Aspects of Mother

When he was still in high school, Velvet and a buddy were watching Snakes on a Plane and said that I could easily play the Samuel L. Jackson role.  I'm not sure what prompted the remark, but I found it gratifying.

It may be true Samuel L. Jackson shows up on a movie set, says "motherfucker," collects his check and goes home, but during that time, he radiates authority and competence with a little bit of crazy. These are good qualities for a mother to have - and I mean mother as in a woman with a child not as in Motherfucker.

Naturally, I have a variety of parental shortcomings. The one Velvet finds most annoying, besides my tendency to oversimplify, is looking to him for an explanation of of The Narcissist's behavior.  I don't do it all the time, but I've done it enough for him to tell me it's annoying.

At first, I was very reserved about even mentioning that fellow because there's something sort of pathetic about discussing your adult relationships with your child. I've been extra careful about that with regard to Buzz Kill but since Velvet has witnessed more than a few theatrical arguments between me and Buzz Kill, explanations were occasionally in order. I have never, ever spilled my guts to Velvet about The Narcissist either because after 15 years of therapy, I know better than to parentify my child.

However, when The Narcissist and I broke up a couple of years ago, I cried in my room for days. Again, a bit of explanation was in order.  The conversation drifted into questionable territory, though, because Velvet has a tendency to get mouthy with his opinions. Once he started cultivating his whiskers, he was merciless in his critique of my behaviors which blew all my good intentions to shit. I had to stand and defend.

In a way, it's been good for Velvet to view the complexities of a Male-Female relationship playing out in his living room.  It's as if he's watching a cross between Lifetime TV and an After School Special that presents my one-sided, PG-13 version since he and The Narcissist never laid eyes on each other. There was a time when I was tempted to introduce them, but I fully believe that there is absolutely no reason to bring your romantic interests into the life of your child unless it has been well established that the person is, in fact, serious and as permanent as anyone ever gets. Kids have enough trouble when their parents have gone through a divorce.

Further, it's not like I was asking Velvet what I should do about The Narcissist. I would tell Velvet about an incident and he would assess my behavior to determine if That Guy's reactions were justifiable from the perspective of someone with whiskers. I needed to say, "Can you believe this shit?" to someone, and Velvet was the only person in sight. I have to say, "Can you believe this shit,?" about politics and/or current events all the time. Like when MTV fixed it so kids could text donations to Haiti after the earthquake but didn't make a single arrangement for the souls our government continues to destroy daily in Afghanistan.

Perhaps that is why Velvet has come to the conclusion that I'm a Klingon.

According to Velvet, Men don't like women who can walk up to a man and say, "You're a pussy!" bust him upside the head and then dare him to prove her wrong.  He may be right, but I don't know where Velvet got the idea that I'm like that since he's never actually seen me date anyone.  He's seen me and his father, for sure, and I can't deny that most everyone in the world would concur that I stomped the shit out of his father -but that was only after everything else had failed.  Up until then, I was patient, understanding and compliant.

Being compared to a Klingon Female is just as gratifying as being compared to Samuel L. Jackson.  The Klingon Bird of Prey aspect is a little unflattering since it makes me seem predatory or imperialistic, but I'm willing to concede that my tenacity might seem kind of fierce to someone on the receiving end, especially if I'm proving a point.  I never thought of it as Predatory, though.  I thought I was Relentless.  In any case, I'm very glad that my son thinks I'm as powerful as a Klingon Warrior.  I wish he'd have said Sarah Connor from Terminator, however, but Velvet believes I have been less than helpful when it comes to teaching him how to shoot.  Apparently I've been falling down on the job now that he's decided he'd rather be a Revolutionary than a DJ at Raves.

I doubt that Velvet would think that Sarah Connor is the ideal mother despite her arsenal, but like Samuel L. Jackson and the Klingons, she is Capable, Authoritative and a little bit Crazy which is a good combination when you're putting together a team to go off the grid.  It's a good combination for a preschool teacher, too.

Notably, Sarah Connor never had any romantic interests in The Terminator.  I'm thinking that Velvet may prefer it that, not counting the episode with the preacher, there's only been one romantic interest in my life since the divorce and that's with a man he never met when we were together and who won't talk to me now.  Velvet doesn't seem to mind Buzz Kill's girl friend at all - so I'm thinking he doesn't consider her any sort of competition.  Or maybe Velvet believes that if there's ever any trouble, I'll kick her ass too.   Either way, I'm pretty sure Velvet likes the idea of me being so much of a Klingon that men are chicken to date me.

