Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘feminisim’ Category

Just in case Rump or those who vote for him might wonder, it IS the people who have the power! In one sense it was shown in last nights results, in that a large unhappy part of the population took their frustrations out on Washington D.C. and truly made themselves heard. As Hillary Clinton said, we found out that we are a much more divided country than we thought. Oh how i wish it had taken another form. It is typical for the outcast, the underpriviledged white angry male voter to turn to fascism. It happened in Germany and it’s happening now across europe and today in the USA. Our job is to listen better and find ways to fight off Rump and his insanity all the while working to heal a nation divided and in a great deal of pain.
#NowPlaying People Have The Power – Live by Patti Smith

https://open.spotify.com/track/3AMTprQwcxLj0b5NZoS5d7

Read Full Post »

Two things come to mind, Rump used the same tactics as Adolf Hitler to get elected; prey on the ignorance of the people, feed their hatred and fear and then tell them that you’re the only one that understands, the only one that can save them, use that heightened sense of fear to raise an anger that grows and consumes any wisdom. This is how facism works.  
The other thing is an enormous fear over the future as i watch a delusional bully with a limited intellect and the compassion of a dead lizard, I picture him drooling at the thought of being in the oval office with his fingers on the launch codes. 

I am dead fucking angry and I’m scared more than ever. This jackass has just put a target on every free-thinking american everywhere. The assumption will be that we support his racist hate. Well, I, for one, refuse to. Fuck him and his hate. I refuse to be a part of his hate group. ( perhaps other than hating him). 
I don’t care who you are. Be it family or friend, if you voted for this sonofabitch  then you are no friend of mine and you are not welcome in my life. Unfriend me immediately!! Take your brown shirts, your swastikas and your hate and get the fuck out of my life!!!!

Rump thinks he’ll have it easy. We will organize. We will fight. We will burn it down if need be!! 

Read Full Post »

This is a brilliant article about how many Trump has offended by his racist misogynist fascist diatribes and totally without any apology. but then, how or why would one expect it?  To TRULY apologize, it is, as I understand it, an act based upon a sympathetic feeling and a feeling of true remorse. He isn’t capable of such feelings. That is one of the key signals for a psychotic, the total inability to understand or appreciate the consequences of one’s actions. It is also one of the characteristics for fascists as well. At any rate, do read this article,, and feel free to leave me feedback.

 

 

 

An Open Letter to Donald Trump: I Reject Your Apology. Here’s Why.

Read Full Post »

Yes!!! Isn’t it time that men own their violence, prejudices, misconceptions, and sexist attitudes towards women and let them make their own decisions? Isn’t it time for men to stop blaming women for their own violence, perversions and lack of control? Rape, for example, has NOTHING WHAT SO EVER to do with what a woman wears, rather it is PURELY the result of a mans violence and hatred towards women. Such laws, or constructs, as a requirement to wear a burka, stem in reality from mens mistrust of themselves and a psychotic need to deny any responsibility for their own hateful attitudes. We can never have gender equality while such antiquated attitudes prevail. Until that fact is burned into our global conscience, we will continue to have such demeaning laws. I don’t like a burka but as long as they exist, i will support women’s right to choose. If a woman chooses OF HER OWN FREE WILL to wear one, or a birkini on a french beach, SHE HAS THAT RIGHT!!! And to assume that just because she makes that choice she has to be a terrorist is just bloody stupid and you need to buy an clue.
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/27/nytnow/top-10-comments-isnt-it-also-against-her-freedom-of-choice.html?smid=fb-nytimes&smtyp=cur

Read Full Post »

These poets released their hearts on the world​The ones we knew and lost,

Those punk poets with ADHD and precious fits of anger,

​The ones who tore down the murals on Pine Street

The ones who brought their stolen guitars

​13 years old, playing music in the streets until dawn

​When the police stole them from their sleeping bags

​Handcuffing them into the backseat of their prowlers

​The order of a blowjob or a night in jail

Those romantic poets whose hearts were young and full of anticipation

​The ones not yet broken down by maryjane dreams in

​The back seats of adult theatres

​The quick cum meals swallowed fast and cheap for food money

​The old men with their eyes closed never cared about a name

Those dying poets who were still so very alive and independent

So much more than you and I ever were

​Not haunted by false iconic visions of future fatherly duty and the

​Idiom of an autocratic family life without questions

​Answers answers answers they never wanted and we never knew

Those spoken word poets who sold their souls on the interstate

Spouting their gospels out loud in honkytonks​

From Nashville to Memphis

Living in the back seat of a 55 Ford

​The Guardians of Race beating them in fits of fear and hate

Those crazed poets who raced down the riverbanks without shoes

​Hair flying in the breeze, eyes bulging out of their skulls

​Blanked out on crack screaming at the universe about

Eternal damnation and all the

​Virgins they’d never live to fuck

Those anaemic Goth poets who couldn’t get out of bed before 6pm

​Puking in the hallway, blood surrounding the toilets

​Building supervisors looking the other way in disgust but

​Knowing they’d pay their rent at the end of the month

​When they dropped their jeans

Those interstellar poets who flew to Europe with daddies’ money

​The ones who blew it all in a casino without windows

Losing it on broken promises and

​A thousand and one forgotten explanations

Those intellectual poets who fell to their knees in philosophical orgasms

​Espousing a faith to the almighty Kafka. Trotsky or Camus in

​Coffeehouses filled with clove smoke thick as lies

Clueless fools awaiting verbal ejaculations

​Still debating just what the fuck they meant

 

