Pudgy Indian

With all the hard and horrible things going on in the world, one always has to take the time to dance.

Rhonda and I got to the powwow in downtown Portland at Pioneer Courthouse Square last night pretty late in the game. We circled the arena. I was greeted by a man who listened to "Mitakuye Oyasin" and heard of the powwow and was thankful to us for mentioning it.

Leland was there, but I didn't really get a chance to talk with him. There were lots of people greetings us and we found ourselves by the sidelines near the stage when Candy ran up to Rhonda and gave her a hug. We all talked for a few.

Rhonda asked if I wanted to dance. It was SWEET! I believe it was the first time we've danced in public together. Rhonda is so wonderful.

Rhonda has been exhausted because her work can sometimes take it out of her. I've been pretty tired still trying to get used to this new schedule on life (up at 2am to get ready for work).

Although the road may become pretty difficult to hoe as we roll into our unkown future in this world, don't forget to dance even as you claim your power.

Yesterdays vigil was quite interesting.

We had a good handful of people there.

Early on, a woman drove rather aggressively toward us, like she wanted to run us over. After she parked, she came at us screaming and yelling with her child in tow. Rhonda said she yelled at her kid to "TELL THEM WHERE YOUR FATHER IS! AFGHANISTAN!"

She went into the recruiting station, then re-emerged with the same ferocity. "GO ARMY!" she was screaning at us. "I Lover your soldiers!"

"So do I," I yelled back.

She had such a ferocity in her eyes, I swear that if she had a gun she would have shot some of us.

Then some young men walked by a couple of times speaking about how good the army is. They drove by screaming from their car, "GO ARMY!"

"SIGN UP!" I yelled. "I'LL HOLD THE DOOR FOR YOU!" "Chickenshits," I said under my breath as they drove safely away. Then they came back by again and screamed "GO ARMY!" repeadedly. I again told them to "SIGN UP!"

I think it would be offensive to those recruiters. These young guys screaming "GO ARMY," and not being willing to sign up. I could imagine them saying, "Hey, you guys in uniform. Could you go over and kill a bunch of Iraqi's and Afghani's for me. Maybe get your leg shot off or be blinded in a bombing. Suffer in the heat. Suffer in the boredom. Rape some of your women comrades. Us? We're gonna stay here where it is safe and comfortable in our daddies home. Sneak a few of his beers. Smoke some pot. We'll be nice and safe...You guys risk your life for me and my beliefs."

Other than those two incidents, we received a lot of support. Sometimes the honking was so loud you couldn't think. IT WAS GOOD!

I started flipping the recruiters the peace sign as well as showing them my "Killing is Wrong" sign. They paid no attention to me. Before we left, I flipped a recruiter a peace sign, and he acknowledged me with a nod.

Rhonda commented on how they told the little boy with the nutty mother to come in and get a ball. Branding, as it were. Rhonda joked that we should hand out balls. "You're gonna need one," she imagined telling a new recruit, "after you get yours blown off."

I haven't felt the urge to write much, lately, other than extremely personal stuff to my honey, Rhonda.

Tonight is the vigil. Be there if you can. 1317 NE Broadway in front of the recruiting center, 5:30 to 6:30pm.

Life is interesting.

There is the impending war with Iran. This really has the potential to bring this nation to its knees or completely down altogether. Venezuela is threatening to sanction the oil the sell here should that happen. Hugo said he'd completely cut us off, which would raise the gas prices to well over $5 a gallon according to Gregg Palast.

Combine that with the fact that China owns quite a bit of our economy and if they dumped it, just threw it away, our economy would fall.

Combine that with the fact that during Bush's illegal war with Iraq, the nation had already been weakened by his daddy's illegal war with Iraq in the early '90's. Iran has an actual military and it won't be so easy for the U.S. just to mow them over like they did with the Iraqi's.

The U.S. military has been complaining the last couple of years of how it has been overextended in Iran because of our illegal occupation there. Imagine what it will be like for them when they are extended even further than they are now with a war on a third front.

Reports are saying the Taliban are coming back strong in Afghanistan. I heard a report that a womans rights activist was assassinated in Kandahar this last week. It makes me think of Fern Holland in Iraq.

Recently, I was interviewed (kind of) for an open mic at Reflections Bookstore on Killingsworth on October 13. I read the woman my "Complicity in the Form of Silence" about Abeer Qassim alJanabi. She liked it a lot.

Rhonda and I are doing very well together, and our relationship will be taking on a new dimension soon which will be very good in my opinion.

I've been invited to a ceremony this weekend.

I attended the NARA Powwow with my honey and Felicia this last weekend. (Rhonda, my honey, was looking very HOT that day...Unnnnhhhhh!) Anyway... (Come to think of it...she looks hot all the time, but especially that day.)

My cousin Trish and her family came up from the rez this last weekend and took Felicia for an overnighter. Rhonda and I took them for pizza the next day.

I'm reading "Hegemony or Survival" by Noam Chomsky. Excellent read about the abuses of the U.S. global force.

Today, I'm going to do what I can to stop the war with Iran. To be honest folks, it looks like this may wind up being the thing that effects all of our lives and motivates most people into a form of action. This is what I've been trying to get us to avoid. We'll see what happens in the months to come. It will take a bit of time after George starts his genocidal illegal war with Iran, but it will hit us and quick, probably within a year, especially if King George usese Nukes, like he so desires to do.

I am hopeful, however, especially as the world is starting to unite against the global forced hegemony of the United States Government. Hang onto your hats, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Folks, you have to read this. Hugo is one of the most amazing leaders in the world today. His speech fills me with hope for the future...READ IT, I SAID! If you don't respond well to that, how about some reverse psychology (you know who this is for...). Don't read this. Don't read it at all. It will give you things like...well, just don't read it (you know who you are).

