Saturday, 30 June 2007
All about Missy
Welcome to one of my blogs. I love this place. It is my place to vent about politics, Bush, the war, the injustices in life that I see daily and my personal struggles. I do not post as often here as I should but I will try harder, I promise.
I am a very out lesbian and I write often about GLBT issues. I am more than just a lesbian but it is a big part of my life.
I love and live with the woman of my dreams, Kristy. She is the strongest, most amazing individual I have ever had the distinct pleasure of knowing.
I work for Kristy's parents doing just about anything they need in their contracting business. I love it there and it affords me the opportunity to get to know my in-laws better every day. I love them and the feeling is certainly mutual.
I have three children. My oldest daughter is almost 17 and I have another daughter that is almost 16. My son is only 4. They live with my ex-partner in California.
I live in an absurdly tiny town I affectionately refer to as Planet Streator in Illinois. I really love it here. It is small with only a population of approximately 14,000. The best thing about Streator is that I can drive down the road and see small children having lemonade stands on their sidewalks and no one is freaking out about whether they will be kidnapped or robbed. Small town America is glorious.
It will not take you long to see what my stance is on political issues. I am a self-professed politico. So be it.
I also have a mental illness. I have schizoaffective disorder and borderline personality disorder. I am in therapy and doing great. I would definitely consider myself stable.
I have fabulous supportive parents. My mother and stepfather live in South Dakota and my father and stepmother live in Texas. I have siblings all over the country. My family loves me and supports me in all my doings and goings. Blessed Be indeed!
Finally, I am Pagan. A solitary practitioner that is relatively new to the craft. I am learning day by day and I write about that as well.
I am a knowledge-driven person and I will not change that for anyone. It is who I am and what I am. Take me or leave me, your choice.
My favorite quote, "I tried seeing your point of view but I couldn't get my head that far up my ass."
Letters to My Self *suicide, trigger* 6/29/07
Forgive me, if you will, my familiarity. I have known you for your whole life, although--like one in the deepest of comas-- you have consistently failed to recognize me. I am skin of your skin, blood of your blood, your breath, your everything. And you are mine.
You say you are endeavoring to fit your life together like a puzzle. Yet the puzzle has no pieces and nothing can be glued together. Stop that.
Here is something for you that you can do. Throw out those old puzzle boxes. Your life is an intricate weaving together of diverse elements into patterns. Patterns that defy the status quo. You are you.
You are not your labels, problems, disabilities. You are you and only you. There is no path for you to be on. You are a trailblazer who has been growing new legs. Get up now and walk on those legs, receiving the strength that is yours and yours alone. Then go out and share that strength. Only in the interconnection of all life will you ever find happiness.
Love Always,
All That Is
Dear "All That Is,"
What kind of stupid-ass name is that? I don't much like you. You and your talk about interconnections and weavings and patterns.
I have suicidal thoughts. They are my Plan B. Plan B is persistent and seductive in her constant whisperings. Plan B says,
"You won't find any jobs. Look, see there are no state jobs waiting for you in the wings. You are
scheduled to language away trying to catch up to the grindstone. There is poverty and degradation .
I'm a secret Plan B. You mustn't tell. Anyone."
You try living with Plan B, always there in the background with her twirly sheer skirts and flirty ways. It's not easy to be me and I may die. Still, it is a lot better than being you. You pompous assinine zipperhead. And by the way, I am no one's "heartlove."
In Total Apathy,
spike
Dear Heartlove,
"I always have options. I just don't always know what they are." Didn't you used to say that?
Love,
All That Is
Dear Pompous One,
Bugger off.
spike
Dear Plan B,
You are not a real Plan B. I name you Imposter. You are a collection of lies and old tapes. I repudiate you.
I may not know where I am going. I do know that I will make it through this.
You can bugger off too, along with that "All There Is" Pompous Asshole.
Basta,
spike
Friday, 29 June 2007
What to do when you can't sleep...and other juicy bits of TMI
So, it's 5am now...I've been semi-lucid, non-semi-comatose since about 4am because my son decided he wanted to get up and come to my bed. No, I don't think so. I had the light on, because I fell asleep with it on and it's the kind he hasn't figured out how to turn off, so he laid there next to me constantly bugging me to turn it off so we could go back to sleep. Nope, no can do. Then, he made the mistake of wiggling his toes near my leg. Completely innocent motion, but at certain times I cannot stand to be touched lightly, I have no clue what it is, but if anyone touches me in a soft or light manner, the werebitch in me speaks up. Well, she did this time and my poor son slunk out of the room half crying croc tears, because I had growled at him and told him to get out out out!
And now I'm wide awake and can't get back to sleep. What to do, what to do? I don't know...play with myself? Nope, not that much fun, would rather have my honey to play with. I could come down here to the computer and look up porn...no...that's more some kind of twisted self-torture I think, especially when you're home alone. Ah ha! I got it! Blog! And so I can bitch and moan to all my readers!! What? There's like 2 of you out there? *silence...cricket chirp...coyote howl...silence* Yeah, okay. Whatever.
I'd play with the other nocturnal beings of the house, my ratties, but they're kinda pissy with me because they've had to subsist on cockatiel food and meow mix for the last 3 days because I ran out of guinea pig food (they eat the same food as Fred the Pig...makes things easier as far as I'm concerned). But, they'll be happy with me by days end, I get my money in and I will get more rattie/pig food for them. I'm wondering if I should do anything about my ailing hairless rattie named Iggy. She's an old girl and all, I just don't know how old...that's the draw back of adopting ratties off FreeCycle. But my honey agrees with me that she's come to her last days because she's been off-balance, fragile looking and kinda lethargic. Last night she fell out of her hammock and just shaking a bit of shavings off her back knocked her over. It saddens me to see her like this, but I don't know what else to do except check on her frequently, keep my son from brothering her, and offer her food and water when needed.
All my noctural beings of the pet rattie nature include 3 black hooded fancy rats, 2 hairless rats (one with dumbo ears), 1 gray hooded dumbo eared rat w/ a waddley rearend, and one seal-point siamese rat. And you thought there were only siamese cats! LOL Their names are as follows, following the same order I just listed them... Velveeta, Shells and Cheese (PetCo $5 rat, and mirror-twins from a friends litter), Iggy and Ziggy (mother and daughter), Sweat Pea aka Cheddar, and Clover. Second only to Iggy, Clover is the oldest so I often times call her "Grandma Clover." I was told Clover was almost 2 years old, if not already 2. But Clover seems to be fairing a lot better than Iggy. Clover seems to be the only one that can harmoniously live with the Ratophile (Velveeta...I think it's a dominance thing, but she rapes the twins whenever they're in the same cage...so Velveeta and Clover have their own cage now).
The not so nocturnal beings of the house include Maurice the orange tabby cat of the missing front toes, RatBird and Spaz the lovebirds, and Fred the Pig...aka Mr. Pig whom lives with Iggy, Ziggy and Sweat Pea....and they said to never house guinea pigs with rats!! Of course I'm not the one that put them together, their previous owner did.
Well, I believe I've come to that point that I need to start another blog entry because this one has gotten far too long.
Namaste and mitakuye oyasin.
PS..."Sweat Pea"???"SWEAT Pea"???? WTF was I thinking?!?! Ugh. It's too early. I'm not of the Morning People Race...I MEANT "Sweet Pea" that's Cheddar's nickname because she's just so damned adorable and she's become my favorite.
--
Also posted By Ms. Issues to Ms. Issues In Love at 6/29/2007 04:56:00 AM
Autism, TBI and Benoit
If anyone knows me, they know that autism is a huge part of my life. My life essentially revolves around autism. My son has autism. Traumatic Brain Injury has also entered into my life, not myself or my son personally, but a few friends are effected by it. So, I've learned quite a bit about TBI.
So what's that got to do with the recently deceased WWE wreslter, Chris Benoit? As things unfold and new information is discovered, myself and everyone else that's following the story have found that the 7-year-old son of Chris and his wife Nancy had Fragile X syndrome which, especially in boys, is accompanied by autism. Some are speculating that little Daniel's disability is the reason his father killed him. That still doesn't explain why Chris also killed his wife, Nancy, and 2 days after initially killing Nancy, hung himself by a cable on his exercise equipment. It doesn't explain why he killed Nancy first. It doesn't even explain why he lived in their residence after initially killing his wife the first day, killing his son the next, and on the final day killing himself.
