I don’t know if I will get to all 11 from my catalog but at least I got to two more. From the original catalog I did in the 1980s. I wanted fans to at least get an organized sense of what we had to offer. I find it delightfully youthful and fanatical as a 65-year-old woman to read these. We were all into the punk scene and loved it madly. I was about 25 when I made this up.
Do you remember those art films you watched in class in elementary school. They got me to wondering just like a mystery or scary film. So, I decided to engage those memories with my own art mineral film.
Youngest son had to go study minerals and gems … a fun day at the LA Museum but both the LA Memorial Coliseum and Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County are surrounded by poverty and such a treacherous drive to get there.
The duality of life is witnessed! Many older women wait at the bus stop, as fast cars cut corners in the pursuit of oblivion? Strange dark corners in old broken apartments hold desperation or reflection as I see!
In return the big rich donors to the museum are great, as the surrounding community lacks such concern!
Happy unaware children and babies and a history of preservation even on a hooked tip of a once weaponized airplane!
If women and men and all those in between and around, don’t fight for their rights, be it small or major world changing … unfortunately there are nut jobs ready to take over the world in a very unfair, crazy, and fascist way. Most of them have lost their ability to discern and hold to a propaganda or support system that is a dark, fear inspired, hate and stupidity blended homogeneous in their coffee coffee. They are drinking it down…
No American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.
~ Richard Nixon
Dorothea: What is that?
Abbie: It’s The Raincoats.
Dorothea: Can’t things just be pretty?
Jamie: Pretty music is used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is.
Dorothea: Ah, okay so… they’re not very good, and they know that, right?
Abbie: Yeah, it’s like they’ve got this feeling, and they don’t have any skill, and they don’t want skill, because it’s really interesting what happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it. It creates this energy that’s raw. Isn’t it great?
~ 20th Century Women
When I was growing up my dad would not let us talk politics, religion, or science fiction. We lived in a male dominated world and that was how it was. When the 70’s hit things started to change. When the civil rights movement grasped the main media in the late 1960s and the women’s rights movement in the 1970s, it changed the main media exchange and life became a real lesson on our human rights.
“Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), was a landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in which the Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States generally protects a pregnant woman’s liberty to choose to have an abortion.”
As a young lady Planned Parenthood clinics became available to us all over the USA and beyond.
“Planned Parenthood has received federal funding since 1970, when President Richard Nixon signed into law the Family Planning Services and Population Research Act, amending the Public Health Service Act. Title X of that law provides funding for family planning services, including contraception and family planning information. The law had support from both Republicans and Democrats. Nixon described Title X funding as based on the premise that “no American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.”
I have a friend who I grew up with who plays by the extreme conservative playbook. Where civil rights and a woman’s rights are changing for the worst. She did not want to have children, so she consciously got sterilized. When I was about 18 after being group raped and then having an abortion, I too almost took that measure. Yet I am glad I did not. I now have two sons that I can’t imagine living life without.
Now in some states she could not have that right to choose, nor I for that matter. God did not strike us down for our decisions.
Yet now she supports a political agenda hurriedly ascending to take away those rights, well it does not make sense.
It is like seeing a big image of Nixon on the back of a stage with Kari Lake foaming at the mouth with her anti humanity propaganda. They don’t make sense. It is absurd.
How do you reason with a drunk dad who is calling you a moron when you want to watch Star Trek.? You can’t.
20th Century Women (2016) was not a big film, but it holds a high degree of foresight about what was coming and is right upon us now, again. It tells a narrative rich and believable and endearing. And yes, I got to work with the production to share a image but it is an image that is endearing to me.
It was my story about being a woman in the late 1970s and how one image was used, and I never got credit for it, until in the ending credits of this awesome film. I could not think of a better way to achieve my goal. Which makes the film so special to me and that I took my two boys to see it when they both were still living at home. A special time to teach my boys about women, civil rights, and the early punk scene. But most importantly about what it is like being a mom.
In conclusion as a mama, punk, one who supports civil rights and a woman’s right to choose, to one who wants national healthcare for all, I just had to set the scene straight… there is something off here in the time we are witnessing, and it is not good.
In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.
Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.
The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.
I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.
Taking morning walks is something different too.
When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.
I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”
I will let the angel be.
I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.
Taken from The Terrible Death Bubble Gum Comic A Flopside COmic!
“The Double does not exist only as an Ahrimanic shadow in individual men. There are members in this Doppelgänger sub-hierarchy of far greater power who act as the anti-spirits of peoples, nations, and races. And finally, there is the World Doppelgänger, the Anti-Spirit of Humanity, which plays its historic role as a servant of Lucifer in opposing the rightful evolution of human consciousness.”
Pg. 291 The Spear of Destiny, Trevor Ravenscroft
Friday night was time to go out and celebrate cause my man was winning a Chess tournament online. Youngest son, my man and I made three.
We went to the local Pub and then bar to celebrate properly.
We played darts at the Pub and had some healthy “Humulus lupulus” while listening to real records. The hiss and scratches and well listened to 45s made the music more enjoyable to me. Soul and ska and other melodies moved through the Pub and lots of hugs were shared.
At the next-door bar, we had some cocktails and enjoyed the slow ambiance of a well-loved bar. Nice and easy with an anime film on the screen. A break from the usual sports in most bars.
As we were finishing up, I looked over to see a man with a beard. Brown and rather friendly looking. We smiled in what I thought was a happy nod of enjoyment. He came up to us as my youngest son got up to take care of business. Then the man walked over to my man and me.
