We've lost our beloved Peoples' Poet.....

I just heard the news about dear Rik Mayall's sudden passing.

Cracking up at the Young Ones helped so many of my deep blues in my 80's college years.  As did his hysterical WOOF's on Black Adder, too.  

 He's left us with such amazing gifts.  I encourage anyone who has never heard of him, or never watched an episode of the Young Ones, to pop some popcorn and explore YouTube for the many oodles of his hilarious wit, delivery and comic timing.  The Young Ones and Black Adder are definitely the perfect places to start.


Rest well, Rik.

I hear the 4 Horsemen are looking for a 5th to join them...and Pestilence and Famine would love BLT sandwiches x0x0x

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/comedy/comedy-news/10887340/Rik-Mayall-his-10-best-performances.html





          

She has helped so many of us rise.......

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."  


"People will forget what you said....people will forget what you did....but people will never forget how you made them feel."



 


I just don't have the words right now.

x0x0x0x Rest well beautiful, brilliant Maya.

   

What a difference a day makes.....

Banned for life for his hateful, racist rants.  But the dialogue isn't over...no matter what the 24 hour mainstream news cycle says and how quickly they will pounce and salivate over the next news story dripping with controversy and rating spikes.  The only way we're going to keep evolving and elevating ourselves past this kind of blissful bigotry is to keep opening our minds, mouths and ears and really connect with each other -- beyond skin colors, ethnicities and race...beyond sexual orientations and religious preferences...beyond mental illnesses, addictions and physical/mental challenges...beyond socioeconomics and class.  There's still a lot of work to be done and every single one of us is a vital piece to solving the brutal puzzle of inequality, discrimination and racism.  Never underestimate the power one person can wield towards making positive change.

***Check out this opinion piece written in the New Yorker today:
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2014/04/donald-sterlings-race-problemand-ours.html

Phrase to ponder for the evening....."Plantation Mind"

Okay.
Trying hard to put my feet down and ground myself.  Things have been really challenging and chaotic for a while....but I'm slowly catching up to things.  Through it all....I've still been tuned into the news of the world around me thanks
to Democracy Now, Mother Jones, AlterNet and other more progressive media.  There's something that's been buzzing in my head for several days now...And I know I'm not the only one watching the sensational insanity of the story go deeper and deeper into a disgusting mess of anger and behavior far beyond dysfunction and mental instability.

Is it the latest "Housewives" reality drama with yet more women battling each other and behaving badly on nationwide -- er, WORLDwide -- tv and all forms of media ??


NO.

Is it another ridiculous installment of that Canuckle-head barely 21 year old
teen-pop-wannabe-gangsta-in-desperate-search-for-street-cred-and-publicity
from the Great White North????

Take off, ay.

-- and, again, NOPE (but I did love how Cartman made the Cthulhu smash him while he sang that damn "Baby, baby..." song on Southpark -- ahhh, good times)



NO.......this is all about the shocking racism and bigoted hate flowing out of the (alleged) mouth of the owner of the LA Clippers.  I could write an intense series of novels (and maybe several research papers) about how I'm feeling
right now, but, like many others, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around all the bizarre info swirling around this (allegedly) hateful man.  I just read the newest litany of his past record of disgusting discrimination touching on the housing controversy he was wrapped up in and other
related racially-tinged barbs flowing out of his mouth.  Here's the latest of what I just read on Yahoo:   http://finance.yahoo.com/news/shockingly-awful-donald-sterling-stories-140632940.html


I can't stop thinking about the phrase "Plantation Mind."  Ever since I heard the (ALLEGED)remarks he crowed about being the reason why his players have things like clothes and houses, admiring their "black bodies" and so much else, I can't help but think about that confused, racist rancher guy in Nevada who Jon Stewart picked apart for his brilliant musings on slavery and knowing "things about the negroes" -- um...yup:

Check out this glorious bit from Stewart's show from last week: http://thedailyshow.cc.com/videos/yg0l9e/the-welfare-rancher-on-the-merits-of-slavery