Does it fucking matter at all?

 

These poets released their hearts on the world

​The ones no one knew

Those hipster poets their pockets filled with Hegel

​The ones who argued that life is a fucked up poem of its own

“Ecstasy is the natural form of live” tattooed across their foreheads as they killed themselves

​In taxis sneaking their poems out of East Berlin in the 1970s

​The last stanzas of the Internationale and top secret words,

Words of revolution slipping out of their consciousness.

Those fashionista poets with the berets,

​Dizzy and Bird and Mingus, oh bop kabala, oh piano riffs of Monk

​Twisting the head around until it falls into the Hudson

​Only to be born again in these lines

.

I too want to be born again in these lines. Oh holy oh holy

Oh Mother of Invention and Creationism dead and dying.

Lying in a supermarket aisle with the scars of unfaithful husbands

Cocks swallowed whole in hasty retreats

Notes in pockets of winter coats left behind hastily and forever regretted

Let me cum on your breasts.

Let me fill your vessels in three quarter time.

Frantic frantic these words cannot give me peace that’s not their intent

These are the poets’ cries, the ones no one hears

Bulldozers running 24/7, poetic cities of metal built and rebuilt on the same stones

Stoned poets running in the Bowery,

Running in Harlem,

Running in Seattle and San Francisco bath houses

Running from gin joint to bop united strip joints to gay bars with big screen tvs

Blasting Eurovision and Berlusconis porn for the masses, but I digress

 

These poets released their hearts on the world

Those shy poets tripping over cobblestones in 60s Stockholm coffeehouses

​Out of focus permanently in every night daydreams of a better world

​Daydreams daydreams life is but a daydream

​Palmes murder ended a countries’ dream but now it’s all life as you want it

​If you want it here it is come and get it

​Swim from the city to the archipelago drown in the icy water all alone

​Your poetic dreams washed up on shores of fascist nations

Those awkward poets hiding in the public library salons built like hospital wards

Leaving notes in Martian, this I’ve seen, that no one can decipher on the large tables while flashing gorgeous legs to the staff

​Security guards keeping a vulture close watch on their every curve

​Rhymes from ancient poets calling, pushing their insanity further and further

​Their poems lost for all time with a jolt of electricity or the push of a needle.

Those poets who burned their blood with ink and notes and bong hits to Mars

​Screeching their poems across the Reed College radio wavelengths

To scholastic pulpits with drug infested dirges raining down on their

Consciousness

​Until Eric has to scream “No more, No more” across the rooftops of hell

​Campus security hoping he takes the leap

His poetry left behind on the stones of campus forever like a scar to the truth.

Those poets who burned their draft cards, chanting allegiance to Ho Chi Minh

​Who refused to follow the dictates of the ruling class,

​Sprawling their refusals across the urinals of the world

​Taking the sacramental piss on the military and thus winning

​The hearts and minds of the universal soldiers of peace

Those poets who set themselves on fire feeding the flames of the suicide contagion

Dying young and holy on the streets of Tibet, on the streets of Tunisia,

The Werther effect burned forever into the minds of rebels and sacrificial lambs as the only answer, orange robes in red flames

  

Read Full Post »

I will see nothing
But the children of peace
Their hair spread against the wind
Like the wings of angels

I will hear nothing
From the tombs of your dead
But the voices from my own thoughts
Like the salve of the ages

I will not open my door
To you as a visitor
Bringing your unrepentant anger
To my thirsty soul

I will no longer dance
With you parents of war
Your darkness blots out
The light from my feet

I will not see your world
Nor read your newspaper
Not hear your symphony
I will not say your prayers
But those which I make myself
The words of empowerment
The songs of unison

I will not drink at your table
I will not eat of your meat
You have no nourishment
To offer such a one as I

The end of the world
As you know it
Will be our only salvation

I will not die
Until we, all of us,
Can die under peaceful skies
Our souls drifting quietly across the sunset
Like a shroud of the finest linen

Read Full Post »

There is no greater injustice than the continued gender based oppression of and violence against women across the world.

http://commondreams.org/news/2014/11/24/end-hunger-empower-women-study

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: