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May 28th, 2013

12:11 am - Wilfred Owen said it better than I:
Anthem for the Doomed Youth-
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? 
Only the monstrous anger of the guns. 
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle 
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; 
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, –
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; 
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all? 
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes 
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. 
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; 
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, 
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
~Wilfred Owen
Current Location: Unil0be
Current Mood: discontentdiscontent
Current Music: A duet of angst & silence

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September 29th, 2012

12:12 am - Torture & TransCanada
C'est moi

On Tuesday, September 25th, I was in Winnsboro, Texas, trying to prevent TransCanada from clear-cutting trees on disputed property while they were facing multiple lawsuits over their horrendously polluting Keystone XL pipeline. Construction had begun to threaten the woods where eight activists were tree-sitting (living in platforms to prevent the trees from being cut), and I was determined to combine my act of protest with action that might assist others in their peaceful civil disobedience.

At around 10am, a small group of us discovered a earth-moving machine constructing a bridge directly towards the trees containing our friends. At a run, we approached the machine (which did stop promptly), and attached ourselves to the hydraulic arm at the back with a steel pipe. Things stayed peaceful if tense for hours, even after the arrival of the local police. It wasn’t until around 2pm that things changed, but when they did, it was with sudden brutality.

The police and TransCanada’s senior supervisor withdrew to consult, and when they returned, the Wood County Lieutenant told us we were under arrest, that we had to release ourselves or face charges of resisting arrest, and possibly other aggravated charges. When we repeated that this was a peaceful protest, we were informed that they’d been “plenty patient” and would begin to use “pain-compliance”.

The police began by wrenching our free arms and wrists, then advanced to using chokeholds. I was choked nearly to unconsciousness by one officer while the other kept my wrist contorted. My left arm was twisted and handcuffed to the machine when they pepper-sprayed the inside of our pipe. When pepper-spraying us proved insufficient, they broke out the taser.

The police’s announced plan was to taser us repeatedly for increasing intervals until we detached. I was tased for one second in the left thigh, then for five seconds in the upper left arm. Luckily, I don’t have a heart-condition, but the police never bothered to ask. Deciding I was too “mule-headed” to continue working over, the police moved on to Rain, tasering her once. Rather than have the police continue to dice with our lives, we decided to detach.

Throughout our ordeal, Rain & I were able to reassure each other by holding fingers inside our steel-pipe; this human contact sustained us while we had to endure each other being tortured.

As soon as we detached, the TransCanada supervisor thanked the Wood County Lieutenant for “a job well done.” The Lieutenant’s reply? “If this happens again we’ll just skip to using pepper spray and tasing in the first 10 minutes.”
Current Location: Houston
Current Mood: determined

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March 26th, 2012

01:16 am - Trayvon Martin
I attended the 1st of the 3 rallies happening in Houston today. It was large considering the lead time. I have high hopes for tomorrow afternoon's rally at TSU; I wish I believed that we could start a movement that wiped prejudice away, but I do think we can change society's norms
& laws so that the innocents suffering while we wait for the prejudiced to die approaches zero.

A powerful, personal reaction from Crommunist to Trayvon's death:

"Here’s what got Trayvon killed: he didn’t ‘shuffle his feet’ enough. Trayvon walked home alone and black in a neighbourhood with a zealous watch captain. When he noticed he was being followed, he ‘foolishly’ made the decision to appear less criminal (criminal, incidentally, as defined through a particular lens). He didn’t bow and scrape obsequiously to the man in the truck with the gun, he didn’t pull back his hood to show that he was a nice boy, or put up his hands and surrender to the man who was convinced Trayvon was a criminal. He did what would occur to most people who are followed (and who don’t have the experience of being harassed or victimized) – he got angry. He stood up for his right to walk through his own neighbourhood without being viewed as a gang-banger simply because of his skin colour, age, and gender. He showed the level of self-confidence and pride that is appropriate and commensurate for someone who is innocent but who is treated as guilty by an asshole.

And it got him killed."
Current Location: The edge of sleep
Current Mood: discontentdiscontent

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January 4th, 2012

12:52 am - Occupying
I have always been prepared for the physical hardships of being a hippie activist. Sleeping on the ground holds no fears for me, nor using terrible porta-potties, improvising together food while seeking shelter, standing in the freezing cold, alone, with a sign, or the threat of deadly violence.