“Not just Jews were killed in WWII by the Nazis.”
We responded with a knowing agreement. Then he went on.
“My great grandfather saved a whole lot of people. Christians mostly and not many Jews.”
Seems this guy was reflecting upon his grandfather and WWII.
“You liberals think it was only Jews. You who voted for Biden and Kamala Harris!”
We then got a little confused and I said,
“How do you know who we voted for?”
Then he addressed me directly,
“Who did you vote for?”
“None of your business!”
We batted that back and forth a few moments.
Then came the flip into a world of conspiracies and insanity when he looked at me and addressed me singularly.
“You liberal voting people think only the Jews were killed in concentration camps. But you are the real Nazis.”
“How do you go from talking about WWII and then accuse me of being a Nazi?”
I then put my hand on the table with a whack. Telling him about how my dad got a purple heart as a captain pilot during WWII.
“I respect that you grandfather saved many lives during the war from concentration camps. Yes, there were all sorts of people who died there, and the people were also saved. Gypsies, Christians, Jewish people, I really don’t think it mattered who you were or your faith. Hitler killed anyone opposed to his belief system of inhumanness.”
The man with the beard seemed filled with total contrary ideas that made no sense but only served to confuse and attack others who he found offensive. He is one of the ministers of chaos. Who spreads their hate talk.
It was a really sad moment of the evening, and when he told me he did not give a fuck about Iranian women’s demands for freedom I turned my back to him and walked away with hands up.
Youngest son confused him by saying,
“I didn’t vote for Biden.” (Just to see the bearded mans confused expression of an unexpected answer.) And added,
“Thanks for the story.”
Nothing that going to Denny’s didn’t wash away mighty fast…
At Denny’s youngest son was laughing and said,
“I was staring at the tiles in the bathroom and then I walked out, and you were talking to this guy. It was a weird thing to walk into….”
He really enjoyed the people we met last night between the pub and the bar.
These chaos ministers are a part of
WE THE PEOPLE,
They are out there,
and it is something to be aware of,
Even at the local bar.
“Alister Crowley adopted different identities when the mood struck him-and, like Trump, did his best to keep his name in the newspapers-and chaos magick asserts that one’s identity is malleable, that one should “reinvent’ oneself often, play different roles. We should pretend to be someone else, to envision a “magical self” possessing all the qualities that we desire, something that some New Thought advocates also suggest . Chaos magick also promotes the idea of using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power,” something that, as with much else about chaos magick, seems to come to Trump naturally.”
Pg. 76-77, Dark Star Rising, Gary Lachman
Does George Santos ring a bell? He is an manifestation of this “Crazy Wisdom” of “Chaos magic!”
Seems it is what it is.
In a bar in the San Fernando Valley California to the House of Representatives
bewildering our beloved District of Columbia,
these dark spirits or anti-humans are hanging around,
Will our female representatives engage in “mischievous” crossover voting for the good of WE THE PEOPLE?
Mr. Fuck came out of his Bomb Shelter. From up in a tree, he watched through the window into the neighbor’s TV the endless votes in the House of Representatives. He saw that they were overwhelmed with dysfunction. Then a car drove by blaring a song. Mr. Fuck knew the song by John Lennon / Paul McCartney.
“Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right, or I am wrong.
While you see it your way
There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.
We can work it out,
We can work it out.”
He thought about the women in the House of Representatives, and he knew what he had to do.
“Mr. Crap how about bringing out those watercolors? Also ask Hudley for some watercolor paper.”
“I am on it,” said Mr. Shit.
Miss Opossum in the tree nudged Mr. Fuck saying,
“If Mrs. Racoon and I can work it out so can the ‘human females.’ ”
“Tell Hudley we need some brushes too. Also a few beers, a couple shots of Jameson whiskey and a big pot of coffee.”
“Don’t forget the half & half and honey, “said Mrs. Racoon.
On Fallbrook and Victory in the San Fernando Valley
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Life is so contrary and beginning and ending all the time. The stars seem stable, as they dance their astrological dance. The moon and sun and seasons are very dependable but not the storms or the opposite whispers of joy and enlightenment we may find. This earth will always be a contrary place sweetened with continuity and music.
Yesterday before the rain, Sara and oldest son walked over from their apartment. They are counting their steps. Later they left and we decided to join them halfway on their journey home. A longer walk than my usual mile per day.
It was easy all the way until we said goodbye and then we walked slowly onward, and we headed home, husband, youngest son, and I.
Would we get something to eat?
“No, it is past 6 PM and I don’t like eating much after then.”
That is what they get for always asking what MAMA wants.
On the way with Sara and oldest son I noticed a broken book on the ground. The pages danced below our feet for a long while.
I picked up three of the pages as a focused random moment of finding something wandering and enlightening me from the dirty street of trash. On this dark cold evening of winter.
A man was covered with such trash in the middle of the sidewalk next to the shopping mall and restaurants. He was pretending to sleep as cars raced by and we walked around him.
I sadly declared.
“He is going to get mighty wet when the rain hits?”
Husband quickly responded,
“He is most likely waiting for the shopping mall to close down. I am sure he has a safe place there.”
My feet got sore, and my back ached and howled as we headed home.
Now today I read the book pages tossed on the ground like leaves in a storm.
One thing that stood out were the lyrics for a song.
The pages are filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Someone was looking for their roots, history, and family.
I thought about my own family history. I think this is a push to get going with my own pages filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Hope from lyrics. A song inspiring us to dance to the hopeful dream of music.
You must be logged in to post a comment.