Thank you Rhonda B. for turning me onto this.

--ej

Chavez Address to the United Nations

http://www.commondreams.org/views06/0920-22.htm

Bush has ordered naval ships into the Persian Gulf probably to start a pre-emptive strike against Iran's nuclear facilities. All the studies and the IAEA say that Iran has no nuclear (nucular in Bush) weapons capabilities and they are at least 10 years from making a bomb. But since when has things like TRUTH or INFORMATION got in the way of Bush starting a war. You know, like the weapons of mass destruction that Iraq didn't have but we slaughtered and continue to slaughter thousands of their citizens and destroyed their infrustructure and created the conditions of civil war there. The good news about Iraq, of course, is that Bush's buddies are making billions in pretty much free money from the conditions created there. You know, like Dick Cheney's company Halliburton. The military, it is estimated, should be prepared to start a war with Iran around October 21st according to an article that Rhonda read. Can you say OCTOBER SURPRISE!? I knew that you could...

Potential in my mind of what may happen: When the U.S. starts it's illegal raids on a sovereign nation using bullshit lies, Iran won't hesitate to defend itself. When Iran defends itself, it will mean all out war and the U.S. unilaterall or otherwise will start to destroy infrustrucure and try to create the same conditions we have in Iraq in order to control the oil out of the Middle East.

Look at the tinier pattern. Suzanne Swift has tried to defend herself from the men in the military who raped and sexually harassed her. Since she has taken these actions, she now faces court-martial and who knows what kind of other punishments such as ongoing harrassment for coming forward. These are clear and consistent patterns within the U.S. government. Punish those who fight back or don't go along with their illegal programs. It is the same thing Bush wants to do to Iran on a greater scale.

What this action may finally do is create a solid coalition between the smaller nations to fight back against the most horrific bully of a nation, the United States. Coalitions are already being created to fight the U.S. giant monster. Folks, we are on the brink of a horrific world war, and the United States is the prime enemy. Everyone will be coming after US.

So, let's try to stop GW's BULLSHIT war before it starts. I don't know what to do, but I will indeed be speaking out at the very least. Do what you can, brothers and sisters. We can win this thing.

STOP THE WAR WITH IRAN NOW!

Last week, Col. Janis Karpinski told a panel of judges at the Commission of Inquiry for Crimes against Humanity Committed by the Bush Administration in New York that several women had died of dehydration because they refused to drink liquids late in the day. They were afraid of being assaulted or even raped by male soldiers if they had to use the women's latrine after dark.

The latrine for female soldiers at Camp Victory wasn't located near their barracks, so they had to go outside if they needed to use the bathroom. "There were no lights near any of their facilities, so women were doubly easy targets in the dark of the night," Karpinski told retired US Army Col. David Hackworth in a September 2004 interview.

It was there that male soldiers assaulted and raped women soldiers. So the women took matters into their own hands. They didn't drink in the late afternoon so they wouldn't have to urinate at night. They didn't get raped. But some died of dehydration in the desert heat, Karpinski said.

http://www.pamspaulding.com/weblog/2006/01/women-in-uniform-die-to-avoid-rape-by.html


And now, Suzanne Swift is facing a possible court-martial for desertion. Isn't it horriffic to know that the men in the military get away with raping the women in the military. Not to mention Abeer Qassim al-Janabi, a 14-year-old Iraqi girl raped by U.S. soldiers who murdered her, her parents, and per baby sister. This behavior seems to be very consistent within the U.S. military. So here is something women face when they join: increased chances of sexual harassment and rape by their fellow military men, and if they speak out and want it to stop like Suzanne Swift, you may get court-martialed. In other words: Suzanne Swift faces a court martial for not putting up with her fellow military men sexually harrassing and raping her (coercion into sex IS RAPE!). Here is the latest article if you're interested.

--ej

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/091906F.shtml

Just had a great "Mitakuye Oyasin" show. Unfortunately David wasn't there, because he is a fan of the great Arigon Starr as well.

I read a rant about the vigil and 911 and which I'll post after I clean it up in the next couple of days. Basically I think it is bullshit in memorializing one act of terror and not even attempting to honor those who have suffered under constant terror, terror bombings in other nations that have happened since 911 (some 74,000 killed in acts of terror since, can you name any others than 911?). Terror exists in our homes, neighborhoods, states, nations, world. Let's end it instead of memorialize it.

Anyway, I interviewed Ofelia Rivas in the first half. Ofelia is T'hono O'dham (pronounced Tonno Ottum). The T'hono O'dham are facing a horrific occupation as the their reservation crosses the U.S. border with Mexico. The U.S., as many of you know, is building their own version of the Berlin wall between us and the "illegal immigrants" like the Israeli's are building their Berlin Wall between them and the Palestinians. Both of these walls are cutting into the borders of other nations. These nations just give themselves the right to commit this form of genocide. Some of their story and upcoming protests can be read on http://www.greenaction.org/. Do what you can to help. Because of the little bit of media they've been getting, the unwarranted house raids have currently ended, but things are still not pretty for them. There is a wall being built and separating their communities and disrupting sacred ceremonies. This action has a name. It is called "genocide." Article 2 section C, UN convention on genocide: imposing conditions upon life to bring about the destruction of a people in whole or in part. It sounds a lot like Palestine on the reservation.

The second half of the show was surprise guest Arigon Starr. She is a great song writer and her show is currently on and off the road depending on when you can catch her. It is called "The Red Road." It is about an Indian trucker and the life around a truck stop in Oklahoma city. Fun stuff, folks. We had a really great time. I have it recorded and can probably make you copies of it if you are interested in hearing it. Otherwise, you might be able to pick up her cd at CD-baby, her website www.arigonstarr.com, or Amazon. She is so hilarious. Inside the cover it is pictures of her as the various characters in her play. John Tally, host of "Indian World," sister program to "Mitakuye Oyasin" which airs on opposite Thursdays, and I were both laughing our asses off.

