strength ruins itself with swagger
war is not holy
pain is midwife to birth no longer
i am bigger than my fear
all truth is god
god is all truth
this napkin was given to me by a woman in an italian restaurant bar in eagle, co, after many a shared cocktail and tale. i had told her i wanted to write a book or something, and she proceeded to tell me some about her life…..had the feeling she’d lived more than most, clearly most of it tough. but she had a huge fire and passion for everything, and i truly enjoyed her stories and company that evening. it felt to me that she hungered to be known, and she wrote this down, hoping maybe that i’d use some of it somewhere. i just moved, and consequently just went through all my stuff and this surfaced….feels like it wants out there…
american indian-lived in southeast asia. thailand–korea, 6 months in singapore 4 months in bataan (a side place of indonesia). traveled. but to find-hindu reality. husband ex con 1st man to ever record album in state penitentiary (san quentin) ran….next man, child from. father design the nuclear texa (?can’t make that word out) project built in 1974.’
i don’t know if a word of it’s true, but i can tell you i didn’t doubt her when i was looking at her eyes. other people’s lives are amazing, and i think we all feel so ordinary….
i realize this content is close to 2 years old, but legislation has been passed, and we’ll have to research ourselves to find out where we are now. still feels timely.
for those who prefer the more creative expression of a cautionary plea. great use of two hours, primer for the recent history of early 80’s germany, and the fall of the berlin wall.
i have an innate dislike of politics and politicking, but i’ve started to pay more attention to the things that are happening in the world, even voting for president in the last two elections, a privilege i’d skipped out of protest for a while. i don’t watch much tv news, i prefer to surf the web and read time magazine. this video plays like a scene in a phillip k. dick novel, a notion grim and harrowing enough to spur me to some kind of action. don’t know a whole lot about naomi wolf, but i have seen a movie on the web that she put together called ‘the end of america’, based on her book of the same name. haven’t read the book, haven’t fact checked the information in her documentary, but it sounds plausible and feels true on some visceral level. maybe it has something to do with how unsettling the airport is now with its threatening branding of the department of homeland security, images and logos posted everywhere, including the shoulders of the people acting dutifully as its agents. i’ve read this story before, it’s called ‘1984.’ and apparently it’s a well established violent pattern from our collective histories, not just our collective nightmares. it amazes me that this is being broadcast as journalism. but then again, if we really are becoming a democracy in collapse, on the brink of tyranny, wouldn’t it be a fine way to entertain the masses while you did whatever the hell you wanted? something is horribly wrong here….
for a single day my heart
beat in time with yours,
its rhythm so familiar transformed
by the sweetness of your counterpoint
into a current electric
that arced between the nearness of our bodies,
delivering us unconsumed
though indelibly marked,
with the taste of salt lingering
on our tongues.
why is it that we only see images of WOMEN on their knees? in the last 3 months, i can clearly cite three artistic expressions of this tableau, and yet i can’t call to mind a single image, artistic or otherwise, of a man on his knees. wait…..not just knees, on all fours. all three images had women on hands AND knees……the first, i encountered in a glossy magazine, don’t remember which one, but it was spotlighting some hip director or designer who felt compelled to have the glass top of his coffee table rest on the back of a bent over bright white mannequin girl, a la ‘a clockwork orange’. maybe the fact that she was so obviously plastic was supposed to negate the taste of subservience it left in my mouth. bet he relishes putting his feet on top. the second image of late came from a movie i absolutely loved and highly recommend called elegy. at the end of the movie, a particular photograph is commented upon, and the image is that of a woman on all fours, her head tucked sightlessly behind her shoulders……it has a privacy of sorts, in that you only see curve of buttock, no indiscreet cheap thrill, but i was left feeling that i’d met a fellow human in a very nameless, compromising position, and i wondered if she felt as vulnerable hanging there as i did looking at her. the third came from a surprising direction, encountered in the woods as it was, (on the grounds of cheekwood) after crossing through a bamboo forest and an elegantly peaceful zen garden. this woman on all fours is giant in proportion, her legs spread at an arc and angle that we females only use for one activity, her mounds of breasts hanging pertly near her bracing arms, her enormous head whimsically expressed as…..a rabbit’s. does the wildness of the head, the juxtaposition of human and animal distract you sufficiently from the overtly sexual posture of this female body? does it imply her chances of unadulterated survival out here are about as good as a rabbit’s in the wild in that particular position? i’m not sure…..but i do know i’m tired of running into women on their knees. adam, quit blaming your shit on eve, and eve…..quit trying to save yourself with pleasing.