  I just can't shake it.  The more I think of that NBA owner's (ALLEGED) sick, racist ranting and bigoted past, I can't stop thinking of the brutal "mandingo fighting" scene from Tarantino's Django Unchained.  Wealthy racist owner making his big bucks from watching a team of his predominantly Black men he "owns" through their contracts and other stipulations sweat, work and beat their asses into exhaustion for him?  Don't get me wrong....I've loved watching basketball and other professional sports since I was a kid back in the 70's cheering for the Chicago Bulls, Cubs, Da Bears and the Chicago Sting (our very first soccer team).  I grew up with plenty of kids who would be out playing basketball at local basketball courts til nearly midnight because they were so into their games.  I know there are men who passionately breathe, eat and sleep the sports they play because they adore the game as much as anyone else in the world lucky to be working a job they always dreamed of having.  I know many play for the love of the game, without a doubt.  I just can't help but think of the glaring comparisons I see swirling around this guy -- not to mention the other white wealthy sports team owners out there with similar racist beliefs (anyone remember Marge Schott???).  The more things change...the more they stay the same.  It's time for serious in-depth dialogues and action.  There's no excuse for anyone to be able to get away with this kind of seething bigotry, particularly someone with such strong power over the lives of others.

Has it really been 50 years??

 I originally posted this back in 2012, but the weight and vital importance of Kitty's story is as powerful as ever.   Like many women of a certain age, growing up in the 1970's, we often heard about Kitty as a cautionary tale as we took part in activities after dark -- particularly in urban strongholds like Chicago and New York City.  When we'd dare to ride our bikes and skateboards into the late evening, we'd hear her story.  When we were on our way out, alone, to babysit or work into the late evening, we'd hear her story.  Whenever we went out to punk rock shows, movies or parties into the late night, we'd hear her story.  Whenever we took the subway or bus home late at night by ourselves, we'd hear her story.  And when the time came to move out on our own as post-college young adults into unfamiliar neighborhoods and large apartment buildings, we'd hear her story.

Kitty's presence in this world should never be forgotten.  It's a blinding light reminding us that we should never give in to being ruled by fear, hate and apathy.  She was more than just a Facebook post or a blurb on twitter. She had a life.  Family, friends and a loving life partner.  Dreams, desires and hopes, like any of us dare to believe might come true.

Honor her memory....

 

Dare to give a damn about what's happening right outside your door....and KEEP giving a damn.

On March 13th, 1964, Kitty Genovese was brutally attacked and raped while trying to make it home from her late shift at work.  She would've been almost 80 years old this coming July.  Maybe still living a loving, committed relationship with her partner, Mary Ann...with grown children of their own...and loving grandchildren...or at least a crowd of beloved friends and other loved ones who cared for her as deeply as any of us care for the loved ones around us.  But on March 13th, 1964, her future was violently ripped away from her.  And a very large number of witnesses (some said it was around 38 people) heard her calls for help tucked away inside their safe apartments...but no one responded to her screams.  Not one.

Dare to care about the community you're living in.  Whether it's an apartment building in a densely populated big city or homes in the far-flung suburbs and rural areas, dare to give a damn and get to know the people living near/around you.  Fear, racism, xenophobia and ignorance have a mighty hold on our society that gets worse every day.  It's too easy to sink back behind our burglar bars and security doors and turn the tv or computer volume up to drown out the life around us.  As Kitty's case unfolded, there was no shortage of racist bigots who tried to use her murder as a wedge to keep blacks and whites divided and perpetuating the ideas of wild black men on the loose to rape and kill delicate, white women.  Men of ALL races commit violence, rape and murder against women of every race.  They did in Kitty's time and they STILL do today.  Many people still sink back in the quiet shadows when they see crimes being committed or hear screams outside their windows.  Dare to be different.  Dare to care.  Get to know your neighbors and dare to speak up when you see something bad happening.  Honor Kitty's memory and dare to care about the people in your community and the quality of life around you.

**If you've never heard her story before, please listen to this interview featuring her life partner, Mary Ann Zielonko, who lovingly speaks about her and the life they shared together.  So bittersweet: http://soundportraits.org/on-air/remembering_kitty_genovese/

Freed Activist CeCe McDonald and Actress Laverne Cox Speak Out on Democracy Now!

 No one is free until EVERYONE is free...


CLick the link to watch the interview:
"Black Trans Bodies Are Under Attack": Freed Activist CeCe McDonald, Actress Laverne Cox Speak Out | Democracy Now!

Rest well Bob Casale x0x0x

To those of us of a certain age growing up punk rock in Chicago in the late 70's and early 80's, hearing the word "DEVO" screamed at you out of the loud mouths of various muscle-head jock-offs and liquored-up bigots was pretty much a regular occurrence.  And, ohhhh, those especially colorful days when it was punctuated with the occasional empty/slightly-full bottle of Old Style or Miller High Life being whipped at one's head at a high velocity mid-stride.  Ah, Good times, indeed.  It became quite obvious, that to their sad wee, ignorant minds "Devo" was an uber strange punk-techno-new wave-whatever weird band...soooo, any human being walking around who didn't quite fit the norm -- aka looking like a strange punk-techno-new wave-whatever-kind of weird person -- should OBVIOUSLY be labeled a DEVO and, of course, were only worthy of being shouted at from passing cars or EL platforms.