I'm not sure if the photos of me in Dr. Von Monkerstein's soon to be released graphic novel, Hip Deep, Mountain High will have any impact on Velvet's opinions or not.  I've told him that I'm the model for a Boozy MILF in a graphic novel, and he thought that was kind of cool.  I'm afraid that the reality might be kind of appalling.  I originally figured he'd never see it anyway.  Sadly, once my mother hears about it, and she eventually will, Velvet may be confronted an illustration showing his mother from a very different perspective.

The photos aren't tacky, but they are certainly cheese cakey and my cleavage always shows even when an outfit isn't overly revealing.  I've been thinking that there might be a way to arrange for a percentage of the sales of Hip Deep. Mountain High to help finance the Rebel Alliance.  If we're going to resist our corporate overlords, we're going to need to raise some funds, and I've always liked the idea of using Tits for the Progressive Agenda.

This is one of the photos my dear friend VeryMissMary shot specifically for Hip Deep, Mountain High.  A couple of installments are already available at the dedicated blog, Hip Deep, Mountain High.  There's a link to the story at the Facebook page, and Steve, aka Dr. Von Monkerstein, mentions it occasionally at his main blog Monkey Muck.  He'll probably monkey with this photo when he gets up to the milfy part.

Home for the Holiday

The boys are still sleeping, all seven of them.  I feel like it's finally Thanksgiving.  On Thursday, we had a lovely dinner with friends, but I didn't cook anything at all until last night when I made pot roast for Velvet and his brothers from Hookah House who had come into the city for a concert.  They ate every bit of mashed potatoes they could scrape from the pot, so I gave them saltines to mush up in the broth.  They loved it, and I was proud.

I feel a quiet sense of accomplishment watching kids wolf down food I have prepared.   It's satisfying from a nurturing, maternal perspective, of course, but I especially enjoy seeing Velvet feel like a king among his peers.  After the concert, the guys met Buzz Kill on Amsterdam Avenue for beers, darts and pool.  I'm not sure if he bought every single beer, but between me and Buzz Kill, the guys think Velvet is a lucky duck.  More importantly, Velvet thinks he's a lucky duck.

Once they wake up, some will head home to the suburbs. Others may stay until Sunday when they all head back to Hookah House.  I'm not sure which kids go to Tree Hugger and which go to Big Beautiful Private University - but I can say that they are all polite and well groomed.  The president of the Hookahs brought me flowers.  They all put their dishes in the sink and rinsed out their beer bottles for recycling.

I will admit to being a bit stunned when they were getting ready to go out because of couple of the boys are not only handsome but also surprisingly ripped.  Those young, strong, shirtless men, positively oozing testosterone, can be a bit overwhelming for an old broad, but I'm managing to keep my fleeting fantasies to myself. 



If there's one thing I've learned in all my years as a parent, it's that no one should be like Cartman's Mom who wound up on the cover of Crack Whore Magazine. Nobody wants to be Kyle's mom either.

Breakfast:
Migas: scrambled eggs with bacon, spinach, cheddar cheese and steamed taco chips wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla.  Coffee or Iced Tea.

If anybody passed a bowl around the living room, I wouldn't be mad.

Pssst! Over here . . .

I'm over at Black Magpie Theory today talking about Preachers and Whores

Inequity, War and Civil Disobedience

I finally got a real post done for World Wide Hippies (When the Political gets Personal) .  During this process I learned that it's harder to write for other sites than it is to write for my own.   Over here, I say whatever comes into my head with minimal fact checking.  Over there, I have to research and verify.  For example, I was trying to find current statistics on Wealth Distribution in America, and although plenty of people toss around numbers, it's practically impossible to find consistent percentages.

I finally abandoned the post about Smurfette and the Patriarchy because I got bogged down in researching the Constitutional Congress and Slavery, which was only remotely connected to Smurfette in the first place, but I was making a point.  I'll make that point another day.  Today I've got to go up to Tree Hugger again to pick up Velvet.  Normally he'd ride home on the bus or the train, but he's been sick.  The health center told him it was a virus, and he's feeling better but I still hate to think of him all wheezy with a fever blister on the bus until midnight.  Some might say I'm coddling Velvet, but he is my baby for all that.

Fortunately, I'll be back in time to go see Davis Fleetwood aka Dennis Trainor who is doing stand up Tuesday night at the Gotham Comedy Club.  I'm not sure that I'd even go get Velvet if it meant I would miss Davis Fleetwood because meeting Dennis/Davis is important for The Resistance.



In this video, Davis says:

. . . The disparity between the rich and poor is not acceptable. Health care for all, while cutting out the profit based insurance companies- is a non negotiable. Expensive, illegal wars of aggression must end. On these and so many more issues, there is no middle ground. There is no compromise. And unless you look at the world through confederate flag lenses . . . you know this. It is time to start fighting for it.

