A Goddamn Tape Won’t Change a Thing

To Do List: Win Win Again Win Some More

Despite the fact that it is now 81 days until the most important midterm elections of our lifetimes and there are approximately 5,624,278 stories that are vastly more important right now, it’s been #OmarosaWeek all damn week. The entire commentariat class has been all a-Twitter (pun intended) about the purported existence of a recording of TrumPutin using the n-word.

Leaving aside the fact that recording anything in a SCIF is STRICTLY forbidden (speaking of people who should have their clearances yanked…), THIS DOES NOT MATTER ONE WAY OR THE OTHER.

We ALREADY HAVE recordings of TrumPutin calling Mexicans rapists, mocking people with disabilities, and bragging about sexually assaulting women. It didn’t change a goddamn thing.

If it walks like a bigot, and quacks like a bigot, it’s a bigot.

(Oh, and to black folks who are like, “In an era of gaslighting, we are being gaslit squared here!” what will all the white folks demanding YET MORE PROOF that TrumPutin is a horrible bigoted dumpster fire of an excuse for a human, let me just take a moment to validate your experience: You’re right.)

TrumPutin could call a press conference in the Rose Garden and do nothing but scream every single racist, sexist, homophobic epithet of Jason Kessler and the neo-Nazi trolls of 4chan, 8 chan, and Reddit’s most fevered imaginings, and it wouldn’t make a goddamn difference.

38% of the overall electorate would still support him. 80+% of Republicans would still think he’s doing a bang up job.

These people are the very definition of lost causes. TrumPutin was right – he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and they wouldn’t care, as long as that someone was female, brown, LGBT, or all of the above.

You know what DOES matter?

  • The 53% of my fellow idiot white women who voted for this monster in 2016 who now are like, “DURRR DURRR DURRR Maybe that was a bad idea.” You think so, you dumb fucking bitch? Get it right this time.
  • The 7% of African-Americans who turned out in 2012 and stayed home in 2016. Where y’all at?
  • The 65% of Democrats who routinely ignore any election that isn’t a presidential one, and who even then only bother to show up for a “HE’S DREAMY” candidate they can LUUUUUURVE (“HE” intentional). WHERE ARE Y’ALL AT?!?!?
  • The roughly 8 million Americans who’ve turned 18 since November 9, 2016 and are now eligible to vote for the first time.
  • The nearly 8 million jackasses who voted third party in 2016. Yo, dumbasses: The GOP is funding third party candidates, including your beloved Green Party candidates. Way to play yourselves while fucking the rest of us.

Screw Omarosa and her stupid tapes. If there were any justice, her 15 minutes would have been up years ago. She’s a deplorable human being, as is every single person who ever has worked, currently works, or ever will work for TrumPutin. Ignore her.

What have you done to support Democratic candidates at the local, state, and national level today? What have you done to register new voters today? What have you done to GOTV today? What will you do tomorrow?

Keep your eyes on the prize.

Image found here.

Like what you read? Follow me on Twitter @MrsWhatsit1.

The Magical Resistance Is Everywhere

By the way, are you registered to vote? Deadlines to register are coming up fast in some states.  You can register (and check that your registration is still valid) here.

Sleepy Time Down South

There’s this thing that happens in the August days after Lughnasadh and before Labor Day (you know, the major ecclesiastic and secular holidays).  Somehow, the days begin to stretch out, even as the hours of daylight continue to shrink.  I wake relaxed in the morning and seem to have as much time as I want to drink coffee on the porch with the cats.  Summer’s bounty spills onto the counter — tomatoes, corn, squash, plums — and Autumn’s plenty begins to make its appearance:  a few apples here, a ripe pear there, goat cheese wrapped in leaves, and a pot of the first hot vegetable soup of the season.  When it rains tomorrow, I’ll be glad of the warmth.

I made Chinese chopped chicken salad for friends this weekend and had cabbage left over so there’s now a big jar of my first attempt at sauerkraut sitting on the counter.  This time of year seems to welcome experiments; if you fail, there’s still time to start over.  It was sauerkraut or compost.  I used to have a recipe for the most delicious cream of cabbage soup, but I don’t seem to be able to find it, even online.  So, sauerkraut it is.  I keep reading that fermented foods such as sauerkraut are good for my internal flora (but probably not the way my mother used to fix it, seasoned with brown sugar).