Still...I wouldn't go back and change one damn thing (well....except for those fast-flying airborne beer bottles and the more combative jockos who felt empowered to try for more up-close interactions, aside from speeding past in their shiny Novas and Pintos).  I was a serious DEVO-tee way back when...right down to sending in for my own red dome and black shirt with white letters.  My love for Devo started with their unbelievable Are We Not Men? We Are Devo! LP.  I'll be honest, by the time I really started to hear the choruses of "HEY-you-effin'-DEVO" being hurled out of those passing Novas and Pintos, I'd already begun to roll my eyes because "Whip It" had begun to climb the charts and play
endlessly on Mtv in 1980.


I still remember watching them on Rock Concert (78 or 79?) in the early days before Mtv and being so in awe of what I saw.  Their experimental/conceptual stuff hit me as hard as the early punk rock/no wave and other underground stuff I had been falling in love with.  I remember how big Pink Floyd's The Wall was in 1979 around the same time as I bought Devo's Duty Now for the Future album.  It was such a huge contrast.  There was no contest in my mind for which band was more progressive and groundbreaking for me.  Punk rock had already blown the doors way off of mainstream music and stadium rock/arena rock shows anyway.  We'd had enough of the 3 minute guitar and drum solos.  Much more radical things were being born. And the 80's had barely started.

    




Bob 2....thank you for helping us all to wake up and think of what having a "beautiful world" could really mean.  Rest well x0x0x

Clubdevo.com / Jules Bates / Artrouble / February 18, 2014)

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/music/posts/la-et-ms-devo-guitarist-bob-casale-dead-20140218,0,4188114.story#ixzz2tkHx4Scm

"Dark Girls" documentary -- A Look At Colorism and Internalized Racism .....

This is a truly thought-provoking and very real documentary
about what it means to be a woman of color in this society, or any others around the world who don't the narrow standards of dominant Anglo/European beauty -- particularly hair texture and skintone/color.  Far too many of us have been drowning and floundering in it since time immemorial.  It's heaped and shoveled from every corner of the media and pop culture.  It festers as long simmering self-hate, colorism and the deep legacies of genocide, colonialism, slavery and lingering structural racism within our communities.  And these issues run just as deep for American Indian, Latina and Asian sisters with darker skintones, as well.


I can't help but think of a sorrowful story my mom used to tell me about my entry into this world in 1967.  She described the Black woman in the hospital bed next to hers and what it was like on the first days they were able to hold their new babies in their arms.  The nurse brought the other woman her newborn around the same time as I was placed into my mom's arms.  My mom said when she looked up at the woman to smile at her and ask how she felt to see her little one, she saw a look on her face that looked like anger and confusion.  She glanced hard at me and then glanced down at the baby in her arms and pushed the child back towards the nurse who gave it to her.  She angrily said "I don't want that dark baby.  I want a light one like hers. I don't want that dark baby."  Mom always said seeing that woman react in such a way was one of the absolute saddest moments in her life.  She also said, for the remainder of her stay in the hospital before she took me home, she never saw the woman ask for her baby or hold her again.





And  Still the stigma burns as bright as the sun.


I've always wondered whatever happened to that child.  Was her mother only suffering from some momentary deep post-partum depression in rejecting her?  Did her mother grow to realize how much she adored her baby and wouldn't want to replace her with any other, no matter how pale or light?  

Or was her rejection the first in a life-long psychological chain-reaction of shame, self-hate, colorism, chronic mental anguish and self-destruction?  

Did she grow into an adult who has continued to perpetuate the same kind of disdain and disgust with her own darker-skinned children/grandchildren, only elevating and praising the lighter-skinned???


I'd like to think that maybe...even in the face of brutal colorism and critical, hateful eyes all around....she grew up to find an endless well of strength, self-love and self-acceptance within herself.  And maybe even the inspiration to take a powerful stand like the sisters in this film and break the cycle of stigma and hate.


Look and listen with your heart and mind.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAmBIZBPeIE
(The doc used to be available at YouTube, but it's now broken into segments on their site....if you'd like to see the entire doc also check out NetFlix -- As of June 2014, it's streaming on their site now)

To all of my dear sisters...On this Valentines Day and all other days....