The show was basically a show of sweet and sour. Arigon is awesome. You should pick up her CD's and sing along and laugh. She is so funny!

And you should do what you can to help the T'hono O'dham peoples and the suffering the U.S. government wishes to impose upon them in order to protect us from undocumented peoples who come to this nation to work. Notice, folks, how there is NO Berlin Wall going up between the U.S. and Canada. Is it because Canada is mostly a white and white identified nation. Alleged terrorists can get through that border much easier than the Mexican border. But it is a darky and darky identified non-English speaking nation to the South, and if you are a darky or darky sympathizer, you know that this is still, indeed, a racist nation, and that this FUCKING Berlin Wall on the Mexican border is an act of racism as well as genocide.

And let's not forget, the U.S. IS an occupied territory. This nation came about by committing genocide against Indians and continuing that work with it's kinder gentler forms because the U.S. knows what they did and ARE doing is WRONG as well as ILLEGAL! But the government will make it legal by simply saying that it is. They are, afterall, the masters that write the laws. That is why the can legally/illegally impose themselves on the sovereign nation of the T'hono O'dham and build this wall between this white identified English speaking nation and the darky non-English speaking nation to the South.

And then there was the sweet and funny Arigon. Get that CD. Maybe she can make a video of it all. We should all help her out as well.

Folks, like Emma Goldman said, "If I can't dance at your Revolution, I aint gonna come." We need the bread like Ofelia, and the roses like Arigon. And both are a bit of bread and roses. And we need the sweet. We need the dance. We need that to energize ourselves in changing this world for the better. We can't do this with a constant vigilance because it will burn us out. We need to dance. We need to celebrate big and small and struggle big and small and it is ALL important.

So there you go folks!

more later, REVOLUTION NOW!

And again, I'm finding beauty everywhere.

As I walked down Terry
journeying to the max,
I stopped to sniff
the light scent of beautiful roses,
and the gentleman on the porch told me
to take it if I'd like.
Maybe on my way back.

On my way into the city
the City looked so beautiful
through the steel bridge
in the light
of the beginning of fall.

I get off at Pioneer Courthouse Square,
and head for Rich's
for cigars and tobacco
as I have finished paying
on my bankruptcy.

All the people are so different.
Some smile.
Some are sad.
Some happy.
The buildings are beautiful
and seem almost new.
They are like old friends
I haven't seen in a while,
and am making reaquaintance.

I get my smokes
light one up
and head down the street.
I chose fifth and sixth to walk down
because they are the busways
that I had become so familiar with
in the time since I left my ex.
They are beautiful.

I cross the Burnside Bridge
and I can hear the River
my river
our river
the Willamette River
whisper to me that
she missed me.
I am still
the only one who makes offerings to her
the way I do.
To honor her
to understand her validity
and purpose
and to honor that.
It makes her happy
even through all her aches.
She is happy to know
that someone thinks of her
as having a life
as valid and important
as my own.
She is so beautiful.

Off to Grendel's
A Grendel's Ghost.
A hello to Meagan
and Eric,
and there are two new baristas
I barely know.

I chuckle as I cross Burnside
and head for the greatest place on earth
KBOO
to write these words
and so many others
to you.
I suck the whipped cream
off the top of my coffee drink
while smoking the nub
of my cigar.

Beauty surrounds me.
Beauty is everywhere.
And damn
if I don't feel like I've changed again
and damn
if I don't feel like I can change the world.

May we all feel the same
or similar
enjoy our beauty
the beauty of the world
and do something
to change the world for the better.
I know we can do it.
Let's do it.

Susan Kuhnhausen, 51, an emergency room nurse, about 5' 7" and 260 pounds, got home last week to find an intruder, Edward Dalton Haffey, 59. Dalton was a felon with a long record and was armed with a hammer. He and Susan got in a struggle and Susan wound up strangling the guy to death. WOO-HOO! I'm married to a nurse. I Love that, and I Love her!

Rhonda informs me regularly she Loves her job. She is a hospice nurse, and in the work she does she gets to exercise her Love for the people, her compassion, and does something very important, helping people in the process of crossing over. Like midwifery into the spirit world. The work she does is amazing, and she is good at it. I Love her very much!

Work for me has always just been work. I have been an activist for years and folks, there just aint no money in it. I have written for years, but people get it for free because I'm willing to share it that way, no money in that either. Besides, my book was a failure in many senses (I still have about 20 copies left). I don't sell myself well and doing that type of work one has to sell onself to the people. Kind of like prostituting yourself.

I never went to college. I always wanted to be a working stiff like my dad. I was proud of my dad. Dad, on the other hand, wanted me to go to college. He passed on before I even got out of high school, so I didn't have that support when I left my institutional education.

Being just an everyday working stiff, I like my current job. I go in, deal with management on a minimal basis, I hit the road (I Love to drive), deliver a bunch of food (feeding the people, but more like feeding business), I go back to the warehouse, deal minimally again with management, and I go home. Each week I get a paycheck, and for a grunt job, this one pays pretty well.

Recently I thought of being a sociologist. I attempted to get into the educational system, but until my 42nd year of life is over, it will be difficult for me to get education money (I never signed up for selective service, which is a crime). Because of my early poor decisions, and good decions, I am now just a working stiff. I grunt to make others money and they give me money for rent on my time and skills as a driver and delivery boy.