He's not recommending violent revolution.  He's thinking more along the lines of Progressives need to leave the Democratic party and create our own or find another alternative.  At World Wide Hippies, I recommended participating in Buy Nothing Day - a simple, comfortable, individual way to engage in sociopolitical activism.  I actually said that we all have to stop buying stupid shit we don't need every single day of the year.  When Target CEO Gregg Steinhafel and his wife each contributed the maximum amount to Michele Bachmann's campaign allowed by law, it's like you're handing a dollar to the Teabaggers every time you walk into Target or Best Buy. 

Anyway, I'm feeling like it's time to step away from the computer and into the Real World.  Inequity in the United States is becoming a matter of life and death.  Suicide rates have been rising since the recession began (Brain Physics 7/27/2010) with a 36% increase to suicide hotlines in 2008 and another 15% in 2009.  Couple that statistic with the fact that suicides account for nearly as many military deaths as the battlefield in Afghanistan (NPR) and we can see that our government is squeezing the life out of its citizens.  And for what? Corporate Profits.  

I'm only a preschool teacher and don't pretend to know what to do about the government, but I'm thinking we should look at the 1968 Democratic Convention for some ideas.

This video is tremulant444 's 2007 project for history class.

An essential difference between life today and in 1968 is that as a result of right wing policies in Education and in Economics, the all-volunteer military has become the only career path available to disenfranchised segments of our population besides a life of crime - which suits folks like Dick Cheney fine since they make as much money off prisons as they do off war.

If people were being drafted today to die in Afghanistan, even Jon Stewart would agree that the sane response to this government is civil disobedience.

Spiritual Conspiracy

Homeland Security appeared in my statcounter early this morning. I was wondering if I had finally arrived as a subversive when Magic of Life Max shared this video:

Victory Song: more musical influences

Yesterday, when I was thinking about Velvet singing his Victory Song, prematurely, I was compelled to find the Eagles video where the Victory Song appears - Already Gone.



This version was recorded in Houston in 1977.  I'm pretty sure I was in the audience at this very concert with my High School boyfriend. I'm also pretty sure that he has no fond memories of me since I threw him over within 72 hours of landing at North Texas State University.  Fun fact to know and tell:  The guys who wrote Rocky Horror Picture Show went to NTSU, briefly, and set the movie in Denton which was certainly appropriate given that back in the day, NTSU was filled with music majors on acid experimenting with jazz. Pretty wild. I studied Russian and Philosophy which is why my mother became worried that the FBI would have a file on me. Now that the Digg Patriots put me on their list of subversives, I guess the Koch Brothers have a file on me which may be just as good - or bad depending on your point of view.

I like Already Gone, especially the line "You can see the stars and still not see the light," but it's not a song that ever influenced my ideas about men, women and/or relationships. For that, we turn to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. When I'm feeling culpable, I identify with Neil Young.

Hurricane
"I want to love you but I'm feeling blown away."



Cowgirl in the Sand
"Old enough now to change your name.  When so many love you, is it the same? It's the woman in you that makes you want to play this game"





However, the truth is that my ideas about what a woman is and should be came from Stevie Nicks. 

Gold Dust Woman makes an excellent point: "Rulers make Bad Lovers. You better put your kingdom up for sale." 



Leather and Lace because in my heart, I believe that we can come together to create balance, harmony and mutual support.



Which brings us back to Crosby, Stills and Nash to ultimately describe things in Relationships - Helplessly Hoping because even though these two are fearful, and kind of fucked up, "they are for each other."



Now that I'm a certain age, I hope I've become that Woman/Girl who knows Love will endure - because you know it will.

Musical Interlude

I've got to finish a piece for World Wide Hippies today and if I get started on something over here, I'll get side tracked for sure.  I'm still all into changing patterns.  We could all go ahead and interpret that as as me being focused on Romance, but there's more to it than that.  Somehow, I always seem to be able to take the smallest thing and find metaphorical implications that explain contemporary societal issues.  Maybe that's what the guy who won't see me meant when he referenced my tendency toward drama - but really, now that Keith Olbermann and MSNBC have secured the Drama Queen crown for themselves, I should be in the clear.   In any case, today I'm pondering the patriarchal significance of Smurfette - but that's for World Wide Hippies.

Here at Menopausal Stoners World Headquarters, it's a Steely Dan kind of morning.  HQ will remain HQ once I leave Central Park West for Austin, Texas.  Both are good, but it's important to recognize that I think of myself as living on Central Park West as opposed to New York City.  Once I'm in Austin, I'm making a home that's like a Yoga retreat.  I'm pretty sure there aren't any yoga retreats in New York City.  Not as quiet as I like retreats to be, anyway.  In New York City, you need to turn on your own music to insulate yourself from the noise - which is why all those people wear iPods everywhere they go.  I don't like to insulate myself from the crowds because I feel like you might as well experience everything you do to the absolute fullest.  That experiential intensity might have been what he meant by Drama.

