the bodies at the gates of power. I see us joining them, to turn the to a wind of justice, a wind of change. Hurricane season has just begun.
* * *
Some places to send aid:
Families and Friends of Louisiana’s Incarcerated Children are doing intense work among the shelters and prisons with displaced youth, mostly African American. Believe me, the Red Cross and the Christian charities won’t be pouring out relief to this group! They can also use some volunteers (especially African American) and many gifts in kind.
Send a check to the “FFLIC Hurricane Relief Fund” to 920 Platt Street, Sulphur, Louisiana, 70663.
awakenprogress@yahoo.com
kd.higgs@yahoo.com
The Veterans for Peace bus that was at Camp Casey in Crawford, TX has now gone down to Covington, Louisiana to do relief work. They also need donations of money and computer equipment.
Make a donation to Veterans For Peace Chapter 116 http://www.vfproadtrips.org
Tax deductible cash donations can be send to:
Contact:
Veterans For Peace Chapter 116
28500 Sherwood Rd
Willits CA 95490
pjtate@sonic.net
Cell PH 707-536-3001
Food Not Bombs will be providing food for refugees. They can use volunteers to prepare and serve food, and, of course, donations.
www.foodnotbombs.net. You can make a financial donation on line or mail checks to Food Not Bombs, P.O. Box 744, Tucson, AZ 85702. Please call (1-800-884-1136) or email (katrina@foodnotbombs.net ) us if you can join them on the bus or help with gas money.
Starhawk
www.starhawk.org
Feel free to post, forward, and reprint this article for non-commercial purposes. All other rights reserved.
Donations to help support Starhawk’s trainings and work can be sent to:
ACT
1405 Hillmount St.
Austin, Texas
78704
U.S.A. 0 comments
"We have been abandoned..."
The president of Jefferson Parish says that FEMA keeps turning away supplies, among other things. He said today, "Yesterday — yesterday — FEMA comes in and cuts all of our emergency communication lines. They cut them without notice. Our sheriff, Harry Lee, goes back in, he reconnects the line. He posts armed guards and said no one is getting near these lines."
Broussard also said, "We have been abandoned by our own country. Hurricane Katrina will go down in history as one of the worst storms ever to hit an American coast. But the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina will go down as one of the worst abandonments of Americans on American soil ever in U.S. history. … Whoever is at the top of this totem pole, that totem pole needs to be chainsawed off and we’ve got to start with some new leadership. It’s not just Katrina that caused all these deaths in New Orleans here. Bureaucracy has committed murder here in the greater New Orleans area and bureaucracy has to stand trial before Congress now."
Read the whole exchange, especially the last part. I was sobbing as I listened to him and absolutely outraged. I looked for a clip, by the way, and couldn't find one. It was amazing. If you find it, let me know.
He complained about all the press conference, just as the mayor of New Orleans did. You'll notice they've continued to have press conferences, and they are continuing to say the same thing. This is the Karl Rove strategy that has always worked in the past. They just keep saying the same thing again and again: "No one could have anticipated this. There were three disasters, not just one." Despite the facts that MANY people had anticipated this, despite the fact that Bush gutted FEMA (plus it's no longer a cabinet position), despite all the ways that the federal government has fucked up, they continue to have these press conferences.
The Emperor sent Rumsfeld down there to pontificate. I was furious. Who on Earth has any confidence in Rumsfeld besides Bush? And he was so patronizing. He just talked about how great everyone in the leadership is. I dreamed last night that I was throwing up and all these women around me were throwing up, and I swear it was in anticipation of these blowhard assholes trying to indoctrinate us instead of saving these people. As I was watching today, I suddenly got the shivers: what if they are actually trying to destroy this city? (Not the rescue workers, but the federal government.) The right wing christians must hate a city like New Orleans. Bush Watch has a interesting (and chilling) roundup.
They may also be changing the historical documentation of when the governor asked for federal help. (They've done this before with the Emperor's speeches.) If I find out more, I'll post it.