Today I got a little curious with the press about his Wikipedia site being altered to reflect the death of his wife some 14 hours before the police even discovered the bodies. So, like a rubbernecker passing a car wreck, I had to look at the Wikipedia site for Chris Benoit.
In addition to speculation that steroids and/or difficulties arising from the stress of dealing with their son's disability, an alternative motive has been proposed by another former wrestler, Christopher Nowinski. Mr. Nowinski has suggested that it is possible that Benoit was driven to commit the murders because of a TBI!!
I can believe the steroid induced motive, but saying that he did it because he son was disabled or because he had brain trauma, is just a cop-out if you ask me. Yes, raising an autistic and/or mentally retarded child is stressful, demanding, rough, etc etc...but I'd never kill my son! And I believe if anyone tries to pass this off as a mercy killing, they need their head checked because there are SO many ways to get help and to help a child grow and live with their disability. Now, for the TBI motive...I can't say what could have been going through his head, but of the people that I know with TBI's, I don't think any of them could or would do what Benoit did.
In closing, I just cannot wrap my brain around why, or what the hell was going through his mind, he took almost 3 days to kill himself and his small family. What the hell was going through that man's mind when he killed his wife, then left her body where it was later found, and spent another day and a half living in the home. And one of those days with his son still alive. Was he at any point during that time lucid enough to realize what he had done, what he was doing was just plain wrong?! Who knows, but like the rest of the people following this story, I will stay tuned and see what unfolds.
What was the point of this blog? There was none.
Thursday, 28 June 2007
Denied by the people, for the people
The message was about a lady that he works with and she is an older lady, well she had just found out she has a Tumor which she doesn't have insurance, and the hospital has refused to even touch her. They basically told her its a 120lb tumor, and she doesn't even know if its cancer or not. WTF??
My brother is very pissed off, and going on about all the other people in the world in 3rd world countries we are always helping, and we cannot help our own...(I let him vent) He normally is the guy, to make peace...(i could honestly see him in the peace core..just to give you an idea) He has breaking points...and I believe this is one of them..At the same time I am talking to him I am getting a text message from my sister, which is telling me that (remember she is in CO) telling me if she was illegal..she can get in by going to the flea market to get id. I am reading this message as I am listening to my brother who keeps repeating the words..."It doesn't make any fucking sense..I thought the hospital could not refuse you?"
I told him if there is anything thing I could do let me know, but to get her to the state to let them know she was denied health care, and my brother states that is going to takes months, and she may not have months..I told him to at least try, and get the word out there...there are some good people out there..I just cannot believe that this is what its coming to. I know its happening all the time...I guess that it hits hard when it affect the one you love.
I am really in a foul mood now, and it really pisses me off!!! Don't think for one minute it cannot happen to you. This is the world we are living in today, and I want all of you to know if anything were to happen to any of you..I would fight till my fingers bleed..and till I had a voice no more..that is the person I am..all you have to do is ask...I will do what I can. So with that in mind I decided I needed to write to the only elected government offical that has contacted me and this is the letter I wrote:
Dear Mr.Camp,
I would first like to thank you for responding to my letters that I have wrote. You are the only person in office from Michigan that has ever responded to me. I would like to talk again about the immigration debate that is going on, as I know you are against any immigration bill that is put forth to your desk, I would like to talk to you a bit about some of this bill that really doesn't make sense to me.Senate agreed to Gregg Amdt. No. 4114; to amend title II of the Immigration and Nationality Act to reform the diversity visa program and create a program that awards visas to aliens with an advanced degree in science, mathematics, technology, or engineering? There are some great schools out here in Michigan, but I fail to read anything about those schools, instead I am reading about our children that are struggling to even have a school, but yet we are going to award visas to aliens? What about our children? What are they going to get? With more and more lost jobs, I fail to see where this Amendment is going? This is just one of many Amendments that I am reading from this new bill. With all the Amendments that I really don't understand how we as Americans are becoming the 2nd class America.I know where you stand, and I am very grateful for your stance on this issue. I have yet to hear from Senator Stabenow, or Mr. Levin. With more and more people I know without health insurance living in America that are Americans getting denied health care with life threading illness that have worked all their life, and people from across the border getting health care. I am at a lost for words when it comes to this subject anymore. I am very disappointed in how our government is turning it's back on the American people time and time again, and honestly children of this country which would be our future. I am just a voice, and I share with all of you, the only difference is you listen.
Thank you for your time,
It Takes One To Know One...Then You Understand
Truth can be hidden behind a shroud of lies and deception, but the truth can never be forgotten, nor destroyed. Truth seeks to be sought and thirsts to be known. In the end, truth comes out. Even with having been bound and blinded by lies and deception, she still knew them to be lies and deception. How else would a 5 year old know that she was not really wanted, know that she was always treated differently, sometimes worse than her half-siblings...how could a 5 year old know beyond all doubt that she was a constant living reminder that her father had left them? But she knew.
They can deny the truth all they want, being the dysfunctional monsters in denial they are...but their actions, past and present, speak much louder than their words. And sometimes their actions matched their words. Spoken and unspoken, she knew she was and would never be good enough for them. They would tell her she's smart, intelligent, but they'd treat her like a mentally retarded child and talk about her amongst themselves in what they thought was "code" but she knew, she knew who "she" was, and I know who she is...because "she" is me.
The words that spilled from their lips...
They said she was wonderful.
They said she was great.
They said she was intelligent.
They said she was beautiful.
But what they really said was...
She was never good enough.
She was too lazy.
She was too stupid.
She was too fat.
She was too ugly.
But now, she knows the truth. She knows she's better than them. She knows she's intelligent. She knows she's wonderful. She knows she needs to improve her health and weight, but that's okay. She knows she's not ugly. She knows that despite all the shitty things they've done to her, she's a great mother. She knows that her mother did the best she could. She knows all she needs is her son and her fiance that adore her.
Nothing else matters.
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
The End of America - Volume 1
June 26th a great travesty was committed to the citizens of the United States of America. The senate has voted to make the next 30 hours filibuster proof so that they can discuss and then vote on Illegal Immigration reform. No matter what you hear the bill is amnesty for anyone that was in this country illegally before January 1st of this year and will give an immediate Visa to anyone that comes forward with the promise of the Federal Government to do a 24 hour background check on them. This like everything else in the bill is a lie to you, and a gimme to the people that have never respected the laws of America simply by trespassing.
At this very moment it takes over 3 months for documented citizens of the United States to get a Passport under the best of circumstances, and worse then that most people it takes longer because they don’t have the people to do it. It takes over a year for retired CIA agents to get gun licenses because of the background check when they were official government officers with guns before that, and for the lies they have told us, they can’t find these people now. When they say that in 24 hours they can background check someone who has already spent years hiding their identity it is an out and out lie. They are lying to all of us, just like they lied about the wall that they ARE NOT going to put up, and just like in 1986 when most of the same senators who wrote this bill told us that they were going to stop illegal immigration and that AMNESTY would never happen again.
The American people are all saying the same thing, Secure the borders NOW and then come and talk to us about the rest, and they are NOT going to do that because they NEVER want the borders secure. They just want you to become a minority in your own country so that America will just become part of the larger American Union where the dictators of Mexico will have as much power over you as anyone that you elect.
If you look on these lists you will find a few similarities between the people voting for this bill and the people who voted for campaign finance reform. It’s a very telling comparison that the same people who want talk radio closed, and think that I should only be allowed to spend 2000$ to get them unelected, now don’t seem to care that over 80% of the American people are DEAD SET AGAINST this bill. They are going to do it anyway because the 20,000,000 new uneducated, unskilled people that will keep everyone on the lower end in this country impoverished {by making sure that minimum wage is the ONLY} will simply outnumber the rest of us and our measly 2000$ of free speech!