The major work in the garden just now seems to be pulling things out and, I admit, yesterday I got a bit of help — OK a lot of help — from a local college student doing jobs to pay for his books.  He pulled all the invasive stuff out of my Eastern bed, which has been the bane of my existence this Summer:  needing work and being almost too overwhelming.  That left me free to pull crabgrass and wood sorrel out of the herb bed which is now pristine.

The cats are happy when I come in with some catmint in my pockets.  Merlin noses me and paws at my pockets while Nimue goes for the kill and pulls the leaves (and flowers — I’m trying to keep it from going to seed and spreading and they’re as happy to eat the flowers as the leaves) right out.  Before our first frost, I’ll probably pull it out of the ground and put it in a pot.  Meanwhile, I’m still trying to get rid of the lemon mint that I foolishly planted years ago.  That stuff will be here long after human civilization gives up the ghost.  That, and bindweed, with its pristine white flowers.   I’ve heard rumors of gardeners who use medical needles to inject saline solution into the stems and — mea culpa — I am fascinated.  I’ve pulled lemon mint out of my front beds, out of the grass at the steps of my deck, out from the strip of dirt behind the air conditioner and don’t get me started on bindweed, although I do save that for later work.

I’m trying to figure out whether sand or mulch would be better for me to push into the spaces between the stones in the patio around my fire pit to keep out the weeds.  It’s been too wet this Summer for any fires, but I’m hopeful for Autumn.  I have a few things that need burning . . . .

By evening, the cats and I are back on the porch, me with a G&T and the cats with a cricket that Nimue caught and is unwilling to share with Merlin.  He sulks and then pretends to catch cricket after cricket to show that he, too, is a mighty hunter.  She is not amused.   I am sorry for the cricket, but not enough to rescue it.  Nature is red in tooth and claw.

I’m reading hard and painful things:  books about Nazi use of the occult and a new book about chaos magicians who support Trump.  Before bed, I soak in the hot tub and watch the meteors, then sage myself to keep the evil out of my dreams.

The nights this time of year lend themselves to open windows, a small fan beside my bed, deep darkness.  You can hear the cicadas (a sure sign of Summertime in the South) and, often as not, hear rain falling on the roof.  The Virginia landbase rises up and calls to me, enfolds me, calls me its daughter.  The rivers of Virginia are full just now — we’ve had such heavy rainfall — and in my dreams I am floating down them,  floating down from the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains to the smooth land below Great Falls and on down to the Cheseapeake Bay.   This is the time of year to sit on the porch and pick crabs with friends and family, to eat icy watermelon, to watch butterflies and bees dance among the purple flowers of the inaptly-named obedient plants.

On the one hand, just now, everything is terrible. On the other hand, Virginia summers are as blessed as Virginia summers almost always are.  My landbase and I are having the conversation we’ve long had and the waxing Moon shines on the paths between the lirope and the hostas as it has long shone.

May it be so for you.

 

Monday at the Movies

So, this is worth it for the views of Guernsey, an island between England and France (and one of the very few bits of England actually invaded by Nazis).  You’ll know the shot of a land-based yoni and Mound of Venus when you see it.  That said, it’s pretty predictable; I won’t ruin anything for most viewers when I tell you that, yes, she winds up with the pig farmer instead of the rich Yank.  You know what would be interesting?  A story where it works the other way, and you understand why, and it’s not a “settling” story.

And the few scenes depicting the actual book club meetings make me long for the book club I had before the Trump Interregnum made us all have to focus on more serious matters.  Also, I sewed that dress, from a Vogue pattern in golden velvet, and I would mostly kill to have it back.

The Magical Battle for America 8.12.18

new-torch-and-flame-with-manhattan-skyline-in-background-december-17-1985-statue-of-liberty_add19202-55ec-4855-96f8-f3eb429ad07e

For today’s working, you’re going to want to know who is running for office in your district for the Nov. 6th election.  Senator?  Congressperson? Town Council?  Board of Ed?  Secretary of State?  Attorney General?  It varies from place to place, but a quick Google (check the page of your local Democratic Party) search should give you a list of the people running for the relevant positions.  You’re also going to want to know what your State flag looks like and perhaps a few other state symbols.  What’s your State flower?  Bird?  Food?

*********************************

Now’s probably a good time to remind everyone to check/refresh the wards on your home or wherever you do this work.  Be sure that you’re rested, grounded, and in a comfortable position.  Maybe wrap up in a blanket or cloak and grasp a stone or talisman that matters to you.  Grow your roots, send them deep into the soil, let them intertwine and grow small hairs to attach to the mycelia in your own landbase.

Breathe.