I have calmed the fuck down over the last couple of years because I've been resolving major situations.  First and foremost, Buzz Kill and I have come to an understanding so that we can work together well and remain cordial.  I don't have to wonder when we're selling the apartment because we're selling it this spring, and I'll be buying a house in Austin no matter what happens - at least that's Plan A.  Plan B, too.   Of course, variables are constantly in flux for everyone, so all anyone can do is have Plan A and Plan B. 

The main focus of my life for the last couple of years has been successfully separating geographically from Velvet.  The Nest is gloriously empty, and he's singing his Victory Song up there at Hookah House.  Prematurely, if you ask me, given that he's still on academic probation, but it's exceedingly difficult to convince a 20 year old male of anything, so let him sing.

When I think of separating from Velvet, I remember how NASA would track and report the stages of separation when rockets were launched to the moon.  Right now, both Velvet and I are blasting off for new territory, and that heavy, home bound stuff is successfully behind us.

Looking at all the transitions and transformations that I have admirably managed, more or less, I still find Reelin' In The Years motivational on account of the line:  You've been telling me you're a genius since you were seventeen . . .



Dr. Wu is always relevant because in the final analysis, we're all ordinary guys, asking ourselves Have you done all you can do?  At least we should be.



Rikki Don't Loose That Number goes out to that guy who won't see me - wherever he is. As it happens, I'm the one whose leaving, but he could have a change of heart. A girl can hope.



I have to say, though, that even if I'm bothered when somebody finds me too intense, somewhere deep inside, I believe those guys are pussies. 

Patterns and Pareidolia

When I'm wondering if there is a connection between things, such as the pain in my shoulder and the men in my life, for example, I remember that the human mind is wired to perceive patterns in random events.  At least , that's what Bruce M. Hood says.  He's a psychologist who looks at superstitions (God IS in your Brain).

That's one of the reasons why people often mishear song lyrics like these:

Angels, Beavers and Spiritual Alchemy

I've been ruminating on something for months and months, but I haven't mentioned it here on the blog because people on the internet seem disinclined to mention spirituality unless you're in a Yoga zone.  Also, a sizable portion of people seem to cruise the internet simply because they like to argue.  I avoid those people because their Energy is nasty and hangs in the atmosphere long after they're gone.  I can tolerate that bullshit when discussing Politics or Religion, but if I'm wondering about Angels or Spirit Guides, for example, I don't need some bilious troll spewing Negativity.

Another trouble is that as soon as you mention Energy, you find yourself on an Airy Fairy, Hippie Dippie, New Age trajectory that may very well lead to militant lesbians who gather in state parks to worship the Goddess and use a Y to spell "womyn" because they can't stand the idea that the word women contains men.  No disrespect to those womyn, but as someone who would like to be taken seriously, at least occasionally, I'm not going there.  As hard as The Patriarchy sucks, and as important as it is to use gender-neutral vocabulary - the Y thing seems like a hostile affectation.

Discussing Energy is further complicated because of Grandpa in the Sky - better known as God - who fucks up everything in which He becomes involved.  That's not God's fault.  It's the fault of Conservative Christian Right Wing Republicans and the Teabaggers and Dominionists who are their Spawn. At least, that's whose fault it is in America.  Different cultures have different extremists.

Militant Lesbians and Global Politics have not prevented me from wondering if the pain in my left shoulder is evidence of an individual energetic issue.  They have, however, prevented me from discussing it on the blog.  The thing is that when you're sincerely working on Being the Change, you have to examine your own character in order to align your actions with your beliefs.  Further, if your energy is not flowing evenly and strongly up and down your Chakras, you will be unable to thoroughly process any of your thoughts, ideas, beliefs and/or feelings which makes a person energetically constipated.  The Chakras process energy so that your spirit is functioning healthily in much the same way that the digestive system processes everything we take in physically so that the body is healthy and functional.

In a literal way, Teabaggers are spiritually constipated.  Everyone's energy runs up and down the chakras with the idea of connecting the Earthly to the Divine.  Tantric ideas are based on this understanding of Energy so that orgasms become a spiritual experience.  The energy starts at the first Chakra, at the bottom, and runs up the core and out through the top of the head - hence the term, mind blowing orgasm.

It's the same with Teabagger Thinking.  They hear something that Glenn Beck says, for example.  Because they are spiritually constipated, they cannot process input effectively.  Ideas and Beliefs are trapped in the first chakra - so that in a concrete (if Airy Fairy) way, their heads are, in fact, in their butts.

For Real - I wonder if all the physical issues I've had with my left shoulder ever since I got thrown off a horse back in the summer of 2006 are a manifestation of troublesome juju.

 You can get a succinct flash presentation about all this stuff here:  http://www.myss.com/chakra/chakrasflash.asp

Sometimes I wonder if there's a spirit guide trying to tell me something.  Like a little kid yanking on your arm all the time saying, "Hey - over here!"  Maybe it's not a spirit guide, exactly, but when I got my DNA activated in 2007, Davis told me that the sore spot at the base of my neck - just where the neck slopes into the left shoulder - is where somebody else's secret is trapped.   I have ideas about that secret, but I'm still unclear about a lot of stuff.  I will say, however, that as a result of my history, I frequently stifled myself in relationships in order to maintain the appearance of Harmony.  In reality, there was discord, but when I was effectively communicating only what the other person wanted to hear, the other person thought there was harmony.

I got thrown off the horse a couple of weeks after I finally gave my own voice enough power to break through Buzz Kill's brick wall of Denial regarding our marriage.  By that time I was furious, unfortunately, and he finally moved home to his Mother.  On one level, it was exhilarating to release my voice and free my spirit.  On all my other levels, the experience was so terrifying and destructive that I shut the fuck up.  As it happens, two weeks prior to the spectacular climax of my marital dysfunction, I met The Narcissist.  One of the primary reasons that relationship could function had to do with the way I modified my Voice.

About nine months later, I had to have surgery to shorten the tendons in my shoulder since it was dislocating all the time.  Although my shoulder is now stable, it hurts sometimes.  Well, it hurts all the time and the range of motion is seriously restricted.  Certainly, there are physical reasons for that pain and restriction, and getting thrown off that horse was just a random incident.  Random shit happens all the time - the entire existence of this planet and life on it is probably random shit that rose from the fundamental chaos of the universe.  Nevertheless, the way I went flying through the air when that horse kicked his hind legs toward some construction noise he heard in the alley behind the stable on West 89th Street was a direct result of my personal body alignment - which is a manifestation of my personal energy.

Things with my voice have improved dramatically so that I can communicate effectively at work with kids, parents, colleagues and the administration.  I express my honest opinion appropriately.  Up until a couple of years ago, I could only tell the whole truth if I were so upset that I was in tears.  I don't know what happens in romantic relationships these days since I don't have one - but despite the fact that me and the preacher didn't hit it off, I believe the communication was honest and respectful.  Things with Buzz Kill are totally cool these days, and they are with my friends and family too.  In fact, the only relationship that remains fucked up is the one with The Narcissist, but my writing isn't where I'd like it to be either which is all about empowering my voice which brings us back to that pain in my shoulder.

Caroline Myss says that your Biography becomes your Biology. Everybody knows that it's common to hold stress in our necks and shoulders.  A secret that bubbles under the surface of a family for a generation or two certainly causes stress.  And when that secret has restricted your ability to manifest your authentic identity, it's very easy to just jump further down the Airy Fairy Trajectory and declare my shoulder pain to be a physical expression of the task of empowering and releasing my own voice.  Fourth Chakra stuff, if I'm remembering correctly.

In Spiritual Alchemy, Caroline talks all about examining our lives from an archetypal perspective. It has to do with approaching our challenges and issues with deeper awareness which leads to personal balance and stability.  She advocates taking a moment to look at yourself and ask:  What the Fuck are you Doing and Why are you doing it over and over and over again?  She proposes looking at yourself as if you were a character in a fairy tale - which is pretty much Jungian psychology.  It's just that after he himself explored Eastern philosophy, he concluded that Westerners we so stuck in their Egos that we couldn't do Yoga.  As if we can't have those mind blowing orgasms because our heads are stuck up our butts.  I can see why he'd think so given the nature of Hilter, the Holocaust, WWII and I don't know what all else was in the environment back then.  Reaganomics and Endless War enriching Plutocrats further support Jung's conclusions.

You can't wave a magic wand and change the Teabaggers - or Karl Rove and Dick Cheney for that matter.  All you can do is Be The Change, like Gandhi said.

To that end - if this ongoing pain in my left shoulder is the result of a spirit guide trying to tell me something essential to the healthy flow of energy up and down my chakras, then I need to stop wondering and start working.  Terms like Angel and Spirit Guide are just vocabulary words for something abstract so we can discuss an experience with others.  Native Americans related to the Divine through the Earth and explained stuff using animal imagery.  To me, it's the same as Santa Claus.  There may not be a real man at the North Pole in a red suit, but there is certainly a Santa energy as Francis Pharcellus Church explained to Virginia years ago in the New York Sun.

Back in when I was getting my DNA activated in Tahoe, the practitioner noticed that I have a spirit guide beside me in those very dark places in my soul.  The trouble I've had with the concept all these years is that my spirit guide is a Beaver so any time I start wondering what to do about the pain in my shoulder from an energetic perspective - I come back around to the notion that when my soul is trapped in a dark place, all I can rely on my Beaver to guide me safely toward balance and harmony.

For someone whose mind goes straight to sex whenever June says, "Ward, you were very hard on the Beaver last night," having a Beaver for a spirit guide prohibits a serious conversation.  But maybe that's the point, after all - and maybe that's why I'm fixated on the guy who won't talk to me.  The ability to process energy thoroughly and effectively is essential to connecting with the Divine which is essential to being a conscious creator in your own life.  If Tantra, or the left hand path as it's known in Yogaspeak, is a path designed by the universe expressly so that people who live in the Real World - going to work, dealing with responsibilities, obligations and miscellaneous Earthly aggravations as opposed to being a vegan and meditating all day in precise yoga postures - then perhaps this pain in my left shoulder is a manifestation of my Beaver saying that if I want mind blowing orgasms, I need to be a progressive political activist and writer.

Weekend at Tree Hugger

I wrote for Magpie yesterday (Leaders and Liars).  My heart wasn't particularly in it, however, because I had to stop writing to go pick up Cupcake and Velvet at Hookah House to take Cupcake to the train station.  A couple of weeks ago, when Velvet told me that he'd broken up with Cupcake (story is also at Magpie, with a political slant), I had a feeling that she'd show up at Thanksgiving.  Little did I know that she spent four days up there at Halloween.  Yesterday, not even a week since she'd gone home - leaving her cheap French Maid costume in Velvet's little apartment as well as a corset hanging from a hook on the refrigerator - she caught a ride with a friend and showed up at Hookah House with Fable III.

I can't blame her for admiring Velvet, and I have to admit that I'd have done the same thing when I was her age.  Corset and everything.  You would think that Velvet would stash the lingerie in a drawer or something since he knew I was coming to visit.  But no.  My son has short, lacy nighties and a corset hanging on hooks in the hallway.

On the way to the train station, I told the both of them that if he's on academic probation again at the end of this semester, he's going to spend next semester in the Wyoming Rockies freezing his ass off with NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School).  At least that way, he'll have 16 credits at the end of the semester for the first time since he went off to college.

For the most part, I am not worried.  Velvet and I met with his Executive Functioning Coach and everything is back on track.  He'd been ditching her for a couple of weeks - ever since Buzz Kill had a meeting with the Coach and Velvet got the idea that she was pushing Buzz Kill's agenda.  That's all straightened out now, and they'll be meeting once or twice a week through finals.  His grades at mid-term are okay.  He may even get a B this semester, but I'm not holding my breath.

What troubles me most is that between me and Cupcake, Velvet is under the impression that he is, in fact, a prince.  Worse - there is absolutely nothing to contradict that impression.  The guys at Hookah House think I'm the best mom ever because (1) I made sauteed chicken breasts with orzo, spinach and mangoes for all 22 of them on Sunday and delivered it to the House so they could have it at their weekly chapter meeting and (2) I hit the Vortex a couple of times on Saturday night.

The guys moaned about my weak hitting power, but I'm pretty sure that nobody wants his mother to smoke weed like a wild woman - and besides, I had to drive in a couple of hours.  It was my intent to demonstrate Moderation and Responsibility.  Actually, I had a wonderful time with the guys on Saturday night since I had no clue that Cupcake would be arriving the next evening.  When she got there the next night, I exchanged the necessary pleasantries then went back to Velvet's studio apartment.

I felt a bit guilty leaving her and Velvet to sleep on the sofas at Hookah House, but everyone assured me that it wasn't a bit awkward, inconvenient or uncomfortable.  I thought about using Priceline and getting a nice hotel room on the cheap - but it would have still been $75 or so for a hotel, and I was not inclined to spend any money just so that Cupcake and Velvet could sleep together in the apartment I am already paying for.  She knew damn well I was already at Tree Hugger when she got in the car Sunday afternoon, but she missed Velvet so badly that she simply wanted to look at his face.

So between me cooking and doing his laundry and her hand delivering the new Fable for his Xbox - Velvet might as well be Mel Brooks in History of the World Part I.

It's good to be king!

I suppose that it's okay for now, though, since the boy does have to live down being such a colossal dumb ass last spring when he got arrested (Velvet gets Arrested, Stonerdate 04.17.10).  Next week, all the fraternities will be participating in the annual scavenger hunt.  We're all waiting to see if the Douchers put Velvet on their list or if that incident has drifted into legend.  And we're waiting to see if Velvet finally gets off academic probation.

Suspending KO = Effective PR

Am I the only one who thinks that suspending Keith Olbermann is publicity driven bullshit?

My theory:  MSNBC got pissed off when Jon Stewart ran a montage at the Rally that drew heavy comparisons between MSNBC and Fox.   Since the elections on Tuesday proved that most Americans have no comprehension skills at all whatsoever - there's no point in "refudiating" Stewart with a well presented, clearly articulated logical comparison/contrast.  Nothing sensational about that - even if it were presented on Jon Stewart's show.  Jon Stewart is busy making friends with Fox's Chris Wallace these days anyhow.

As soon as MSNBC suspended Keith for a couple of campaign contributions, Twitter and Facebook came alive.  Outraged liberals from coast to coast started shouting "double standard" and making a bunch of noise about Fox's well known GOP, GOTea fund raising activities. Some tweeple said MSNBC showed favoritism by suspending Keith when other employees made contributions without getting in trouble.  As I understand it, those contributions were pre-approved by the network and Keith's weren't - but again - nobody pays attention when that much reading is required.

When the whole incident can gallop ahead in 140 characters or less on Twitter and Facebook Status updates - both providing links to MSNBC or to Michael Moore's emergency petition supporting Keith Olbermann - half the world will be watching MSNBC next week.

I'm thinking there's a special comment from Keith - already in production - where he says being suspended was appropriate because it distinguishes MSNBC from FOX.  Then he can go on Jon Stewart and make himself and MSNBC appear to have Moral Authority.

Suspending Keith has been very effective PR so far.

Preliminary Analysis of Midterm Results

Pundits will be arguing about what the teabagging victories last night signify - but that's just because they need something to talk about on TV.  Sharron Angle did not beat Harry Reid, which only proves that a candidate can have all the corporate and foreign money in the world and still be so repulsive that s/he can't get elected. That he only won by 6% illustrates the single most important factor in these elections:  People are stupid.  Not just a few people.  A shit load of people.



We sick an' tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin' 'n' goin' to heaven in-a Jesus' name, lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty god is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you can't fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (what you gonna do?),
We gonna stand up for our rights!

The Ism-Skism game is the very effective tool that Rulers use to Divide and Conquer.  Last night, we were conquered again, sort of.  An Oompah Loompah is fixing to be Speaker of the House, for Chrissakes and Proposition 19 was defeated along generational lines.

What can you do besides forget about those stupid teabaggers and focus on Being the Change?  Truly, that's all anyone can ever do - but it's hard to forget anyone who makes as much noise as the Aqua Buddha.  It's time to Turn Off the TV.  In fact, it's time to take a Counter Culture lesson from Timothy Leary :

Like every great religion of the past we seek to find the divinity within and to express this revelation in a life of glorification and the worship of God. These ancient goals we define in the metaphor of the present — turn on, tune in, drop out.

As anyone who ever did acid knows, it's best to be in a safe environment when you're tripping.  You need to be among friends.  I may not be in a position to start tripping right this very minute - and the world out there is so damn depressing that it may be wiser to wait until we're not bumming in the first place.  In the meantime, we need to know who and where our friends are.  Gathering together, at least virtually, is one way to resist the forces of Isolation that The Establishment requires to keep us in our place:  Working for nothing with our heads down and our mouths shut.

Activism is scary because it's not "nice."  Jon Stewart may very well have staged a Rehearsal for Revolution by demonstrating that it's safe to come to the Mall - but he was still pretty fucking nice.  I'm not saying we should be Mean.  We can speak Truth to Power without being abusive.  I'm not sure what Bill Ayers would have to say about that since it often appears that Power only starts to listen to Truth once people start blowing up buildings.

I'll figure all this out later.  It's time for me to hang out with my little buddies in my classroom. It's a sunny day here in New York City and I haven't taken out the prisms this year.  Nothing raises my spirits like prisms and ping pong balls, and I especially love to dump out a bucket of ping pong balls and show little kids how to chuck them in the water table.

Those dumbass teabaggers who got all freaked out about Obama indoctrinating America's school children would be very, very worried to hear a preschool teacher mentioning Bill Ayers and throwing things in the same breath.  You better believe we indoctrinate our children - but not to be socialists, exactly.  We're trying to build reserves of intellectual curiosity and strength that will help them in the days ahead.

And to the Koch brothers, Ginni Thomas, Rupert Murdoch and all them - even Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan - I say, "Inch by Inch, Motherfuckers."

Greetings from the Resistance

Ever since I've been hanging out with World Wide Hippies, I've been wondering where Menopausal Stoners would fit into the demographic Space Time Continuum.  Menopausal Stoners saw the Sixties on the news but we were too young to be Original Hippies.  They would have been our older brothers and sisters - or maybe our parents.

Then I had an epiphany.  Maybe not much of an epiphany, and maybe no surprise to anyone but me - but I realized that Menopausal Stoners are Hippies.  It's a State of Mind not a Demographic.  That's what Hunga Dunga Phil was saying when he left this comment on a post I had written about The War (Not in Our Name).  I could have sworn Phil said something to me about age/demographics - but it must have been in the comments over at World Wide Hippies since I can't find it right now.  I can find the article where he clearly defines the difference between Hippies and Baby Boomers:  Life's Exit Ramp - Boomer or Hippie. Phil says:

. . . to be a ‘hippie’ is to have a set of cultural attributes and values that include love, peace, a strong belief in social, economic and political justice for all, and a profound respect for the earth. By that definition, to be a hippie is to be unconstrained by a specific span of time.

Some Original Hippies think Hippies scattered to the winds when the Sixties died and that as the Hippies get old and die themselves, Hippies become extinct. Well, at least that's what Woody thinks and he is an Original Hippie.  I may not be presenting his point of view accurately since he and I often slide quickly between topics, but Woody seems to believe Hippies were a specific group of people confined to a specific place and time.  I've looked at Hippies that way, too - as a point on a time line - which is why I wondered where Menopausal Stoners would fall on that same time line, demographically speaking.

The Hippie Movement is not a thing of the past, however.  The Hippie Movement simply got buried under the same load of shit that trickled down on all of us on account of Reaganomics.

During my epiphany, I imagined a bunch of Hippies crawling out from under Reagan's legacy, dusting themselves off, stretching and getting ready to Dance - but not just old hippies like Woody.  All kinds of people are Hippies now.  The Age of Aquarius dawned forty years ago, after all.  The Old Order rapidly reasserted itself - because that's the nature of things - but that doesn't mean the Hippie Movement was Dead.  Buried? Yes.  Depressed?  Definitely.  But not Dead.  Furthermore, there were those of us who were directly touched by the actions of the Original Hippies.  We, their younger sibs.  Hippie Values live inside us - just as they remain alive in the Original Hippies - and we've all influenced the people around us.

That's when Woody called and started grousing about The Rally to Restore Sanity being a piece of corporate sponsored shit.  I don't agree.  The Rally was certainly a commercial event, and the show itself reminded me of a skit we saw up at the Hippie Dippy Quaker camp where Velvet spent many, many summers - which was all about supporting independent media in the face of Corporate Control.  However, the Rally was an excellent way to show today's very comfortable "slacktivists" that descending on the Mall in Washington DC can be safe and fun. You have to admit that if you grew up with visions of Kent State and Birmingham in your head, you might be reluctant to march in the streets.

The 18 - 40 year olds (that's a demographic) at the rally may have learned about Kent State in history class (probably not, though) and Ronald Reagan is just another dead president to them.  This group is the product of an Education system determined to kill the ability to connect the dots.  They are also the product of a consumer culture gone wild - a society that never connected the dots between their gas guzzling SUVs, dependence on fossil fuels and the war in Iraq.   Like their gas hogs are basically tossing hand grenades at the very soldiers they claim to support.

Even dedicated Progressives in this demographic aren't going to descend on Washington except for a Corporate sponsored event with Celebrities and Merchandise - and the chance to post their pictures on Facebook.  Life is too cushy and comfortable, and demonstrations are not trendy.  Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert drew a crowd of concerned, if comfortably complacent, citizens to the Mall for intellectual  fellowship and an introduction to Connecting the Dots.  Maybe it wasn't political activism, but activism is scary.  I'm scared of it - and Woody still has scars from his days as a Peace Activist during the Vietnam War.

I went to sleep thinking about Being the Change and woke up thinking about the Mandelbrot set. It's that never ending pattern - the one you continue to find no matter how far we look outward or how deeply we look inward.



In humanity's case, the pattern seems to be that Wealthy Rulers rape, pillage, plunder and oppress the rest of us, and every so often the Peasants revolt. Society evolves into something a bit more human, and then the Rulers go back to raping, pillaging and oppressing the rest of us. And so it goes.  Each time we peasants revolt, we make a little progress. Maybe that's why they call us Progressives. 

There is more to being a Hippie than being Progressive, however, and I'm fixing to dive in and discover all those differences for myself. I wonder if taking the Hippie plunge is sort of like being dunked by holy rollers so that you come out a Born Again Hippie. I may get a chance to find out for myself this weekend.  I'm heading up to Tree Hugger to visit Velvet and if I drive just a bit farther west on Rt 17 than usual, I'll wind up at World Wide Hippies Headquarters where I can meet Mr. Joseph McEvoy, one of the founders.

This Joint Venture seems to be coming in the nick of time, too.  The election results suggest that it's time to solidify the Rebel Alliance.  In this Culture War, I intend to bring everyone Greetings from the Resistance.