June 7th 2007
Grouped By Vote Position
YEAs ---45 | ||
Akaka (D-HI) | Hagel (R-NE) | Menendez (D-NJ) |
NAYs ---50 | ||
Alexander (R-TN) | Crapo (R-ID) | Murkowski (R-AK) |
Not Voting - 4 | ||
Brownback (R-KS) | Enzi (R-WY) |
|
June 26th 2007
Grouped By Vote Position
YEAs ---64 | ||
Akaka (D-HI) | Feingold (D-WI) | Menendez (D-NJ) |
NAYs ---35 | ||
Alexander (R-TN) | Crapo (R-ID) | Roberts (R-KS) |
Not Voting - 1 | ||
Johnson (D-SD) |
|
|
Last but not least, hear me now when I tell you that everyone better start respecting the constitution that the schools have been butchering for ever. The government is out of control and most people sit back and say, “Well my Senator and Representative are ok,” and you all better remember the first two amendments really well. We have the right to free speech, and to peaceably assemble, and we have the right to bear arms against an oppressive and tyrannical government. These things were not written back when we were all worried about Gangstah Rap, and whether we could go out hunting ducks. They were written during a time when the government would shut you down for speaking what they didn’t want others to hear, and there was a war for freedom from that going on. Looks like they aren’t listening anymore to me, and they are going to replace us all quicker than we can stop them.
If your senator is on that list then I suggest that you call them every day and remind them that you are angry and you are telling everyone that you are angry. I have been doing that to my senator on the top part of the list {Judd Gregg} and I am not alone. His phones have been practically broken because NOBODY likes this and again, they don’t care. Let’s find out Thursday if we stand a chance, but keep in mind it could be too late by the time that election rolls around in a year and a half so make damn sure they know you are VERY angry, If your senator is on the second Nay list then at least call their office once and tell them that you want to thank them for representing YOU … JC
Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}
Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy
All writings Copyright © 2007 .. Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest
Net Authority
seem to think they are some god's gift to policing the internet and ridding the net of anyone who posts pr0n, hate, blasphemy toward a singular x-tian god, "offensive" politics, and/or bestiality*.
*Note Well: Bestiality includes inter-racial relationships between human beasts.*
All of this might be funny 'cept they are serious.
This link: http://www.netauthority.org/aup.html
will take you to their "Internet Acceptable Use Policy."
Clearly, since I am in violation by posting "offensive" politics and by not cottoning to their singular x-tian god, I am under ?obligation? to identify myself as an offender by including one of their nifty little badges near said offending posts.
So be it.
Friday, 22 June 2007
God Bless The Rest Of Us - Volume 5
Let me try to explain to anyone reading this how governmental emotional hostage taking occurs, since we have had to deal with a 24/7 news cycle dedicated to the three soldiers that were taken hostage in Iraq, and to date only one body was found. Of the other two soldiers that were taken causing the news media to use it as a constant reminder that war is bad, one Army Spc. Alex Jimenez was from about 30 minutes away from me in a small Massachusetts city known as Lawrence. Lawrence might actually stick out in your mind because it is the “Car Theft” capitol of the world and has been talked about on 60 minutes and many other news shows, so the name often rings a bell. Unfortunately we found out this week that his wife Yaderlin Hiraldo is an illegal alien from the Dominican Republic.
Here’s where it gets a bit vexing to me since I like to think with my own mind and not the news collective {We are News … You will be assimilated} on issues that tug on the conservative heart strings because it is usually a set up. I heard the talk show host this morning on the radio talking about what a tragedy that it is that she has had to go into hiding because INS is looking for her {which we are getting hourly updates on it … kill me please} and finally the great war hero himself John Forbes Kerry has decided to write a letter to INS personally telling them to leave her alone. I’ll leave that for now and tell you all personally that the second I heard about all of this my mind immediately started deciphering it like a bullshit detector that is fed up with the media in general. Unfortunately it also includes the talking heads that used to give me comfort throughout the day too.
Let me start by being a wise ass and see if you can catch on to my thought process, but when I first heard all of this my mind said the next few lines. “You mean to tell me that in a country with around 20 million illegal aliens, Michael Chertoff has finally found one and it just happens to be the wife of a missing soldier over in Iraq?” That first bit wasn’t even really that tongue in cheek as the Bush administration has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that being an illegal alien in this country means that you are safe from just about everything. I then followed it up by thinking, “In a city that at least one third of the population are illegal aliens?” which for the record has an awful lot to do with the lawlessness that grips the “Car theft capitol of the world” after all, and then finally, “Now John Kerry is coming to her rescue?” Which coincidentally doesn’t mean a pile of crap because he wants ALL illegal aliens given legal status, so this is merely his way of saying “1 down 19,999,999 to go!” What a real shocker!
This whole thing was nothing more than a total ploy from your friends in the White House, in coordination with your friends in Congress trying to twist our arms behind our backs to get us to start reevaluating the whole “Undocumented Worker Debate” that is dominating Washington right now. For those of you that agree with me that it is a bad thing to even be talking about it without secure borders, let me just run off the newest facts on the whole thing. First and foremost as of last week the Presidents approval numbers were 25% of the American people. That’s hardly a mandate to even be allowed to choose your own meal from the big kids menu at Denny’s but for those of you laughing about GW the official numbers for the DEMOCRATIC controlled Congress are 11%. Can I just say that I never thought that the country’s approval of government in general could ever be hovering around 10% and then throw out these numbers. On the “Illegal Alien Amnesty” plan that they are going to pass no matter what we think, the numbers are George W Bush 9% approval and for those Democrats snickering, the Congress is at 3% {and no that is not a typo … 3 … Three … THREE!} and again I remind you that they are going to do it with a 97% disapproval rating.
Here’s the problem as you start to see news stories like this come along that are made to force sympathy out of you for illegal aliens, and that would be the slim majority of the United States Congress that are holding on by a thread to keep this from going through. Despite the whole demonization of the idiot Republicans that have been in Washington far too long and know who really pays their salaries {John McCain, Trent Lott and some other Bozo’s that it should have been no surprise what they think of your free speech anyway before now} it has been a majority of the Republicans, and the Blue Dog Democrats that ran Conservative campaigns against big government republicans in the last election that have towed the line to block the whole thing. You better be scared though because stories like the one that is being rammed down our throats out here DO sway people who are simple minded in their thinking and that will probably raise that 3% approval rating to maybe even over 5% and in Washington they seem to think that is a majority.
There is nothing good that will come out of allowing 20 million law breakers from the moment they arrived here simply become legal, period! There is no excuse for any of them to be allowed to stay, but there is even LESS of an opportunity to argue these points with any rational American while the liars in Washington are allowed to dictate the terms. We did this in the 60’s with promises that the flood of illegal immigration would stop, thus allowing 2 million of them to stay. We did it again in the 80’s with the promises that the flood of them would stop, thus allowing 6 million to stay, and now we are looking at 20 million of them drooling over what we have, and not even willing to assimilate into our society. They won’t speak English, they won’t respect our laws, they won’t stop sucking at the public nipple, and Washington won’t even stop them from still flooding in. They won’t even really promise to stop it this time and Edward Kennedy is the writer of this bill as he was the last two. If you don’t succeed the first time keep trying, some would say but the problem with anyone that still believes him is that HE DID SUCCEED in what he wanted to do, and he thinks he is going to again.
Now the serious news that is going on in the near future for those of you that don’t follow these things is that the President of the United States, The Prime Minister of Canada, and the President of Mexico are all sitting down again real soon here in Quebec to hammer out the American Union talks that they have been working on all along. Most people don’t take this seriously but it’s coming, and NAFTA and the FTAA were just the beginning. You need to think of it this way because most people don’t think of it at all, but if a Socialist Country {meaning Canada}, a Representative Republic {meaning the USA} and a Corrupt Dictatorship {meaning Mexico} all get together and decide to have no borders whatsoever, who do you think is really going to be in charge of the whole thing? In conclusion I want to thank Army Spc. Alex Jimenez for giving your life to this country, but your wife needs to be deported along with the other 19,999,999 illegal aliens in this country and when they come back to suck at the public nipple I hope they are met with a wall, armed soldiers and perhaps a shallow grave if that isn’t a big enough hint to stay out. This crap isn’t funny anymore and I am willing to be the bad person to say “No Mas” ;8o)
Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}
Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy
All writings Copyright © 2007 .. Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest
Thursday, 21 June 2007
The truth behind Elder's in Witchcraft
Now in some Traditions and Elder is a person is seen by their peers has a person, man or woman who is seen fit to teach. The diffeance here is it is a Tradition, or Coven deciding if one is an Elder.