I've got to go. More later. 1 comments
Saturday, September 03, 2005
RIP Roe v Wade
And speaking of women's reproductive rights: It got lost in the hurricane news, but the
chief of women's health for the FDA, Dr. Susan Wood, resigned because the director wouldn't approve the so-called morning after pill for over-the-counter distribution. She said their decision was not based on science. The FDA said they were going to table the discussion until they could make certain only women seventeen and older could buy it
Wood said, "I have spent the last 15 years working to ensure that science informs good health-policy decisions. I can no longer serve as staff when scientific and clinical evidence, fully evaluated and recommended by the professional staff here, has been overruled."
According to the New York Times, she also said, "I feel very strongly that this shouldn't be about abortion politics. This is a way to prevent unwanted pregnancy and thereby prevent abortion. This should be something that we should all agree on."
Good for you, Dr. Wood. 0 comments
"Quit Your Whining"
Even the Liars Can't Spin This
Friday, September 02, 2005
The Doublespeak Behind the Curtain
Perspective
Sadness
Thursday, September 01, 2005
News Distortion Coming
And as you've no doubt noticed (and some of you have pointed this out to me), it appears that most of the people still in NO are Black. Does this have anything to do with how slow the relief efforts are? I hope not. But as you listen to these politicians (especially Bush), you can see that they have absolutely no freaking concept of what it is like to be poor. This was demonstrated yesterday (or the day before) when the Emperor relaxed the pollution standards and released the reserve oil. He's helping his oil buddies. Who cares that a couple hundred thousand poor people need FOOD, WATER, and SHELTER. And these people being so pissed off about the looting. I recognize that I may not understand the extent of what is happening, and I'm not for looting or lawlessness. I think if you have any respect for yourself, you'd be helping to rescue people rather than breaking into jewelry stores, etc. But if people need food, water, clothing, and medicine and they can't get it any other way during these times, I don't see the problem with them raiding flooded stores. Restoring "order" seems overrated right now (again, I could be very ignorant about the scope of the problem); people need rescuing. 5 comments
New Orleans Street by Street (Updated 1:52 PST)
S.O.S.
I'm so frustrated. It's heartbreaking. Tens of thousands of people are stranded without food and water. Food they can go without for a bit, but they've got to have water. This is the responsibility of the federal government. I'm not Bush-bashing. I did not want him to fail in this endeavor, but they have failed miserably. The military can do this kind of rescue operation well. Where are they? I called my senators and said, "DO SOMETHING!" They said they can't—it's the responsibility of the federal government. I tried calling Hillary Clinton's office, but she's getting so many calls I was put on hold immediately. I want Bill Clinton. When we have a disaster, I want my president: BILL CLINTON. He wasn't perfect, but he knew what to do in an emergency. Remember one of the reasons Bush Sr. lost reelection is because he screwed up the disaster relief when Andrew happened. Clinton revamped FEMA and it did a good job under him. Bush gutted FEMA.
I'm listening to the White House press conference. Scottie Snotty is talking about the Emperor going to the area tomorrow to boost the spirits of the people. WHAT? Fuck that. They need food and water not a boost in their spirits. (Which reminds me, I heard the governor of Louisiana saying that she's praying for everyone. If my governor said something like that during a catastrophe of this magnitude, I would start a campaign the next day to get her out of office. She should have been talking about all the organizing they were doing. She could then add that she was praying, too, but give me a break! I danced a dance to Oya, but I didn't have the power to do anything else. These people had the power to organize things ahead of time.) Now Scottie Snotty is saying that criticism of what they're doing regarding the rescue operation is just politics. I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT POLITICS, YOU MORON. UNFORTUNATELY BUSH IS MY PRESIDENT, TOO. HELP THESE PEOPLE NOW.
People are dying, Bush, DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW.
I'm hoarse again from ether screaming.
If you live in the Southeast and want to offer rooms to people, go here. Here's a place you can go online to donate. 0 comments
New Issue of Journal of Mythic Arts
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