Anchor yourself firmly to your landbase.  Notice a small detail that will call you back when this working is finished.

Ground and center.  Cast a circle.

Breathe.

As you move to our American plain on the astral plane, you can see again the safe hillock where you do your work.  You can see the five giant banners, shining in the sky: Walden Pond, the Underground Railroad, the Cowboy, the Salmon, and Lady Liberty.  Do they seem more defined since we began our work? Do they have anything special to tell you this week?

For a few moments, just sit on your hillock and allow yourself to become comfortable.  This place should be feeling very real to you by now; we’ve been working together to create it for months and months.  What’s become familiar to you?  A tuft of prairie grass?  Buffalo off in the distance?  The scent of sand carried on the wind?  You’ve been involved in a months-long magical working here, joined with magic workers from across the globe.  Feel your connection to this place on the astral plane. It is always here for you, always a source of strength.

As you look to the North, the Lady Liberty banner begins to glow and to grow larger and larger until it fills the entire sky.  It becomes three-dimensional and you step onto the boat moving across the harbor towards Lady Liberty.  From the deck, you watch as her torch grows brighter and brighter.  One of the rays of light shines on your own state/territory/city.  It picks out the Democrats running for office and their supporters.  The bright light covers them with a glamour and a web of protection.  You see each of them holding the flag of your state/territory/city.  Does it have Goddesses on it?  First Peoples?  Important geographical features?  Historical symbols?  What does the flag tell you about your landbase and about the election coming on Tuesday, November 6th?

One of Lady Liberty’s rays shines on you, too, and you see that you are are waving your flag, holding high the symbol of all that is best about your state/territory/city.  Her light shimmers and the other symbols of your place float around you, adding to the power you feel to influence your local election.  Is that your state bird perching on your arm?  Are the petals from your state flower floating onto the water around your boat?  Is your city’s motto painted on the bow of the boat?  Can you hear your state song playing in the distance?

Use your flag to point to the candidates and their supporters.  Envision a gigantic blue wave of Democratic votes sweeping over your landbase and on to Washington, D.C.  See how your place contributes to this blue wave that will wash our country clean of Trump, fascists, racists, Nazis, and sexists.  You may feel called to sing this wave into being, to dance to it, to drum or chant for it, to breathe in short bursts to empower it.  Once you have raised this energy, direct it down your arm, into the flag, and out over your state/territory/city.  Send the energy to the Democrats running for office.

Now, see either the First Peoples of your place, or historical ancestors from your place, or those who went from your place to fight Nazis in WWII.  Ask them to work with those running for office in order to take our country back from the Nazis.  You may feel called to pour an offering of rum, or bourbon, or wine for these ancestors.  You may feel called to visit their graves and place flowers.  You may feel an urge to check out a book from your local library and learn more about them.

Now, stop for a moment and connect with the energy of your place, with the First Peoples of your place, with the ancestors of your place.  Ask them to guide you towards the practical actions you can take to ensure a blue wave, a Democratic victory on November 6th.  Thank them for the guidance.

Now, breathe.

Turn the boat around and sail out of the Lady Liberty banner to your hillock on the plains.

Slowly, come down and begin to walk back to your own landbase.

Open your eyes.  Rub your arms and face.  Notice the detail that you selected to call yourself back.  Drink something; for me, here in Virginia, it will be a glass of icy cold milk.  Have something to eat; for me, here in Virginia, it will be an apple from Winchester.

I encourage you to do two things this week.  First, begin to take the practical actions that were suggested in your working.  Second, set up a small altar for this election.  You can include your flag, some dirt from an historic site, your flower, a picture of or feather from your bird, and a list of the candidates you will support.  You can place on your altar candles that echo the colors of your flag.  You may want to repeat this working several times this week.  You may want to journal about it.  Are you inspired to make any art? If you’re willing, please share in comments what happened and how this working went.

Picture found here.