An Elder may also have a role in helping running a clan, Coven, or Grove. Groves are a Druid Tradition, but some Druid Trads, have Elders also.
In all Elders are seen as teachers, and leaders. Solo Witches Decide when they are ready to be Elders. Coveners have a different way of doing things. Both ways are right. Just wanted to clear some things up. Blessed be, Elder RavenFire
Elder RavenFire is beyond mad
My next beyond mad rant is the 5 trillion dollors spent by our goverment on this stupid war. When Bush took office we had a 2 trillion dollor surplus. And now we have a 3 trillion dollor defecet. He spent 5 trillion dollors!!! 5 TRILLION DOLLORS!!!!! How do you spend that much money, in what, 6 years?!?! A stupid war. A pointless war. Bush is the worst thing to EVER, and I mean EVER happen to this country, and infact, to the world. And yes I'm even saying he's worse then disco. But to feed his thirst for blood by spending 5 trillion dollors on killing people. How dare he waste our hard earned money on killing people. That money could have went to health care. Canada, Canada even has better health care then we do. Hell Mexico by now has to have better health care then we do. Medicare, Medical Assistance, (MA) none of that means shit. Most people can't get MA. IF you make one dollor over the limit, they won't cover you. ONE F*&%ing DOLLOR!!!! ONE!!!!!
Now let's look at Bush. Let's look at what that asshole has done to the world. He has cuased more hate, and fear. He has done a lot more to farther the hatered for America. And to make things to beat all hell worse, this all could have been prevented. He knew about 9/11. And he knew about most of the other terrist attacks. Our goverment has known for years, and yes even through the Clinton years about Osama. And Clinton did a damn good job at keeping the peace.
So I leave you hoping you have felt some of my agervation twards our goverment. I love what this country used to stand for. And I hope that one day we can return to that one day. This is one Witch who has stayed silent too long.
Elder RavenFire
A Murder Of Crows - Volume 10
Well I figure it’s about time that I thank the New York Times for a change, and I realize that just my saying that probably has many people afraid but realistically it isn’t very often when they actually do break some news and not make news they want you the loyal citizen to be indoctrinated into. Don’t get me wrong, it was all an accident and they are going to have to start back pedaling when people like me start pointing out how one of their more recent “dumb ass” 24/7 news reverberations might actually explain something that I have been trying to tell everyone for years. Of course I am talking about the pet food scare that became the front page of the New York Times for what seemed like 75 years and just went to show where their priorities really are, but also reminds me to point out to you how this has to do with filling up your gas tank.
This is actually a big issue now whether anyone knows it or not since the Iowa Caucus is fast approaching, and all of the candidates for president have to run out to Iowa and start promising your money to all of the people in Iowa. Anyone who thinks that New Hampshire shouldn’t have the first primary really should be paying greater attention to Iowa because their first actual electoral votes are a lot more important than New Hampshire’s and now it also requires you to promise third world nation status for the United States every time that you go there too. John McCain to his credit refused to even run in Iowa the last time and is threatening to do the same thing this time around, and despite my lack of support for him this happens to be one of those times that he does look like a genius. He has always apposed “Ethanol Subsidies” and the last time he stumped in Iowa he told them that strait up, and you can’t win Iowa unless you are totally on board with that destructive practice.
A lot of people don’t truly understand how Ethanol subsidies work, but it basically works like this. If you grow corn the government will give you money to have it turned into Ethanol and then that Ethanol will be turned into a gasoline additive and in a lot of cases a gasoline replacement. Despite the fact that it isn’t oil it is far more environmentally destructive, if you buy that line of crap for many reasons. First off it makes the gasoline that you have mixed with it less fuel efficient, thus requiring more of it to get from point A to point B, thus pumping more of that awful carbon dioxide {like when a cow farts or you open a can of soda} that is killing us all. Second it requires massive amounts of water to create thus depleting the reserves of water in the areas that it is being refined. Third it cannot be transported any other way other than big diesel burping trucks {unlike oil and gasoline that the bulk of is moved through pipelines} that also raises carbon emissions, and none of this is even the reason I am writing this so strap on your boredom goggles.
Now with the subsidies for corn being funded by you, the tax payer, there is more demand for the corn that goes into the ethanol, and in turn less corn for your kitchen table, that probably is a given to most people and rarely thought of anyway, but corn is more than the veggie of choice for those that hate spinach. Corn happens to be what feeds the chickens that make the eggs at the supermarket {looked at those prices lately} and the cows that put the milk in the bottles right next to them {at more than a gallon of gas last I looked} and quite frankly feed most of the animals that we eat. Score one for the PETA people I assume as those prices have very slowly been rising without much attention. This is only half of the issue though as now the guy who used to grow the soybeans for your extra fat free tofu shake has stopped growing soy because corn is the way to go. As a matter of fact all other agriculture has declined at an alarming rate as more and more farms are converting to corn and things like wheat are declining by almost 30 percent.
The big lie though is that we can ever sustain this way at all because if the entire state of Texas {which is a BIG place} was turned into one big corn field it would only produce enough corn to replace 10 percent of all gasoline used in this country. Ethanol is NOT fuel efficient in any way shape or form, and simply throwing money into it at the tax payer’s expense only does what government always does when it gets it nose stuck in business. It stifles any ideas that might actually help the situation. For anyone out there that might have that “Well at least it is a start” attitude I happen to have this simple little question for them, as the price of food is going up and our capacity to actually make it is diminishing, “Would you rather import your oil or import your food?” Please don’t jump to any conclusions on this one either because that is how we treat everything in this day and age, and to the detriment of society as a whole. Ask an Australian how they feel about large portions of their food being imported. You will hear some pretty amazing stories about rotten food, outrageous prices, and a country that is reeling to be able to solve the ills of not being able to break the supermarket monopolies that plague them. It’s the end results of socialist ideals that makes most of the one’s that I talk to joke about their own impending third world nation status.
This is where the New York Times comes in and I give them kudos for accidentally shedding some light on all of this {because the sun has to shine on a dogs ass someday} when they were ramming all of the “Fluffy got sick on poison cat food” malarkey down our throats, because that was the first wave of what is coming up really soon. All of the cat and dog food that was killing pets all across the country was using imported food that ended up being poisoned. It’s easy to simply sell tainted food when it is leaving your borders anyway. What is anyone standing at the vet with a dead cat going to do against the communist government of China when they find out that the food they sold them was poisoned? Oh yeah they will go cry at the door of Wal-Mart because for the most part they are too stupid to see the big picture in it all, and that is how our society is anyway. Just like crying to Exxon because they charge 3 dollars for a gallon of something that they had to extract from a battle zone bring it across the world, run it through a billion dollar refinery and then ship it {as amazingly dangerous as it is under pressure} to a place where you can pump it into your car. Ok fine, then ask yourself this then, “Who are you going to cry to when your 10 dollar head of lettuce kills your child?” I’m sure we’ll find someone to blame because it wasn’t anything we did or ignored ;8o)
Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}
Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy
All writings Copyright © 2007 .. Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest
Wednesday, 20 June 2007
Chebeague Island Days 1 through 8
mother in her car with her two cats, assorted houseplants, and suitcases. Plus she had committed him to stop
along the way for some paint. Nick can be irritable under the best of circumstances and these particular
circumstances were far from the best.
Blondie and I arrived in downtown Bennington, an area she recognized because she has doggie friends who live there.
The two of us have spent many pleasant hours there at Ellie and Al's. The dog was wanting to see her doggie friends
so we did indeed stop. She frolicked with her three beagle buddies while Al and I commiserated over coffee. The
coffee there is the best ever.
Refreshed, one hour later I was back on the road cutting over the mountains to get to Brattleboro. At Brattleboro
or thereabouts I got a bit mixed up and so began the detour of several hours through parts of New Hampshire
heretofore unknown. The scenery was very pretty. We passed through many a small town and vistas and even some
Flying Green railroad cars. New Hampshire is full of lakes and there was much about Central New Hampshire to be
loved, if only we weren't on a grand detour! The dog is apparently better at remembering how to get to places
than I am. She began to panic, pawing my right shoulder frantically as we got deeper into the Lakes region. A
short jaunt through some woods by a rest area and some water from a McDonalds made her more comfortable but not
any less prone to panic. I tried to reassure her but alas, she was not to be fooled.
We picked up the correct route again in Sanford Maine and Blondie calmed down. I was pretty damn tired and a bit
pissed off that I had allowed myself to be put into this position in the first place. Mother-in-law thought there
was not enough room in her car for me. ["Well fine, I don't like you much either," I had told Alice when relating
the story of how I came to have to drive myself to Maine oh woe is me.] Otherwise the dog would have stayed home
with our two cats and I wouldn't have had to drive alone.
We did arrive in the parking lot and loaded ourselves onto the bus with the help of the bus driver. MY four bags
were rather heavy and I couldn't manage myself safely. On the bus, the dog was excited and on the boat as well. We
arrived at the dock to discover that the taxi cab now quit at 3 p.m. and it was 4:30ish or so. A woman from the
boat and her husband agreed to drop off the luggage. Nick had walked up to meet us and I chewed him out all the way
back to the cottage. I was that angry.
Dinner was chicken. Time spent after dinner walking the dog and doing ani on the puter before bed.
Sunday found us under sunny skies. Husband and I took the dog over to Hamilton beach. She met a scottie named Gypsy.
They were ideally suited as playmates, having similar styles. Both made play growls and ran after each other with
abandon. Gypsy's owner, Ellen, was astonished at that but I wasn't. The two dogs ran up and down the beach with
occasional forays into the ocean. I found a waterlogged piece of driftwood. It looks like the Y of a tree and
husband carried it back up the cottage, grumbling. A second find-- a slender long twig-- came back with me.
Scallops for dinner with spaghetti, very tasty. The rest of the day, doggie got a couple of walks and again time
spent doing ani and some reading. After dinner, an old friend-- after a fashion-- of husband's family stopped by to
chat. "So you are done feeling sorry for yourself," she said to me after I revealed some hard-won plans, "and you
are going back to work." I looked at her, a bit taken back by the words she had uttered. She stopped herself,
backtracked. It was too late. She is going home tomorrow. That is just as well. I understand what it is I
struggle against on a daily basis. Others do not have to. Still I do get fed up with those who cannot or will not
acknowledge what I have been stuck with.
Husband had a headache that afternoon and one again in the middle of the night. That was frightening to me as he had
run out of his blood pressure medication and I remember that commercial on the teevee. The one that went something
like: You are at the ball game. A homerun....but wait. You're not there. You're dead. You didn't take your
blood pressure medicine. I resolved that Monday we would do something about that lack.
Monday:
Another sunny day. With some nagging from me, husband called the doctor's office back home and arranged for a script
for a seven day supply of his blood pressure medication to be faxed to a drugstore on the mainland. While waiting,
I took Blondie out to the wharf. She was determined to sniff the lobster traps, the lobster boats, and the three
lobstermen. They were young muscular fellows with a penchant for drinking and true down east accents. Tanned and
wearing faded teeshirts and sea-kissed work pants, they moved from dock to boat with a familiarity that few possess.
"Not everyone wants to meet you," I explained in vain to the dog. Blondie knows that I am wrong. The world is her
oyster and she is the pearl.
We went for the medication on the 11:30 boat. [Doggie watched us leave from the window and then went upstairs to
sulk, we were informed later on]. Nick was delighted to discover that a seven day supply of his pills had cost
twenty three dollars for the whole lot rather than the thirty dollars a dose that he had feared. A stop at the local
independent bookstore, lunch at a pizza joint, the Goodwill, Shaw's [supermarket], and Henderson's Lumber for
shelving rounded out our trip. Back on the 3:30. More walking of dog and reading ensued. Chicken for dinner.
I swear I'm going to grow pin feathers.
Tuesday:
Mornings start out cool here on the island. Casco Bay-- which we all loosely refer to as the ocean-- can be seen
from the porch in all of its' deep blueness. Little islands dot the seascape and there are boats. Hamilton Beach
along the westward gets rockier while further north gets sandier each year. A recent storm resulted in much erosion
and uprooted trees.
I know that by noon, the air will have warmed up. I am sitting in the living room awaiting the freighting of the
car-- mother-in-law's. I can walk to the library where there is internet access. I have no Kismet, no G.P.S. unit.
Just a laptop with Snood, The GIMP, and several browsers rendered temporarily useless by a lack of connection. The
car does make it easier to get around though. A trip to the Hook is in the offing sometime this week.
The house next door is empty. The missus of the house had jumped out of a window down south where the family lives
the other three seasons. It has been rumoured that Nick's oldest sister is negotiating for the house. Remains to
be seen if her offer is accepted. Suicide is painful. For those who do it and for those left behind. I wonder
how that family is making out. Are they also selling their home down south? What must it be like to walk upstairs
and see that window and think, "My wife/my mother jumped out of that window onto her death." Who could stand that?
In the nursing home where I used to work [until we weren't allowed to with the advent of the Furniture Moving
Committee] we always rearranged the rooms when a patient died. And opened the window "to let the spirit out." But
how does one rearrange a window in a home? Does one barricade it and hang a picture over the opening? I don't
really know. Death comes to us all, even to those of us who wish to deny its' essence by claiming reincarnations
or absurd spiritual presences.
Husband is painting the boards that he bought yesterday at Henderson's. He and his sisters are engaged in the fine
art of collections. Husband collects books. One sister collects art and the other shells. Their mother is engaged
in the art of throwing out anything she herself doesn't see a use for. She had been planning to throw out some of
the paperbacks in the bedroom husband and I use-- thus his sudden interest in building shelves. "Paperbacks take
up about 5 inches from the wall," he tells me. I nod. This building of shelves is serious stuff. Their mother had
thrown out old brittle Boy's Life magazines, almost new bicycles, a paint set. I thought she had thrown out my
dog's orange fluff toy til I found it wrapped up in a homemade pink quilt.
The dog is content to be lazy today and I have to encourage her to come for a walk. She rolls in the grass and then
falls into a muddy ditch along side the dirt road with the encrusted stones. I sigh. We meander up to the now
deserted hotel [the last owner tried to modernize it and went bankrupt] and turn right down another rugged dirt lane
toward the ocean. The mud up the left side of the doggie does not seem to bother her in the least. It is only me
and my insistence upon order and my obsessive fascination with patterns that drive us both towards the ocean.
Down some steps and we reach a rocky part of Hamilton Beach, further on than where husband's cousins have their
summer cottage. I stumble on rocks and Blondie races along the open sand. I walk into the ocean, hoping to
encourage her to be clensed by the saltiness of the Other Mother. But Blondie is having none of that. She is very
much her own dog. She continues her exploration of the sand, advancing to the water's edge once in a great moment
in order to ensure that her human will not be swept away by the menancing ripply waves of high tide.
The waves are scarcely that, nothing anyone can even body surf on. I sit then in the ocean in quiet solitude,
letting the water embrace me. Bay, ocean-- artificial divisions. Mother ocean does not know them. The dotted
islands in my vision lure me to parts unknown. I can feel the pull, the wanderlust never satisfied even after
twenty days of traveling to places I had never been before. I hear Jimmy Buffett singing, "Mother Mother Ocean..."
The water swirls wooly gray with flecks of olive. Golden specks dance around me along with bits of brown seaweed
and red algae. White shells are drawn up to the beach in the action of a thousand waves. Blondie decides to run
at the waves in front of me, still not daring to leave the sandy bottom. She can swim. She cares not to. She
desires to run, to splash, frolic; not to let go of the firmness of the earth supporting her. She is a child of the
earth and I am a child of the northern seas.
Years have past and there was another ocean, or more of the same. That ocean was warmer-- but only a bit. Had more
seaweed, greener. Waves crashed on the rocks. There were jetties to explore and fishermen and huge jellyfish and
trucks that came to clean the sand in the mornings. There were more people, more noise, more sun. No dogs on that
beach except for the lucky few whose owners were perverse enough to sneak them on at night. We walked the beaches
from Lavallette into Seaside Heights, panhandled on the boardwalk, got stoned in the marshes, smoked cherry cigars
in our newly found adolescent vulgarity, almost got arrested once walking along the water's edge in Asbury Park. We
didn't think of ourselves as rebelling against authority figures and wouldn't have used the word "iconoclast" if we
had known it. We were hippies born too late, too young to attend Woodstock but old enough to understand the body
counts published daily on the radio from Nam. My mother gave me "The Pentagon Papers" to read one summer on the
beach but confiscated my beloved copy of "Go Ask Alice." But "Go Ask Alice" could not save me from my addiction.