My work is never fulfilling like it is with Rhonda. My work is just my work. I am good at it and I get a paycheck for it. William Temple House was close. It was good working with all of my fellow human beings like that, but it also had its drawbacks.

I like being a working stiff, but I feel like I've missed out on so much. All of that time I rented out to others could have been used doing something more useful and helpful to the people. I mean working is a part of the economy and it keeps things moving in this world and working people are awesome fucking people, but I feel like it has been unfulfilling to me, or rather, is becoming "not enough" for me.

Sociology is slipping from my heart. Attempting a writing career is COMPLETELY out of my mind. I don't feel lost or empty. I have no regrets. I would like to have a career that is more helpful to the people. I'm not so sure about a higher education anymore either. I think their will ALWAYS be road blocks for me to get into college unless I suddenly become a muti-millionaire. But if I become a mutli-millionaire, I'd spend most of my time doing activist work and not having to worry about having a job to help support my family. The likelyhood of me becoming a multi-millionaire are pretty much non-existant.

I guess I'm feeling restless as far as work is concerned. What I do, I do well. But it doesn't fulfill me the way I'd like it to. It does in the sense that I feel secure and have an income, but there isn't a whole lot of substance, but I don't see any other way for me to have an economy. I like to work. I like my job. I like helping my family out financially. But something is missing and I'm just not sure what.

It was a good day yesterday at the vigil. Two recruiters only came out once to smoke cigarettes. We got lots of support, several thumbs down, and one flip off.

An elderly black man came up riding on his bike. He informed Bob and I that he was a war hawk. Bob is the old guy, member of Veterans for Peace, who stands on the corner with his signs like "Sweden 250 years without war." His sign this week said "War is a Racket," and on the other side, "Read General Butler's Book." Anyway, this elderly black man came up to talk with us. I had seen him talking with Rhonda before. So he informs us he is a "war hawk," as I stated previously. So Bob and I set about asking if he ever read Smedley Butler's book, "War is a Racket." I set into giving him a history lesson on how wealthy white guys tried to recruit Butler into building an army to take over the U.S. government and setting up a pro-corporate fascist regime. I informed him how they wanted to use McCarthur, but McCarthur was unpopular amongst the soldiers especially because of his actions against the "Bonus Army" on the White House lawn. He took his little history lesson and decided to go look it up himself.

Rhonda was doing her work in informing the people that walked by...and I just have to say it...OH LAY! SHE WAS LOOKING FINE! Anyway... Peace, it's a wonderful thing.

As we were packing it up, a blonde woman came up and starting informing us that "[we] make [her] sick." She was very confrontational, and like ALL people I have ever met with arguments like hers (unlike the previous gentleman mentioned), they like to hit and run and not have their propagandized ideals challenged. Of course she had to ask one of those stupid questions (yes, there are such things as stupid questions, especially in this context) "Where do you come from?"
I informed her as she did her best to disappear into the restaurant that I came from here and that her people slaughtered my people in order to create this wonderful condition of privilege that she so enjoys now. Mind you, I didn't get to get all of that out because the best way to win an argument is to RUN AWAY, which she did so well.

As we packed up our signs and got ready to go, I saw the woman back at her car digging something out. Knowing I didn't have much time to discuss this issue with her and seeing she was somewhat of a captive audience, I yelled so she could hear me above the traffic and through her car. "Sign up! You should never support a war unless you are willing to take up arms and fight in it yourself because you are asking others to do your killing for you." I doubt this did much good, but she has the proper military attitude. Get in there with some form of violence. Have no desire for peace, because peace is not your job. Doubt she'll sign up, though. She seems like the type that would much rather cheer on the killers from a safe distance than to fight beside them.

I tell one and all that show a lack of support for us to "sign up." I don't care if they're elderly even. If their hands can flip us off or give us the thumbs down while gripping their steering wheel with their other hand, then they damned well can pull the trigger of a gun and murder people themselves instead of sitting at a safe distance while asking others to do their killing for them.

Quick look at the land of alleged "freedom." Women are oppressed in this nation still. Rhonda's handout mentioned how a woman's risk of sexual abuse and rape are increased when they join the military. She printed an article she had found about it along with the names of the Americans killed in Iraq this last week. Women are regularly sexually harassed and raped on a regular basis in the military. It even mentioned some recruiters raqing female recruits on the couches of their recruiting office. There's some "freedom" for you.

Indigenous peoples still face genocide on a daily basis in this nation.

Racism is rampant in this nation, that is why they are building a wall between Mexico and the U.S. and not between Canada and the U.S.

Blacks are still oppressed. A 5-year-old black girl got handcuffed by police for throwing a fit in a classroom. Imagine if that was a little white girl. Black peoples votes are often targeted by this administration. The military is recruiting from racist hate groups now. This nation has still NEVER answered for slavery NOR lynchings.

People are losing their jobs everywhere, including middle class jobs. The unemployment services are being reduced while multi-billion dollar corporations get our tax money for free.

There are just a few bits of the alleged "freedom" I know of going on around town.

Today is September 11, 100 years since Gandhi officially started the non-violent peace movement, 80 years since the British empire set the boundaries between Israel and Palestine to bring about the current conditions today, 35 years since a CIA backed coup put Pinochet in power in Chile starting the slaugter of some 50,000 people, and a mere 5 years since the only known terror attack in the United States, the downing of the WTC's.

I only want to comment on the blinders, because here in the United States, the only act of terror known is what happened in New York on September 11, 2001. How about February 26, 1856, the Wiyot Massacre in Humboldt Bay? How about December 29, 1890, Wounded Knee? How about the dates I can't remember like the slaughter of the Moro's by the U.S. in the Phillipines during the Spanish American War? How about the bombing of the bomb shelter in the city whose name I forgot during the '91 Gulf War? But no! These and SO many other dates are ignored or completely forgotten because in the eyes of America, nothing was an act of terror until the WTC came down. Not even what the World Trade Organization does to societies around the world compares in American eyes to the acts of planes being flown into American buildings on American soil. Now...in American eyes...it is terror. FUCK THAT BULLSHIT!