Imagine

renoir-luncheon-boating-party

Imaginary Political Boyfriend:  Justin Trudeau

Imaginary Gardening Boyfriend:  Monty Don

Imaginary Literary Boyfriend:  Peter Whimsey

Imaginary Detective Boyfriend:  Luther

Imaginary Artist Boyfriend:  Maxfield Parrish

Imaginary Ballet Boyfriend:  Chi Cao

Imaginary Poet Boyfriend:  Rumi

Imaginary SciFi Boyfriend:  Mr. Spock

Imaginary Lawyer Boyfriend:  Atticus Finch

Imaginary Farmer Boyfriend:  Wendell Berry

Imaginary Musical Boyfriend:  Winston Marsalis

Imaginary Spy Boyfriend:  The One Who Drinks His Martinis Shaken, Not Stirred

Imaginary Mythologist Boyfriend:  Martin Shaw

**************

Imaginary Gay Buddies:  Mole, Rat, & Toad

I Would Switch Teams For:  Hellen Mirren, Judi Dench, Emma Thompson, Maxine Waters

BFFs:  Dorothy Parker, Evangeline Pankhurst, Hillary Clinton, Mary Shelley, Jane Morris, Robin Morgan, M.F.K. Fisher, Diana Vreeland

Dinner Party for Only Six:  Dorothy Parker, Leonard Cohen, Robbie Burns, Hillary Clinton, Churchill, Hatshepsut

Dinner Another Night:  Mitochondrial Eve, The First Woman to Place Her Handprint on the Walls of a Cave in Europe, Empress Wu, Elizabeth I, Sacagawea, Madeline L’Engle

Brunch on the Porch:  Rhyd Widermouth, Peter Grey, Michael Hughes, Sarah Anne Lawless, Sylvia Linsteadt, Byron Ballard

Cocktails in the Garden:  Diotima Mantineia, Joanna Colbert, Wilma Mankiller, Dorothy Sayers, Joan Baez, Gwendolyn Brooks, Robert Muller, James Baldwin, Van Morrison, Deray McKesson, Gus Dizerega, Charles Williams

*************

Now, your turn.

Picture found:  here.

 

 

 

Let’s Go Over This One More Time

giphy

I’m likely preaching to the choir, but after this week’s special election in Ohio, it feels as if I need to say this again.  What happened in Ohio, you ask?  Well, in a special Congressional election, in a district that has been Republican for ages, Democratic candidate Danny O’Connor did incredibly well.  There are still absentee and provisional votes to count, but, Danny, right now, is a mere 1,564 votes behind Republican, Troy Balderson.  Green Party candidate Joe Manchick got 1,129 votes, just 435 votes short of the difference between the Democrat and the Republican.

So, first, what happened in Ohio is that the Green Party candidate has, quite likely, thrown the election to the Republican.  Just as with the Green Party votes that threw the 2000 election to George W. Bush and just as with the Green Party votes that threw the 2016 election to Donald Trump, Ohio’s Green Party voters have helped to ensure that Congress can’t act as an effective brake on Trump’s mad dash to American fascism.

Why?

Wikipedia says that the Green Party supports:

specifically environmentalism, nonviolence, social justice, participatory, grassroots democracy, gender equality, LGBT rights, anti-war and anti-racism. On the political spectrum, the party is generally seen as left-wing. 

Trump and today’s Republican Party are specifically opposed to all of those objectives.  Trump is repealing environmental protections, recently re-allowing the use of the poison asbestos in buildings.  He advocates violence at his rallies and does all that he can to undermine social justice.  The Republican Party makes voting difficult, hindering grassroots democracy, and actively opposes gender equality and LGBT rights.  It promotes war and Trump is objectively pro-racism.  So why would anyone who supports the goals of the Green Party cast a vote designed to keep Trump and his party in power?

At some point, people need to begin to live in the real world.  General elections in the U.S. are binary choices.  An election is not about feeling pure, “sending a message,” voting for the candidate who “inspires” you, or selecting the “ideal” candidate.  General elections in this country, for the foreseeable future, are about defeating Republicans and electing Democrats.  You know, keeping the Nazis out of power and putting into office people who are not Nazis.  Vote for the most progressive person in the primaries — I sure do.  But in the general election, you need to vote for the Democrat and ignore the other options.  And, given Russian interference in our elections and Republican efforts to prevent people of color, young people, women, etc. from voting, this is true regardless of how blue or red your district may be.

Second, what happened in Ohio is that thousands and thousands of voters stayed home and didn’t bother to vote.  That is citizenship malpractice.  We cannot afford to ignore these special elections, midterm elections, primaries, etc.  We cannot afford to ignore ANY elections.  Everyone opposed to fascism must register to vote and then turn out and actually vote.  Ohio, in particular, makes if fairly easy to vote absentee or early, in case you have to work on election day, are traveling, or have responsibilities that may make it difficult to get to the polls on election day.  You can find out the rules for your own state here.

November 6th is coming and that’s the big enchilada, but Ohio’s special election would have been a great pick-up for those of us opposed to Trump and it’s frustrating to watch Green Party votes and non-voters hand the election to Trump’s forces.

Picture found here.