Still, at times I notice the sacrifices demanded by the Cause, and so I thought I might list a few of them out here:

Waiting through a solid hour of light jazz so that I can Mic Check the Xmas tree lighting with a reading from How the Grinch Stole Christmas; oh, how those standards were butchered.
Having to help admin a Wordpress Site
Not interrupting fellow Occupiers even when it is obvious what they're going to say
Missing a LoTR blueray marathon to maintain quorum before then tidying up the park
The crazy abundance of smokers- more than a LARP game!
Current Location: Unil0be
Current Mood: optimisticoptimistic
Current Music: NOFX - You're Wrong
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March 20th, 2011

12:32 pm - A Domestic Lament
Where have all the Boggans gone?
So much laundry
Where have all the Boggans gone?
Sooo much to fold
Where have all the Boggans gone?
Sipped from saucers every one
Oh shall they ever appear?
Oh shall they ever appear?
Current Location: local Laundromat-cum-burger-shack
Current Mood: amusedamused
Current Music: Plain White T'S - Hey There Delilah
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February 1st, 2011

10:34 am - He Ain't Heavy

The highs will be in the 30s in Houston for the rest of the week, with a chance of snow on Friday. Cthulhu has left Unil0be short on both funds & leftovers. If people are able to bring us vegetables (frozen or canned), pasta of any sort, potatoes, & chicken (preferably whole) we will make and distribute Stone Soup through out the week to the hungry.
Current Mood: determined
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December 12th, 2010

04:48 pm - Hopefully not the Gate of Horn
Just had a psychodrama dream, where personifications of my various Selves were on a bus shaped boat being hunted by a Thing that devoured us. It attacked first by surprise with only 2 selves suspecting (Paranoia and Imagination?)- the two it devoured first, where it became a keep-off-the-floor game as it attempted to flip over and undermine the chairs and supports we were sheltering on. Pride was the first to harm the creature, setting himself as bait while forming a support beam to prevent others from falling as their chairs rows were sapped. Despair sets in and is listened to before a shared ritual of eating together (stale goldfish, candy LEGO bricks that taste like roses, tiny pumpkin pie fruits) and welcoming the new passengers (who would have boarded by now without these assaults) somehow revitalizes enough of the remaining Mes. Despair and Creativity go fishing with power-line pulled all ST:NG style from the ship walls and Despair immolates self and Monster (hinted at gaining the qualities of the ego-bits it devours) while wading through the progressively deeper water that's leaked aboard.

Then I woke up.

It seemed hinted without deeds that Despair was the Antagonist to the point where I was startled to see him attacked by it.
Current Location: Unil0be
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative

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September 25th, 2010

12:37 am - I have remembered music in the dark
In the morning I fly out once more to San Francisco. When I scheduled these trips I presumed that I would have my cake & eat it to; a chance to see two dear friends at once, complementing one another in a life ending & a life beginning in that chill & foggy bay. I would have energy & love to spare for Sam- confident that lonelocust would be able to reinvigorate me.

Oft-awry the best laid plans of mice.

With Sam's passing my time in SF has been a vacation & a diverting way to convert numbers on a screen into memorable experiences and renewed intimacies with my BFF. I welcome the break from myself, the brooding I'm prone to, the routines of life at home. Memory is its own treasury but that's not the Teasdale poem that's been haunting me today.


Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
~Sara Teasdale

Current Location: Austin
Current Music: Neil Young - Hey Hey, My My
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August 28th, 2010

02:13 pm - Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely

Sam(antha) aka Malista is dying. This news doesn't surprise me- more then all of us are perpetually doing so, Sam has been actively travelling down that definitive road for months now in her struggle with leukemia. Failed bone marrow transplants, chemo complications and the like are all obvious warning signs & I've been describing Sam-my-dying-friend for weeks now. So what shocks me is my shock.

I've had months of warning, but after years of absence and that is the heart of these feelings. Sam may have been frequently on my mind but her words were not commonly before my eye, and that absence was mine. I know and have lamented that I too easily allow people to drift out of touch as I flit amongst the friendly people who surround me; this time the obstacle (brain hemorrhaging) is not one I can charm my way around or through. Linear time has struck with a vengeance & all I can do is best deal with the Now now before me.

Solemn Hours! wail aloud
For your mother in her shroud.

I have been thinking much of Roger Zelazny's short story "Comes Now the Power" these last few weeks, and how perfectly Zelazny captured this manifestation of the drive to bridge the gap between I & Thou. I am no telepath to give Sam the gift of my lifetime in sympathy with the passing of hers, but I can give her what words I've written & held on to in this octade of space between us...symbolically if her time with home hospice proves insufficient for my itinerary. I do hope, selfishly (the feeling also at bottom here- my loss of Sam is her release) that she will be well enough to appreciate my collection of potshards and diaries.

A formula, a phrase remains- but the rest is lost.
Current Location: Unil0be
Current Mood: pensivepensive
Current Music: Nico - These Days

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August 2nd, 2010

11:40 pm - Dormant
by Dana Goodyear

We want this.
The end to sleeping, the bittersweet
arousal, the peeling back, the soft bath
in resin, the release. It can’t come quick
enough, the hot touch that breaks the crust
and lets us go. Hear it now: a crackling,
as the woods begin to sing alongside the birds.
To cry out! To be transformed, like Daphne
back into a girl. Pine—as if our very nature
demanded that we long without relief. But the cone
is like a shotgun on the wall; it must erupt.
All it takes is one dumb fuck, trigger-happy,
with a six-pack and bad aim,
to generate the spark that turns the world to flames.
Current Location: Unil0be
Current Mood: pensivepensive

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