Ward Churchill stated in his lectures about how the Dutch colonized Manhattan Island, allegedly buying it from the Indians there with some trinkets, although the Indians just considered it rent and figured them to be OK. The Dutch decided to put an end to their "Persistent Indian Problem," and slaughtered the Indians on the other side of the island. The Indians weren't exactly sure what was happening and thus didn't put up much of a fight, not being used to warfare where MASS SLAUGHTER is the norm. The Dutch, being so surprised by their victory, cut the heads off of all of their victims to take them back to their leaders as proof of their victory and loyalty. To celebrate, they played soccer with the heads of their victims...all in great fun, of course. Not like the Indians were really human beings. Anyway, Ward says that that little soccer game happened right where the WTC buildings once stood. Interesting, huh? I don't know the date of that slaughter, either.

The giant arch backed metal monster reached across the river to eat me.
Saturday...
in the early morning misty rain
atop the monster's back
stood two figures
cloaked in capes
with lights that illuminated
a horrifying mystery
strouded in the mist
of an early morning Saturday.
The monsters gaping mouth
made the whole scene
look like something out of a comic book
as I drove my truck
(doing the speed limit, of course)
into it's gaping
sturgeon like mouth.

The lights of the city below,
on the ships,
in the buildings
as we all awoke
to the mysteries
of wet emotions
looked like a comic book city
and I wondered if that was how
the idea for Gothem City
was born
in the imaginations
of millions.

And the monster swallowed me
and my work truck
and I drove straight out its asshole
and headed toward Beaverton.

The monster turned out to be
the Fremont Bridge...
No wonder I wasn't scared shitless.


Felicia and I walked down Lombard
later that evening
heading down from our journey on the max
from downtown
where we just celebrated salmon
kinda.

I pointed out all the beautiful flowers
and especially the lawn
the woman worked hard and diligently on
all summer
and created a beautiful space
right there
on one of the busiest streets
in this interesting city.

I point out the roses
blossoming
and feeling desirous
of insects and birds
to pass on
their sexy sweetness.

"Hey dad," Felicia calls.
I turn to see her smell
a magenta rose
and looking visibly disappointed
at its lack of a scent.
I smell the other blossom.
"It's feint," I say.
"But it's there."

Sometimes...
that is where the power is.

Rhonda , Felicia, and I went to see "Press for Truth," about the 911 families that fought hard for the 911 Commission which, of course, turned into a cover-up.

Prior to that, a man was talking about how the WTC buildings couldn't have come down the way they did without help. Building 7 is the one that got me. I remembered watching it when it first happened, but I knew that all of this shit was a set-up (clear and consistent pattern of imperialist governments throughout history). That one definitely came down with help. It was also interesting that members of the Bush family were part of the security system in the buildings. It raises a lot of questions.

There are many people who obsess about 911, and their work has brought forth some valuable information and further exposes to the "ignoring" population of America. Condaleeza Rice telling the commission they had no hard evidence at all before the attack and then talking about the memo a month prior and when asked what it was titled she said "something like 'Osama Bin Laden set to attack inside the United States." It was something like that anyway. It amuses me to watch them lie right in front of alleged investigators and them not even hit her with some serious questions about it. "But aint that America..."

Where I put my focus is bringing an end to all of this BULLSHIT! And, sadly, I beginning to realize that unless everyone is suffering, people in the U.S. are too comfortable in their privileged condition to really give a shit that this government is slaughtering so many others for our privilege which is alleged to be freedom. Those they aren't killing are FORCED to suffer greatly. It is a bunch of bullshit.

An example of the above I read in "Guerilla Radio," about a radio station that continued to speak out about Milosivek's genocidal regime in the former Yugoslavia. After 10 years of suffering from fair to horrific, finally the hard core riff-raff supporters came out and said that Milosivek was a mother-fucking piece of shit. Here, we haven't even started to suffer.

But I'd rather my humans didn't suffer at all, and those that bathe in privilege mislabeled freedom got off their asses for their fellow human beings and helped out.

I don't fault those humans, either. They've been trained properly. Their safety under privilege, public education, what passes for media, propaganda, being reminded they are powerless, etc. They've been trained. It's time to "reneducate" them. Don't wait for the suffering to come. Let's end this bullshit now. That bullshit is imperialism, which the U.S. and Britian and France and so many other nations are. Imperialism breeds privilege, and those who are not a part of the privilege are FORCED to suffer at our expense. The Superprivileged benefit the most and own the processes of propaganda that feed our fears of being powerless before the big hungry monster. I am here to tell you, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! YOU HAVE THE POWER! USE IT OR CONDITIONS MAY ARISE THAT YOU MAY BE FORCED TO USE IT! Why wait, let's all end imperialism and its many horrible symptoms before more of our lovely fellow human beings get murdered or are forced to suffer for the Superprivileged.

Thank you!

There is a lot being said about U.S. torture and the various techniques they are using. There is the out and out stuff that I saw videos of Saddams work, but there is this more underhanded and alleged acceptable stuff. It's like comparing physical abuuse to verbal abuse. There was a man named John Zubec whose work is used prominently today. When I first started hearing about the style of torture being acceptable for the U.S. to get away with committing, I thought of John Zubec. When given the book "The Guineapigs" by my friend Maire, a book about torture in Northern Ireland by the Brits, I checked the index, and sure enough, Zubec is mentioned. So here is a tiny piece of torture history our kids aren't going to be learning about in the public schools.

"When I was a graduate student at University of Manitoba I used to have lunch with a grad student from Psych. The Psych-Zoo building had been built with funds from a grant from the Canadian Defense Research Board and the fifth floor was accessible only by special key and it housed the labs of John Zubec who had been involved in sensory-deprivation and other forms of research related to interrogation techniques (we did not know that at the time). Well this grad student told me that there was a 24-7 armed RCMP guard on the fifth floor, that sutdents were being given credits for participating in experiments dealing not only with sensory deprivation in general, but also succeptibility to pain, pain thresholds, malleability etc as functions of different forms and levels of sensory deprivation. I passed this information on of course, and soon we had student demonstrations against Zubec on a regular basis. We got a hold of the "Compton Report" which is a report by "Lord Compton" on British interrogation techniques in Northern Ireland, that cited, over and over, John Zubec as having provided the theoretical foundations for these torture techniques. Later, that same grad student told me about use of microwaves etc to experiment for possible synapse-jamming capabilities ona mass level. Before all of that was exposed, John Zubec committed suicide in August of 1974. One of his close friends, a guy I had for Cell Biology told me that he considered me as the chief culprit responsible for Zubec's suicide and that I had better not be a Biology major in his department; I told him that I was flattered but could not take "credit" for what was Zubec's choice--or perhaps someone elses."

--Jim Craven

My computer is acting kind of goofy. I wound up having to shut down and it ate my whole post. Weird damned things.

Rhonda and I have both been really tired lately. Rhonda has been overworked and I'm getting used to this new work schedule and the hard physical labor. I am really starting to like my job especially considering that I am pretty much on my own now.

Rhonda called from her on call last night and informed Felicia and I that the moon rising was beautiful. When we could finally see it, I could see what she meant.

Felicia and I went to a salmon event at the Ecotrust building downtown. It was fun! Felicia tried her hand at rock climbing. She was really tired yesterday, too, because her Papa (Lisa's dad) got ill and it really scared the crap out of both of them, then we walked all over the place, and then rock climbing.

I've been feeling kind of bland at times, then I get this really joyous feeling. It just comes right out of the blue and puts a smile on my face.

Life is good! I am in Love with Rhonda. I Love my friends. Fall is coming and the work, job and personal, feel like they are about to get ready to fruit and be harvested. It's becoming that time of year again, folks...ENJOY!

There is a hill
just West of the baseball fields
in Columbia Park.
It is not high and tall,
but nestled gently amongst the trees.
I hear the hawk calling me there.
Asking about Rhonda.

The park was neutral territory
in my childhood
from the pedophile aggressive white grandfather,
despondent racist mother,
alcoholic father with beautiful false teeth,
dysfunctional family
where we could enjoy each others company
for a time.

The little hill
seems to be
the center of the universe.
I reflect upon my life,
good, bad, and everything in between
and all around.

I feel like I have clung
to my ideas
of the world.
I reflect on my history
and cling to it like a bad religion
when a voice
like a whisper
in a tidal wave
of pure water
helps me to take the time
to release them
and I feel free
different
even different from just the moment before.

These changes don't necessarily happen
right away.
They have their own time
and they are coming.

I have had a great life!
I am in Love with Rhonda!

I decide to go the direction
I always took into the park
when I was a kid
walking from the white
grandparents house.
I feel release.
I feel like I'm reversing
all the energy
I uselessly cling to
in a symbolic action.

And there it is
on Lombard
with caution tape
on those cast iron hand rails
leading to the front door
where after knocking
as a child
grandma would pull the tiny curtain
aside
from in front of the window.

Welcome...yet not!

The slope of the front yard
that seemed 10's of feet high
as a child
seems barely recognizable as an adult.

The van
white grandpa
drove after breaking his back.
The east side of the house
where white grandpa's ladder gave
breaking his back
and paralyzing him.

There are no faces looking out at me.
There is nothing.

Grandma still lives there
just blocks away from me.
In these four months
I have felt no desire to visit
and still don't.
I release
the power
I have allowed
that history
to have over me.
Racist white fucks!

Here I am,
not knowing what it means
but feeling lighter
and happier
every step
I take away
from there.

I see casualties of war
everywhere I go.

I want to sit in the bathtub
and try to wash it all off
but I've been there before
and it is not a method that works.

I see casualties of war
everywhere...

I have no desire to wash them off
no desire to push them away
no desire to let them go.
They are my fellow human beings.

Yesterday, during the vigil, a young darkskinned woman emerged from the recruiting station on Broadway here in the great city of Portland, Oregon. I pointed my "Killing is Wrong" sign toward her and pointed to the words with a smile. A look of wanting to run crossed her face, and she left as rapidly as possible. An elderly woman protester with us told her she looked cute. I know those eyes.

I've seen them
In the mirror
in my family
in my loved ones
in my friends
in strangers passing by
on television
on the internet...

That woman
in the simple act of joining the military
in the probable desire of "serving" her country
maybe make some money for school
has greatly increased her chances of being
sexually harrassed
or raped
by her fellow military.
These people are trained to be aggressive.
Rape is aggressive.

The black man was not there yesterday, and I missed him. I want to talk to him some more. Tell him how cluster bombs were created. How two psychologists were hired by the U.S. government to find out what colors most attracted children. Turned out to be flourescent orange and flourescent green. So they colored the little bomblets those colors, because, you see, the original intent of cluster bombs was not to kill, but to main children. Med-aids would have to take care of the children. Hospitals would be filled with wounded children and thus using resources that could be used to repair troops to fight back against American imperialist forces in Vietnam. And those beautiful children would not be able to fight against the American imperialst forces when they grew up. Those beautiful children would become drains on the social structure of the society when they grew up. This is the thinking of the organization the recruiters and their military brethren work for. That is not freedom.

Rhonda is so Beautiful.
I looked at her frequently
talking with others
holding her sign
smiling at me from time to time.

The only negative response we received at yesterday's vigil was from an elderly man and an elderly woman, and I yelled for both of them to sign up. And I half jokingly...HALF JOKINGLY...believe that the recruiters would actually attempt to sign them up. "Can you hold five pounds to your shoulder? Perfect. Does your trigger finger work? Perfect. Sign on the line."

Met a man with an amazing mind. Crack addict and alcoholic and a victim of a domestic war that still happens to so many I see walking down the streets. The man writes with an amazing style and the crack he was high on makes his energy so intense. War and its victims have many faces. And his trigger finger is used in holding a lighter to a pipe, wrapped around a can, holding a pen to write words that many of our fellow humans should read.

And Mr. Peace
would NEVER befriend
those who ever pulled the trigger
even if they changed their hearts.
They weren't born
with the purity of Jesus
like him
and therefore
should be excluded
in his Peaceful mind.
And I've seen the victims of his war.
Heard them speak about
a violence
that doesn't require wars
or killing.

But those in the military
are the people I want to reach.
I have many vet friends.
Their hearts have changed
and they speak out.
And once we can get
all those who pull the trigger
simply because someone tells them to
to STOP,
the only people that would be left
to pull the trigger
are the assholes
who pull the strings
who are too chicken shit
to face down the bullets
or kill those
that help their corporate owners
here in
"The Land of the Privileged."

If those who create the wars
had to fight them,
there would be fewer wars
and a lot more friendships.

I see beauty everywhere. I see beauty in the eyes of those vitimized by the MANY wars all over this world. I watch beauty in the trees, the smell of the pink rose yesterday. Beauty in the way Rhonda holds her sign, smiles, talks about the people she nurses. Beauty in the words created by Kmt. Beauty in the words by Rhonda, Rainelle, and so many others. Beauty in the faces of those recruiters, my fellow protesters, those passing by. Beauty in our open hands reaching for connection with a smile.

Steven Lindenmeyer (sp?), long time KBOO supporter and activist, and one time KBOO boardmember, has passed on. All I have been able to get out of anyone around here so far (all those who know the details are really busy), is that he was hit by a train. We had many conversations in the hallways of the BOO and at rallies and marches we'd run into each other at. My condolences to Ruth Kovacs, Steve's mother, and to all of his Loved ones and KBOO for their loss.

Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, whom I do not know personally, has passed on. A stingray barb to the heart I've been told. Steve Iriwin's energy and enthusiasm bothered me at first, but then after listening to him and watching him many times, the man had a true Love for our animal relations. The man has had so many close calls, I figured him to be pretty much invincable. The animals have lost a great ally, and I hope that he has created many allies for the animals through his show and his enthusiasm and Love for them. My condolences to his wife and kids, to his father, his co-workers, all of his fans and Loved ones.

Hey...Steve's...please send reinforcements if you can. This world...We all need them. Thank you both for your work.

I just finished reading "The Root Worker" by Rainelle Burton. It is a book about poor blacks in Detroit in the 1960's. It is an amazing and troubling piece of work. It is stories I've heard, witnessed, and experienced in many different forms. It is amazing and troubling. It is well worth reading. My poor fellow humans. We have a lot of work to do to make this world a better place. I highly recommend reading this book. It did trigger some emotional stuff in me because it does have incest rape in it, but it was well worth it. The story opens up to beauty and healing in the end.

Speaking of having our work cut out for us, I have been making many journeys into my least favorite part of town, Beaverton. Not only is it flat and boring, I can tell a large majority of the people don't give a shit about what is going on in the world. Why should they? The war in Iraq doesn't directly effect them. Neither does the rape of women in Darfur nor the genocide there. Neither does the poverty on U.S. reservations. Neither does the rampant child rape and sex abuse in this country. Neither does... Then I think of the vigil that has been going on by the Library in Beaverton for over a year now and have hope.

I have now dove into the book "Body of Secrets" by James Bamford. It is a book about the NSA (National Security Agency). Since I mentioned them, I'm sure they are now picking up this little tidbit. This book is a must read. America is sick. There is no level playing field anywhere, and that is NOT freedom, it is privilege. So, to you NSA folks who might be reading this: What is so wrong with peace. Read Smedley Darling Butler's book "War is a Racket." You are not protecting our freedom, you are protecting the wealth of the already wealthy. You are helping to keep those on reservations in poverty. You are helping to kill people all over the world in the name of corporate greed. Please, do something to HELP the people. Stop doing shit that brings more death and wealth for the overly privileged here in the "Land of the Privileged." When my alleged freedom comes at the suffering of others so I can write this message to you on this computer, that is NOT freedom, that is privilege. I know I am privileged, even though I don't belong to the privileged classes or race. Sadly, I benefit from the type of work you do. I'd rather we all live in peace. Besides, like the sign I hold out in front of the recruiting office on 1317 NE Broadway every Tuesday from 5:30 to 6:30 says..."Killing is Wrong." And here is another bit for you, brothers and sisters, my fellow humans who work for the NSA: "Never support a war you are not willing to take up arms and fight in yourselves because you are asking others to do your killing for you." Besides, complicity in killing is killing also.

Maybe I'll see you at the recruiting station some Tuesday, taking pictures of us like the recruiters sometimes do in an attempt to intimidate. If you show up, let me know, and I'll tell you about the "Death Vision" a friend of mine had. Doesn't have to do with end times, just taking responsibility for actions and what has happened because of our actions...or inactions.

Rhonda, Felicia and I went out for breakfast at Hometown Buffet.

After eating ourselves silly, we got a few groceries at The Daily Grind and then went to Powell's dowtown.

Rhonda went home, and Felicia wanted to see a movie her last day before sixth grade with me. (She starts sixth grade tomorrow). There wasn't anything I wanted to see. She wanted to see something scary, so she decided on "Monster House" which she was not that happy about, but she wanted to see a movie.

Monster House, an animated film, was actually rather good. In fact, much better than "The Wicker Man." (I remember what I said to my wife after she reminded me. "You can't go wrong with Nicholas Cage. [pause] Yeah you can.") Monster House is about some kids who fight the house across the street from one of them which turns out to be possessed. This movie actually touched on some of those things that used to scare me about scary movies, unlike Wicker. It didn't actually scare me, but it was quite entertaining with a good ending and quite funny and touching as well.

If you are into kids movies, or have a kid, this is a good movie to take them to.

Yesterday was my neice's 17th birthday party. I thought she was 17. Where does the time go? As my sister showed me around her new place, she caught Rhonda and I attempting to make out in the cooler rooms (she has AC).

Rhonda thought of going to a movie to stay cool in the AC of a theater. We went to see "The Wicker Man." If you have to time to see this movie...don't waste it. Nicholas Cage should fire his agent. Before hand, Rhonda and I were joking and I said something like, "It can't be all bad. It has Nicholas Cage in it." And then I thought outloud..."Yes it can." It was bad. It was an attempt at a psycho thriller, but it was really a piece of crap that painted pagans in a bad light that like human sacrifice.

Human sacrifice! You know, that has always fascinated me. I remember people telling me that the human sacrifice enacted by Aztec's, which was never physically witnessed but there are many theories like that of Kennewick Man that state 10's of thousands were killed every year. However, the human sacrifice enacted by Cortes was true and just as he slaughtered millions of Indians. Hmmm?

I had a lot of good dreams last night, too. I don't remember them, I just remember talking with a spirit helper and seeing a chestnut horse behind a barbed wire fence in a field. The horse seemed very happy.

more later, REVOLUTION NOW!

There is never a problem
without a gift for you in its hands.

I knew there was a gift in this thing
somewhere
in all the confusion and pain,
and by gum
with the help of my
Huckleberry Honey,
I think we done found it.

JOHNSON!
There's treasure
beneath all that bullshit of yours.

Sometimes
when we find the nuggets in our lives
we have to dig through
a lot of our shit.
Sometimes we don't always know
it is a nugget
until we really polish the thing
clean all the shit off it
and laugh a celebrate and sing and dance.

And eat burritos, tacos, and rellenos.

...and let's not forget
the peanut butter cup
ice cream.

Drink lots of water,
take care of yourself,
and do the things
that make you healthy.

Treasure!

I want to run into the sunrise
till I burn up
and become ash
and am blown in all directions
by hurricane winds.

I want to leap up into the stars
cling on for dear life
and listen to all the jokes
they have told for billions of years
up to the present
and beyond.

I want to swim with the salmon
breathe underwater
like in my dreams,
find the source
and be thankful.

I want to give everything
I own
away
but I barely have enough
for myself
which seems like way too much.

I want to lay in a meadow
and curl up in a ball
under a buffalo robe
where only insects will visit me.

I want to kiss the rain
and laugh as it dances in my mouth.

I want to watch funny movies
and laugh
until tears
squirt out of my eyes.

I want to change the world
with Revolution and knowledge
Love and compassion.

I want everyone to cry
on everyone's shoulders
until everyone laughs
and then everyone crys again.

I want to sing out loud
while walking down the street.

I want to toss coins and tobacco
from a bridge
in prayers for life.

I want to go somewhere
but have nowhere to go.

I want to eat.
I'm hungry,
but I don't want to eat.

I feel like
everything has changed
within my soul
and yet I'm still the same
and yet not the same at all.

I feel numb
and I want to feel pain
joy, Love, ache
fear, bravery
breath...

Everything has changed
and yet I'm still the same.

I want to go somewhere
but have nowhere to go
no way to get there.

I walk around in parks
enjoy the trees
pray with smoke
and I have nowhere to go
and no way to get there
and I don't know where I want to go
and don't know what I'd do
if I could get there.

It is all inside me.

I remember joys
tops of mountains
desert floors
hot springs
snow and rain
cold
hot
beauty...

I want to go somwhere
but I have no way to get there
and don't even know where I'd go
if I could
and I don't want to laugh
and I don't want to cry
and what would I do if I got there
and it is all inside me
it is all inside me
and means nothing at all
and means everything
because everything has changed
inside me.
Everything has changed
inside me
and I have no idea what
any of it is.

And I'm no longer
satisfied with myself.
But I have no idea what that means.

I want to go somewhere
but I have nowhere to go
no way to get there
and don't think it would change a thing
anyway
Because
Everything has changed...
but I'm still the same.

"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"
Erasing memory.
Erasing pain.
But there is beauty in there, too.

My pain is small...
nothing.
I've read of people who cling harder to smaller
and those who deal well
with much worse.

It is memory
post traumatic stress disorder
and how we all deal with it.
It's really insignificant
compared to the rest of my life.

Maybe I'll take a walk today,
think and pray.

Eternal Sunshine... taught me a lesson
beside just the fact
that Jim Carrey can really act,
it reminded me of the importance of memory.
A lesson offered to me
at just the right time.

I remember in silence
my pain can be best expressed.
One of the sacred rights is silence...
to listen.

Memory
Remembering is important.

We will come to this world again!
We willx all meet again!
and when we do...
WE WILL DANCE
and CELEBRATE
and have one
HECKUVA TIME!