Some of us grew up to sell out and some of us became the revolution. Addiction robs people of hopes, dreams, and
radical action. It was my addiction and natural state of inertia that kept me from being.
After a time, the drugs had left my body and a bloody dose of reality was my daily sup. I gagged and choked on it,
not knowing how to come out of apathy into embracing the unknowing and the shadow, not yet understanding how to be
my own human. In that, all of my dogs have been light-years ahead of me. I think about the ocean I had loved in
another place but not about the jagged pain of broken things. Later on, I will think on these things-- not now when
I am in a place that is not a place and a time that is not a time. I am being. I am filled with healing. The dog
runs beyond me in astral space, laughing in purest joy.
But all things must end or at least lurch back into uneasy consciousness. The water is cold, even for me who often
does not feel the cold. Reluctantly, I put on my sandy socks and wet sneakers. We set off back to the cottage, up
the steps of the cousins, through the access path, back to the cottage where mother-in-law's daemon dog is barking
her fool head off at the lawn-mowing crew.
Blondie settles on the rug in the living room and I stripe down for a bath. I wash my clothes by hand, enjoying
the swishing and the bubbles, then hang them to dry with the other hand-washed items. The lawn-mowing crew leaves.
Mother-in-law informs Nick that it is raining. He arranges my clothes on a drying rack upstairs and we depart then
for the library under the cloudy sky.
The sunlight plays on the glass windows of the library, darting in and back out again. Nick is bored. I checked a
bit of e-mail and on Live Journal for "news" of exactly how Barak plans to fix this one. The "news" leaves too
many things unspoken. I shake my head. Back at the cottage, I create more animated icons with The GIMP expressing
my displeasure at the bullshit.
We drive to the clamshack for takeout of cholesterolia. Onion rings and a chicken parm sub for me. Turkey italian
for husband and fried clams for his mum. They help me eat the onion rings. I cannot finish my sandwich. I wrap it
up in shiny foil and stow it carefully in the fridge for tomorrow's breakfast.
After dinner, I finish up one True Crime book I got yesterday at the Goodwill in Falmouth. I ponder the defense,
the girl-woman accused of murder, a tense stand-off and suicided boyfriend. He was a jerk, I decide. And abusive.
It is not enough for the jury to excuse her actions nor enough for me. The seductress-temptress is in prison. The
author says she is thriving in the environment. Safety caught up to her behind bars. Me, I'd rather risk having to
decide, to leave when I must, to stay if I choose. Not have my daily schedule dictated to me and enforced by threat
of write-up tickets. That is no life for me. In my life there are risks. I will take the risks but not the
gambles. I know that gamblers lose before they even sit down at the table. I go where I go and be who I be, with
no apologies to anyone. I am fluid in my solidity. I sigh. The night has settled in and it is almost time for
sleep. Blondie, my beloved child of the earth, awaits her last walk before bedtime and I will not disappoint her.
Wednesday:
Husband woke me up early this morning-- a cloudy damp day which would remain so-- and we left on the 8 o'clock boat,
Blondie once again gazing mournfully out the window at our retreating figures. We got to Portland and parked by
about 9:30 a.m. to discover that the comic books store husband wanted to go to would not be open until 10. We
installed ourselves at a local Starpukes with orange-flavored expresso [his] and my usual hot chocolate with a shot
of coffee plus two pastries which we ate in relative silence. I admired the architecture of the older buildings
surrounding us. We both read the New York Times and a Portland daily left on the lounge chairs.
After the required time spent in the comic store-- himself browsing and me trying hard to figure out what this manga
fuss is all about, we strolled around the old port. We spent some time in an independent toy shop where I paraded
various stuffed puppetry around, assigning them voices and such. Husband asked one clerk if she had seen his inner
child.
I got a cool hanging frog with wings and a mini-Ganesha statuary from a hippie shop. We also browsed a store for
pets. Rather chic it was. Nothing in there that pleased me enough to buy. We walked along the Old Port and at
the noon hour abruptly discovered that Boone's had gone out of business two years ago. After husband declared that
he would not eat at any restaurant that spelled it "chowda," we settled on Gilbert's Chowder House. Gilbert's
Chowder House looks very much like a locals' place. I noted the presence of styrofoam dishes and the reasonable
prices as we sat down to an older style metal and formica table on metal and formica chairs. The coffee [at almost
2 bucks a cup] was well worth it and the crabmeat roll was fully stuffed. Husband attempted not to eat all of his
fries that came with his fried shrimp. He ate them. He liked the chowder, although he had to resign himself to
the presence of bacon in it.
After lunch we stopped at the fancy gourmet cook shop which used to be "The Whippin' Spoon." Same merchandise near
as I can tell, although the prior establishment used to give out free potholders with their name on it. No more.
We stopped at a tourist trap as well where I breezed through the too expensive tee shirts that said "Maine" or stuff
like "Lobstercrombie and Pinch" but were mostly made in China. We headed back for the bus and boat. We had been
rained upon most of the morning. Portland in June on a damp rainy day is about as blah as any other place under
those very circumstances. I am hoping that Saturday will be sunny as that is the day of the Gay Pride Parade and
festivities in Deer Oaks Park, a scene which I may participate in should I feel like doing so.
Back at the cottage, a happy and relieved dog and I went for a walk to the golf course pond and back. Blondie had
indicated a desire to go to the wharf. She likes it there. This evening, I fustrated that wish with one of my own.
Dinner was to be mac and cheese. Proceedings were interrupted by the barking of a small daemon dog [who interrupted
husband's nap], the fire alarm going off because of the smoke pouring from the wood stove [oh I miss the fireplace],
and the arrival of a guest.
This was another old woman who had dropped in unannounced to see mother-in-law. They talked and talked and talked
while the daemon dog continued in fits of barking and husband stewed in the living room because he wanted to get
cooking. It was to be salmon for dinner with the mac and cheese. I eat mac and cheese. I have become increasingly
wary of swimming fish since I came up as allergic to them on allergy testing [but not to shellfish] and they do give
me an instant headache after eating them. Nix the salmon! Mother-in-law was indicating to the old woman guest that
I do not eat fish and she characterized my diet as strange. Husband interjected then, pointing out that I am in
fact allergic to swimming fish and that it gives me headaches. I was a bit peeved at mother-in-law. And happily
surprised that husband actually stood up for me in the face of his mother. I went up for a quick lay down and was
still miffed by her comment after it.
The salmon-- which I wouldn't have eaten-- turned out to not have been let out of the freezer. Thus it was a block
of frozen pinkish ice and it had escaped its' certain fate for one more enchanted evening. Mac and cheese for all
three of us it became. [Old lady friend had departed before dinner was started, as culturally correct].
After dinner, I read a true crime book and settled down to computer and bedtime.
Thursday:
It was cloudy most of the day until suppertime. Mother-in-law left on the 10 o'clock boat and was back about 3 from
her jaunt to town with a friend down the road. Blondie and the daemon dawg from hell had a walk up the road and
then a left at the gold course. Blondie favors the dock but we did not go there. Daemon dawg favors nipping people
who pay attention to her upon meeting but that begs the question I suppose. Husband mortified me by saying he would
want the daemon dawg after mother-in-law's demise. I don't.
At the library, I updated a few of my own blogs with my "Mother, Mother" post and visited a few other blogs, checked
e-mails of several addys, and sent out a short note or two myself. All of this was on my laptop after a nice
young man staying with Henry for the summer showed me how to get onto the open connection. Damnit, Kismet.
Husband made several signs of severe ennui so I reluctantly agreed to leave. After a stop for junk food, we drove
back to the cottage where two delighted dogs awaited our return. I worked on some ani-- I experimented and got some
letters of icons to colorize with the fractal explorer-- and then mother-in-law arrived back in residence.