Curvy, thin, pimples, quiet, chubby, short, tall, weird, freckles, short hair, NO Hair,pudgy, flat-chest, wide-nosed, stringy hair, big boobs, saggy boobs, lanky, single, KINKY hair, awkward, skinny-nosed, full lips, thin lips, brainy, TOP-heavy, frizzy hair, bottom-heavy, pale, thin hair, stretch marks, dark skinned, outspoken, thick, light skinned, chunky, flat butt, big butt, younger, OLDER -- ALL OF THIS AND SO MUCH MORE????   



You are perfect.

You are beautiful.

You are enough.

You are priceless, unique and amazing....just as you are. 

A little Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings a day chases the blahs away.....

 If you haven't already discovered this amazing group by now....consider this a major nudge in their direction....

Here's for all the love-sick girls and boys who've closed the doors on unhealthy, dysfunctional fellas (and gals) in their romantic lives...yet still manage to bump into them at all the wrong times all over town.

Raise your voice and stomp your feet...

A little ease and peace to start the week off.......just breathe.

Love you Thom x0x0x



          

Destigmatizing Depression and Bipolar Disorder....

I can't say enough about the impact Dr. Kay Redfield Jamison's work has had on me in facing my own mental illness struggles with Complex PTSD and Bipolar Disorder.  



Wherever we are on our Wellness and Recovery journeys.....Speak up....Speak out.




         

I keep thinking....

Naloxone.  Narcan.  

What if????

What if....it was more easily available?
What if....it could be part of safe-use kits in the hands of heroin users and those who might be able to help them survive an overdose?

I keep thinking about Philip Seymour Hoffman.
And I keep thinking about my friends 
Jess
Micha
Ratzzo
Rebecca
Boo
Davey
Seamus....
all of them were addicted to heroin
and all of them overdosed on it.

It's been over 30 years later and I still miss them. Sometimes, it's too painful to think about.  Too many broken sweet souls with brilliant minds who never had a solid grasp on recovery from heroin and the hope for a clear path to a life worth living without dope.  Like so many others, they left this world way too young.
Way too young.

....while their dealers, pimps and other drooling abusers and parasites walked away alive and scott-free.  And now they pop-up on social media walls in search of absolution and so much else.
It turns my stomach and makes my heart ache and bleed. That's a major reason why I closed my MySpace, Facebook and others.  I'm tired of social networks and the slime who've tried to contact me to make connections we never had in the stretch of any imagination.  
Acting as if the dusty past is long forgotten and they should now only be judged on who they are in the present. 
  
My friends should still be here.
They should all still be here.

I remember hot Chicago and New York summers, long, passionate conversations over cold Mickey's Wide Mouths and PBR.  Seriously joking or joking seriously about growing old together and going to punk shows with our walkers, canes and Depends....and none of us ever thought we'd make it past 25, let alone 30.  

In my teen to young adult years in the 80's and 90's, my main issues were trying to spin and balance jagged plates of Complex PTSD, anxiety, sweeping manias and bottom-heavy depressions with drinking as my main mode of self-medication.  In the early years of my drinking, I could be a damn fine functional alcoholic.  While there were plenty of incidents where I had my public stumbles, I had ways of hiding my self-medicating.  There are still some people I know who think I had it all together, but that was the beauty of being able to smile and try to be someone else while hiding the horrible, stinking truth.  As the years wore on, though, the veils began to shred and the masks began to crumble.  I finally hit my  major bottom with alcohol in 2009 and I've been managing my recovery ever since.   The big turning point for me in my mental health recovery and wellness shifted in 2005 with a major life-threatening episode.  I've been struggling with a lot of heavy issues and challenges, and some have knocked me down harder than ever, but I'm still here. Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) and WRAP (Wellness Recovery Action Plans) have been the major lifesavers that keep me afloat. I'm working hard on managing my wellness and recovery journey, one moment at a time.

We were all trying to numb and soothe ourselves.  I can't speak for anyone other than what my friends and I struggled with, but the majority of us were survivors of brutal and long-term child abuse and sexual abuse.  And we were all very smart/precocious kids.  Those were 2 serious common threads I saw that tied us together.  Like me, some of my friends used excessive drinking to self-medicate.  But others found their balm in the hot bottom of a bottle cap and the slow push of a needle.

So many times over the years, I've gotten stuck on the thought of what if having ready, easy to access doses of Naloxone could've saved so many lives of heroin users who fell into overdoses?  How many of my friends would still be here??  It's not that complicated of an idea, is it??  Granted, there's no way to perfectly guarantee error-free scenarios and textbook methods that will save every addict in the same perfect way...but it doesn't hurt to have a simple survival action plan for safe-use that includes doses of Naloxone/Narcan.  

How long will it take to make this a reality??

What if????


http://odprevention.org/for-providers/what-is-narcan1/ 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naloxone 





Knowledge is power. 

Some thoughts....checking-in on Wellness and Recovery....

No matter where we are on our journeys in this strange, strange world, we are all in some state/level of "recovery."  Whether it's "recovery" from drugs..."recovery" from traumatic events (no matter how near or far from where we are in the present)...."recovery" from chronic mental illness...."recovery" from unhealthy/abusive relationships...."recovery" from excessive gambling/food/sex addiction or compulsive shopping/overspending...or even "recovery" from having been laid off from jobs, facing a devastating financial catastrophe or experiencing the recent death of a loved one (and often the unresolved long-term grief for a lost loved one), ALL of US are in some state of "recovery." 


Far too often, whenever I hear the ripples of reaction to the tragic drug o.d.'s of people in the public eye, I've always been troubled by the way so many rush to negatively judge and stigmatize the person in crisis.  Walking the roads of Recovery and Wellness aren't just a short-term, jiffy-pop destination for most of us.  It's a life-long journey, and the wisest among us know that it's not a clear-cut linear sprint.  No matter what anyone says, no matter how much money someone has in their pocket, no matter what color their skin and eyes are or what god(s) they pray to, we are all not that far away from each other as we try to sort through what it means to be human in this life.



How do you cope????  How do any of us get through the stress of  just one 24 hour day of our lives??  Have you ever paused to think of what it takes for you to make it through??  Do you gulp that hot 20 ounce cup of java in your go-cup on the run to the subway, pop the ipod on and zone-out for the hour-long AM commute?  Are you able to completely distract and shut-out the bickering and petty ramblings of co-workers and amped-up levels of drama that rise and fall throughout the day like a jagged rollercoaster?  Are you constantly zoning-out on your phone/tablet and social media throughout the day, all day long???  Are you able to stand in line for 2 hours at your local food pantry in the cold and misting rain, run to a job interview on the other side of town on slow public transit and then have to go back across town and stand in another line at the social security office for 2 more hours?  How do you cope with difficult issues and extreme chaos in your life??  What positive supports do you have around you??  Who do you confide in when you find yourself in crisis?  Do you keep things to yourself?  Do you feel weak or ashamed to let others know that you're not feeling a 100%? Do you have a plan for how you will stay safe while you're in crisis?  How do you cope with the even more chaotic and painful challenges life throws at you??  Can you relate to how it feels to relapse after a very long period of sobriety after being triggered by an issue/event/anniversary or a nagging self-critical thought?


So many of us come from brutal, invalidating environments where we were consistently shamed and stigmatized for feeling certain emotions.  Learning how to cope with trauma, stress and difficult feelings without self-destructing is a chronic, life-long journey into Wellness and Recovery.   There is no shame.  There is no stigma.  There is no "quick fix" or perfect pill.  We're not alone in trying to figure out who we are and how to sit with chaos that we can't change and try to embrace a life worth living.  We are survivors.  Every day is a chance to learn and gain self-awareness.  When slips and falls happen, the key isn't to drown in shame and isolation.  Even as low and as ruined as we may feel....There is hope.  But we can't do it alone.  





      

 Rest well, Philip.  This world is so much richer because of you sharing your incredible creative gifts.  You were brilliant and unique in this world.  We were blessed to have you for the time you were here.
You will be missed more than words can ever say..but your art will last forever x0x0      

It's been a very....long.....week.

Enough said.



      
   

Just finished watching and digesting the State of the Union speech....

Really need this vid right now to ease my unquiet mind.

                      

A quiet moment for your busy subway ride.....

If you've never seen it, Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire is a cinematic treasure that deserves to be seen again and again.  This subway scene is one of my favorite pieces of the film.  We all know how it feels to be so distracted....so lost in thought, worry, and emotional spirals.  Sometimes....all seems insurmountable and impossible...but then at the turn of a thought...like a feather-light whisper in our ear....we find a solution...and some hope to get through the next moment.


http://youtu.be/2izlo8UX_PA



 

No matter what they say...or how much they try to divide us....We are all ONE.

I'm back.



Listen with your eyes.....