In spite of a chill in the afternoon air and overcast skies, husband and I took Blondie to Fisherman's Beach. The
access path was clogged with downed trees in one part from a severe storm so we cut through the tall grass of the
widow who had visited with mother-in-law briefly yesterday. The grass was so tall it had gone to seed and also
bent upon our passing through. No smell of meadowsweet today-- must only come when first mowed down I reckon.
Fisherman's Beach has a cove dotted with lobster traps, some small boats ashore, and a field of sea heather not
grown this season yet. There are also rocky ledges to the north and south which one can climp upon if so desired.
Husband was looking for beach glass- specifically green beach glass. I am not as fussy. I will even take an
interesting larger piece for the fish tank. Small rocks too. I like those very much. The sand was damp with the
marking of a tide going out and Blondie ran through the water once just because.
Back at the cottage, I took a before dinner nap and then woke up to meatloaf and potatoes cooked by husband; and
unadorned salad-from-a-bag which I will not eat on general principle. After dinner, more computer time with The
GIMP and perhaps a gander at one of the paperbacks I had bought up at the library for a buck apiece. Or maybe I will
finish the last remaining true crime book I got at the Goodwill yesterday.
Friday:
I woke up this morning after another night of heavy dreaming. The sun was up and promised a warmer day than the last
several. A load of wood had been delivered earlier and husband had already stacked it on the back deck. I was
reluctant to leave the cozy bed to the cooler temperature of the house.
Outside family friend's niece had stopped by. She was from State College, Pennsylvania it turned out. I went there
last year for a convention-- this year I will be missing the convention in Valley Forge [but I got to travel cross-
country!]. A friendly sort of woman who allowed Blondie to show off her tricks.
Husband and I walked to the Main Road and then up the left over and out to near high tide on Hamilton Beach. Along
the way, Blondie met Mattie; and then Trekker and Trekker's companion. Mattison is an irish setter, Trekker a husky-
golden lab mix, and companion a lab.
Back at the cottage, mother-in-law asked husband to chop up some crap for the dump. After sweating obnotiously for
a bit, husband dragged it all and tossed it into the "memorial landfill" of a neighbor just down the road for whom
he holds a resentment dating back to his boyhood. Seems the neighbor made the mistake of welcoming him to the island
once although his family had been there for a decade or so at the time. Resentments-- such stuff composed of rational
fluff!
The resentment branched out to the rest of the family when said neighbor build a fancy house in front of a cousin's
undeveloped land. It is hard to explain but it has something to do with blocking some part of an ocean view of a
cottage that the cousin has yet to even begin developing the blueprints for building at this date. In truth, the
neighbor is not one that I have come to know outside of the lens of said resentment, so I cannot comment on the state
of neighbor's true personality.
Husband sat on the porch for a bit before resuming the command to fill the car with garbage and take it to the dump.
After lunch, a trip to the dump, to a home-shop called "Island Riches," and to the library [for my internet access
requirements] was planned. Mother-in-law and the woman at "Island Riches" chatted a long while. I said hello to
the black poodle in residence who had a long tie-out. Husband stood around and looked bored. Mother-in-law settled
on an old-fashioned doll dressed in a navy blue dress that poofs out. There was one bag of garbage for the dump.
I got dropped off to the library, mother-in-law went back to the cottage, and husband returned to the library where
he got bored after reading his yahell comics. I answered a bit of e-mail. Off to the store-- no sandwich there I
wanted for dinner, then to the Clamshack where I got a Greek salad for dinner and onion rings for pre-dinner.
We were back at the cottage by 3:30. Husband did not wish to go to the sandbar at "The Hook" where one can walk
across to Little Chebeague Island. I took Blondie and the daemon dawg for a walk to Hamilton Beach. The daemon
dawg had never been to the beach but that did not stop her from enjoying herself. I quickly decided to let her
run free. She and Blondie chased each other around the rocks and boulders that dotted the sand, charged into the
low tide water and back out again, chased each other again and again in wide circles. They were having quite the
time. I stood on the sand by the shoreline and watched. The daemon dawg tried various things for taste-- salt
water [yuck], seaweed [nibbles], sand [yuck], mussles [yummy], stick [okay]. Blondie seized a branch turning
driftwood and that started a new game. Blondie would furiously dig a hole in the sand for her fallen limb, the
daemon dawg would approach the stick to gnaw on it, Blondie would drag it away a few feet and dig another hole.
Finally the human [that would be me] decided it was time to go back to the cottage so off we three went up the cousins'
stairs and through their right-o-way back across the dirt road to the cottage.
Dinner was Greek salad for me and salmon for them. After dinner was a bit more time for computer until the meeting.
Husband and I went to a meeting tonight on the island for folks in recovery. It was a nice break and I enjoyed it.
The decaffeinated coffee though; I thought about pouring a shot of whiskey into it. Now I'd never drank whiskey in
coffee before. A stupid passing thought is all. Fantasy is indeed better than the reality many a time.
After the meeting was more computer time and a book before bed. Jer called and we are going to try to meet up
tomorrow in Portland at the Denny's. Husband will not be going-- it's nine bucks roundtrip on the boat [that is
what our tickets work out to now]-- so I will be hoofing it alone if things work out.
Saturday:
A cool but sunny morning on Chebeague started off with pancakes. The blueberries in them were nice and juicy. After
that, husband and I took Blondie and the daemon dawg to The Hook. The tide was halfway in and the sandbar to walk
over to Little Chebeague was partially submerged. Blondie was curious about the constructing going on-- pilings
were in the process of being replaced as witnessed by the presence of two heavy equipment trucks [but the absence
of workers since it is Saturday]. The daemon dawg continued to explore what was edible on the beach [glass-- no,
a tuft of grass surrounded by water-- yes, various shells-- no]. She seemed to recall yesterday's lessons about
sand and salty water. Both dogs ran together and splashed in the shallow tide waters coming in.
The Hook is surrounded by water in three directions so to speak. On one side of the sandbar is water where sand
dollars can be found, the other side is where gulls frequently hang out with their young. At the end of the Hook is
a small house and private property devoted to some club or other and a larger area where boats are moored. One can
see that area from the parking along side the sandy driveway leading down to the Hook but not go there since it is
posted.
I took pictures in all three directions and the digital camera was able to capture the water lapping the sandbar away
as well as Little Chebeague in the distance. This trip we did not walk over to Little Chebeague though we have in
trips in past years. I had walked around all of Little Chebeague once-- a rather tame walk along the easternmost
beach, wild along the south-western third where I saw a group of puffins and one comorant hanging out together, and
ending with beach/rocks along the last third before the sandbar. It was a strenuous walk but well worth the effort.
The interior of Little Chebeague is full of woods, poison ivy, and signs pointing to heaps of lumber which used to
be a hotel, bowling alley, church, and some houses. I've been through the maze of interior trails several times.
Truth be told, besides the poison ivy, it is rather buggy in there. On the main trail leading inward, the Chebeague
Island Historical Society had set up a trailhead with little hand-drawn maps. Someone might should have identified
the poison ivy patches but I suppose that detracts from tourist appeal.
After our jaunt on the Hook, we went to a small yard sale next door to the clam shack. Blondie indicated that she
liked the "Sam I Am" stuffed toy and back at the cottage she laid it next to her "orange baby." The doggie toys we
brought up with her-- the orange baby, three balls, and a large chewy sort of bone all live in the car rather than
the house. Tomorrow when we arrive home, I hope to convince her of the same for the "Sam I Am." She has a laundry
basket full of stuffed animals and things on the back porch: a headless duck, a green bird "baby," a Max stuffed
dolly, a snake, various squeakys. I don't think she needs any more indoor toys. The ones who live in the car do
get used when we go riding-- including a frog that sings when she squeezes its' belly.
Back at the cottage there was some computer time for me. Jer called at 11:30 to say he can meet me at the Denny's at
three. I left on the 12 noon. While waiting for the boat to leave, I notices bunches of fish swimming around the
boat. They were larger than minnows and swam differently. They seemed to be able to bend their bodies up and down
and didn't have the silvery cast that I associate with minnows. A fisherman from the Saco River told me they are
herring. "That's good," he told me. "Means the mackerals will be running soon behind them." He told me how to
cook macs so they aren't oily [cut their heads off immediately after catching them and soak them in water], how to
fish for macs [use a jig lure and move it up and down], and that the macs hadn't arrived at all last year. We traded
stories of moose [we both like moose stew], moose hunters, deer hunters, and perch. He'd never eaten perch so I
described how I'd eaten them sauteed in butter in a fry pan over a campfire.
I had decided to the festivities in the park in Portland after the gay pride march. Finding a place to leave the
car was the worst of it. I found a spot just across from the park and only had to walk past the fountain and the
duck pond to get there.
We are a colorful creative people. I am proud to be part of the g.l.b.t.i.q. tribe. I was glad to see my brothers
and sisters today. On stage a male cross-dresser was doing an earthy rendition of "I am what I am" when I got there.
There were tables from P-FLAG, G.L.S.E.N., the Human Rights Campaign, tee shirt hawkers, artists, churches, the A.C.L.U.,
a lawyer group, a professionals group, a youth group, an anti-violence group, Barack Obama, the Greens, a couple
of women who had made teeshirts using anime characters, and a buddhist group.
I am now a member of the Human Rights Campaign-- it is still illegal in 33 states to fire someone who is not straight
and that is currently the big thing in the works. For my 50 bucks I got a membership, a cool army green bag, blue
baseball cap. I also bought some patches to safety pin onto clothing. Five in all. They read: bi, dyke, powerful,
something, and something else. On stage was a senator [from Massachusetts?], and a bunch of local talent singing and
playing their hearts out. The grass was dotted with couples, knots of friends, and dogs in rainbow collars. And
yes, there were drag queens! There was a guy raffling off one of his paintings. He gave me two glossies with pictures
of his paintings in them-- and one large eight foot by eight foot sculpture which he captioned, "god." He also
speaks to school groups and I was glad of that.
I found my car and headed off to the Denny's, first getting lost by the Maine Mall. I wasn't entirely lost; I just
didn't know how to get to the Denny's from there. The woman at the gas station told me to take 295 North, get off
at Congress Street [exit 5] and it would be right there. It was. Jeremy wasn't. He had gotten lost, talked with
my mother-in-law on Chebeague, went home without even finding the Denny's. I left for the boat figuring something
had happened at home to him between his mother-in-law's errands and he watching his three kids.
On the bus to the boat, someone said the stripers are running [striped bass or trout, not sure which] and that is
what people are fishing for off the bridge right now. The boat was fairly empty. A dog named Sirius and his human
were on it. His human is a builder and gets to take Sirius [a chocolate lab] to work with him. Once off the boat,
husband and Blondie met me. Blondie and Sirius got to meet each other. Husband had taken Blondie round the point
from Hamilton Beach towards Fisherman's Beach but Blondie indicated a bit of non-enthusiasm so both had returned
to the cottage to await my return.
I called Jer when I got back; turns out he never found the Denny's as I had said. We have plans to meet when husband
and I travel up to his eldest's sister's in mid-July. A bit of a disappointment which could not be helped. A second
disappointment was there was no lobster. The lobster guy had boat trouble and that was that. We had chicken
seasoned in hot sauce instead with rice. Mother in law had bacon and eggs. She had made a delicious strawberry
and rhubarb pie. Husband had gotten "fair trade vanilla bean" Ben and Jerry's ice cream from the store on the island.
After dinner, we got most everything else packed [I had taken dirty clothes and books over with me on the 12 noon].
Then it would be computer time to work on animations and play Snood and time with a book until bed.
Sunday:
Sunday was cloudy-sunny-cloudy and then settled on rain in New Hampshire. Husband forgot sensible driving rules
and was veritably ready to throw all caution to the wind. He usually follows too close for my taste and I drive
too slow for his. He was following the bikers too close in the rain. They'd been to Laconia for a biker gathering
and were on their way home. Along the side of the road was a tent set up with free food for them. Actually, the
sign did not say "For Bikers Only." I was willing to stop for some. Husband wasn't.
We stopped several times. Between the dog and our thirst and desires to look at used books, we stopped at the Epson
Mickey Dees, a used book store, a convenience store in Maine and one in Vermont for gas.I drove at the start and at
the end. I was tired as hell on Monday but I made it through. It's good to be home.
sapphoq n friends
Friday, 15 June 2007
God Bless The Rest Of Us - Volume 4
Look at this! I get to bash the state of Massachusetts for two days in a row, but it’s been a slow week, and at least I am willing to admit it. Today is June 14 and that was what was to be the proposed day for the constitutional convention to vote on the Gay Marriage amendment to the Massachusetts state constitution. The vote went down in a roll call fashion and the people will not be able to vote on the issue at all as the final tally was 151 to 45. 50 was the number that was needed to carry the initiative forward, and that is how it ends. I don’t particularly have a problem with this and the fact that I don’t live in that state means that I didn’t have a dog in the fight realistically, but what I did have a problem with was the way the people in favor of Gay Marriage treated everyone to get to this point.
Several arguments were brought up along the way about why they shouldn’t have even been allowed to take the vote to begin with, and the most compelling on the outside of it all was the fact that “You can’t create laws to infringe on a citizen’s civil rights,” which I will show as hogwash in a minute. The other issues were simply battered down to name calling and using lowest common denominator tactics so I won’t really even acknowledge them, but I will say that I have issues on both sides of the isle on this just to be fair. I happen to support Civil Unions because I believe that that is all the state has a right to give, and I support marriage in churches that don’t find issues with it. In other words when this moves on to the next phase where Gay couples are marching in front of Catholic Churches demanding that they have to marry them by law, I will be openly opposing it all because despite the common belief that separation of church and state only applies to religion entering public facilities, it actually applies to the state forcing a religion on someone. I happen to believe that Anti-Religion is every bit as feudalistic of a religion as any, and has become the forced religion of most state governments up north here.
My other serious issue with all of this is that I have no doubt in my mind that had the people been allowed to vote on Gay Marriage it would have been approved by the people of Massachusetts overwhelmingly. It would have made the 4 highly activist judges that forced their agenda on the people moot, because the people would have immediately said that it is ok in their eyes, and this opens a far bigger can of worms. What would the Gay Rights activists do if they had actual approval of the public at large? It sounds rather stupid actually but the concept of having a demon to slay is all that a lot of them have and they would be as equally unhappy not having the public at large to beat up as being a bunch of insecure, closed minded, bigots and homophobes, as the small minority of people that actually are have with them in general. This was really what was defeated at the hands of the Massachusetts legislature and for damn good reason as well because that is a large majority of their political beliefs in that state. “There are bad people out there and we will defend you from them. Look there’s the person I am running against and they are one of the bad people that hate you personally!”
If we were to go back to the whole statute that the people and their representatives aren’t allowed to legislate the civil rights of others then allow me to ask what this is doing in the United States Constitution “Amendment XIII Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.” If I have been studying my Constitutional politics correctly that had to be put to a Constitutional Convention which would have had to have a popular vote of the American people in general thus making the United States the only country on the planet that outright abolished slavery by law as set forth to the people of the country. How about this one? “Amendment XV Section 1. The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” We need to keep in mind that not only were these amendments ratified but they could have easily NOT been ratified thus making it a refusal of civil rights?
The problem in general is that ALL Civil Rights are given to the people by the legislature and you actually don’t HAVE a Civil Right until it has been proclaimed a Civil Right by Law anyway. Judges are NOT allowed to right law, only the legislature is. That is the LAW in every state constitution and the federal one as well. I wonder how the country would look if this hadn’t gone to a Constitutional Convention, “Amendment XIX The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.” Or possibly this one, “Amendment XXVI Section 1. The right of citizens of the United States, who are 18 years of age or older, to vote, shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or any state on account of age.” Realistically I have had enough of people stealing rights by force and by the activist judges that have been stock piled throughout the court systems throughout the country, but I am even more fed up with people that don’t have the common decency to have faith in the people of the state or the country in which they live in. I happen to be a right wing whacko, and I have been in the forefront for civil unions for Gay couples for most of my adult life, but it is maneuvers like this one in Massachusetts that makes damn sure that being a conservative brands me a homophobe by the uninformed no matter what I do. Thanks again you cowards ;8o)
Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes& Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}
Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy
All writings Copyright © 2007 .. Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest