20 December 2006

odd man out

the fourth story, the odd man out is about to get re-scripted.
need new context for the werewolf tale.

i think i'll take it out of africa.... bring it down south. where i can fix all the problems i see with it now. we'll see what happens when i add the bird clan..... i'm tired of vampires fighting werewolves. we need a third party to step in.

lemme check this mvscogee/creek legend before i go any further.......

18 December 2006

excerpt from Bottletree Diaries anthology

from Nightingale

Although there was a hell of a lot more money to be made working weekends in the coroner's office, Josephine couldn't bring herself to leave the all-glamorous world of bartending. Ok, so all her friends worked during the day, that is, the ones who counted did. They always seemed to call the minute she would be leaving to go to work, with some invitation to some fabulous party uptown that would be supposedly crawling with freaks. rat bastards. all of them. fine. i didn't really want to go anyway.

Being there allowed her the illusion of going out and partying all night. Well, sort of. Working in an establishment that catered to the trendy, money-hungry, banal inhabitants of the city, was foreign to her. It was plastic. It lacked the dirt, grit and substance of reality found in the places that she frequented.

A guy in a purple colored oxford takes a seat next to her on the train, immediately showing his absolute discourtesy for everyone, including the sleeping baby to his right, by making a couple of calls on his cellular phone. look at me. can i be any more obnoxious ?

They come into the bar ordering drinks like cosmos, orgasms and belladonnas. will someone, for once, order a rum & coke or even grapefruit juice & vodka? if someone asks for a Guinness, i’ll be shocked. The other thing this locale gave her was anonymity. The fact that she was not associated with these people in any way, made it much easier to listen to their silly rumors and nonsense that breed at barstands. Josie had the privilege to sit back and watch the habits of this peculiar subculture. It was safe.....It was normal.
The only familiar she had in the club was Martin. He was one of the three doormen, who also worked at the trance club near her house. They spoke throughout the night through a system of looks and hand signals that would impress even a deaf person. It was almost the only real conversation she had all night. She always setup the bar with her walkman on loud trying to mask the irritating pop music that the dj would play just before opening.

And so it begins.

It's a meat market frenzy. Women ogling over way too eager guys for free drinks, companionship or just a little non-obligatory attention. The guys on the other hand, are looking to score. Don't they see it in the dark pupils of their bloodshot eyes? you buy that girl one more drink and she just might puke all over you and your eighty dollar shirt.

She glimpses him in the mirror behind the bar.

now what's a nice dark boy like that doing in this zoo? must be lost. maybe he will realize it. new to town, must be.

An hour passes. The stranger never shows up at the bar.

so much for being cordial, she thought. Standard policy is, you see a freak like yourself and acknowledge them in some sort of fashion. Particularly in places where you are the minority. comradery it's called..

It's been an hour since she'd seen him float through the crowd of shiny happy people dressed in a greyish black fitted shirt , leather pants, covered with a black woolen coat. Reaching into the ice bin, she glances a dark figure approaching the bar on her side. Trey, the other bartender walks over to him to help him. The man declines with a mere nod. Josie continues with her drink order trying incessantly not to stare in his direction. too late. As soon as he thought she was going to look up, he set his stare in such as way that she would have to catch his eye, whether she wanted to or not. And they did. She felt strange, as if he looked right through her. As if he could see times, like when, she and her friend Tiff would practice making out with each other at sleepovers. Or when she stole candy bars from the newsstand at the airport.

Before she had a chance to look away, some bimbo clear on the other side of the bar is waving her arms at her annoyingly. Watching her walk away, he notices a slight limp in her step. He wonders if it could be the boots. Knee high, buckles up the front, platforms? Probably a very real symptom of running around serving these overgrown lab rats.

Josie, a slight of a woman, had, an incredibly large aura. Hair the color and density of night with crimson highlights. Yes, dark. Yes, mysterious. Yes, intriguing, he thought.


She poured the icy blue liquid into a tall,slender frosted glass. She allows her eye to wander back over to the stranger. He looks rather amused by his surroundings although, never quite notices the women behind him stunned by his everything. Finishing up her drink, she makes her way back, grabs a drink card.

"Far from home aren't you?"

He grins. "Like you're all tucked into bed here."

She smiles back, slamming a giant shot glass onto the top of the
bar. Ignoring the guy to her left screaming something about a vodka martini, she grabs a bottle from under the bar. Looking towards him for some sign of approval. He nods. She pours. Returning to him with a metal shaker, she pours the red liquor into the glass before him. He looks as if to ask her what damage he may be about to inflict upon himself. She turns the drink card over, circling the last listing:

Josie's Special - Dragon's Blood

He nods emphatically, taking the entire shot in one gulp. The stranger's green eyes glaze over instantly. She wanders off behind the bar.

In the two years she has worked here, she never peeped a single person as he. He was just that kind of dark that almost blends into the background without standing out too much but, in the same instance always stands out. Very subtle in his darkness. She was kind of excited. feverish. time for a cigarette. He sees her reach for her pack of cigarettes. He then takes his hand into his coat pocket to find a heavy pewter lighter with a red dragon monogrammed on the back. He looks down and smiles.

The sticky, hot film attached to her skin begins to disappear as she gets closer to the rear exit. The cool air dances over her body as she stands at the doorway of the deck.

"I followed you . I was on the train with you." he confessed.

"Huh?"

"You were wondering how I got here. Or even why I am still here."

Looking perplexed a bit, Josie responds without thought, "Was I? What if I was just wondering who the freak in the overcoat was? "
"And if you were just remember birds of a feather... "

Josie takes a long drag off her cigarette perched between her lips, thinking of what to say to the man. He makes her eyes dart. That hadn't happened in a long while now. wow. The conversation went on a little longer than expected and Josie found herself having to return to the bar in quite a hurry.

Soon as her shift was over, she slipped out of the club without seeing even Martin.


.... end of excerpt


16 December 2006

day six: taking yule back

so, it's day six and here's new information i have learned with my quest of taking back yule from the masses of gentiles and wanna bees.
dogs, specially little lap dogs don't what to do when they see the shadow of me coming. very funny. and little dogs sitting inside cars that look like miniature red foxes just bark like all get down when they see me.
litle kids..... 50% are scared ... YAYYYYYYYYYYYY ! and the others are facinated and wanna talk to me.
people in general are strange, some just get a great laugh and that's good, some don't know what to do so they stare...like i don't know i have antlers attached to my head .....and some get so caught of guard they crack up. the last bit of 'em wanna wish me merry christmas and all or say how i'm all ready for christmas and such. there's where i draw the line and throw the gaunlet down. " i don't celebrate christmas. "

if i really wanted to go there i could change my line to:
" i don't celebrate the fraud that is christmas "

...oooooh i like that. it'll get'em thinking.
so far, i haven't tired of wearing them BUT, i am starting to get a headache from wearing them. although i'm toying witht the idea of wearing them the first week of school next quarter.... my students already think i'm a raver ( HOW LITTLE attention they pay ) with the pieces of antler ripped off and a jack daniels bottle hanging on the horn.

11 December 2006

taking back yule for all my pagan friends


email post

so i decided to spice up my dreadful holiday ritual of grading numerous projects before i leave to go down south by
'going christmas'. yesterday before going to a holiday party i'd walked into walgreens for the purpose of buying some of
those OBNOXIOUS headband with reindeer antlers. and i got some. no, not just some but the ones with the ribbon on 'em
and the blinking lights. when i got to the party yesterday me and my other reindeers friends did a little duel and it was then i
realized that these can come in very handy if you're having a pissed off day. so this morning before leaving work i put the antlers
in my bag thinking that they might just come in handy this last week of school at some point in the day. and by god they did....
before leaving work to go to our holiday party i put them on and all my student drama melted away.
interesting thing i noticed :
when people see you the do weird things like smile at you and their all nice. would they if i didn't have the rudolph thing goin on?
( ps. when people assume i'm rudolph i tell them no, blintzen here. )
and when you look at my shadow it looks like a cross between medusa and the green man. it's kinna cool. i think the dreadlocks
make the silhouette look more zoomorphic.
maybe tommorrow i will take a foto.



07 December 2006

i put a spell on you




I put a spell on you
Because you're mine

Stop the things you do
WHOAHUH - what's up?
I ain't lyin'
Yeaaah, I can't stand - HOO!
No runnin' around
I can't stand
No put me down
I put a spell on you
Because you're mine
WHOAHAA - yeah!
WOAH!

[saxophone solo]

Stop the things you do
WHOAHUH - what's up?
I ain't lyin'
AAHH!! AAH! I love you
I love you
I love you anyhow
I don't care if you don't want me
I'm yours right now
I put a spell on you
Because you're mine, mine
Mine!!! AAH WHOAHH HUH


05 December 2006

first christian rockers then christian rappers NOW christian goths.....

- email post -

now, does this make any sense???????????????

-posting
" I am Octuber. I live out in the midle of nowhere on a farm. My favorite books are the series by Stephine Meyer and Lynn Ewing. I am a christian goth. I am active in sports and school work. I live with my parents and younger sister. "
what the fuck is a christian GOTH ??????????????!!!
i have no words.

some people are just bored in their lives.
christian goth.

--
- n g a t i -

03 December 2006

pride and prejudice

going down south for christmas....
can't wait to piss off all my ultra-christian relatives and their friends. it never fails that someone will ask me, "where do you worship" and my only reply is "what? i don't go to church." and i wait for a comeback from them. usually i don't get one but once in a while somebody's fool enough to ask me why AND I LET'EM HAVE IT. it's sooooooooooooooooo much fun.
how is it christians are harder to offend than pagans???

25 November 2006

bottletree diaries the book

waiting desperately to hear back from Concrete Blonde's publishing company so that i can go to print..... xxx crossing everything here. from what i understand so far, i may have to only purchase a mechanical license to print a couple of her/their lines. i hope it won't take sooooo long. i hear it can take a couple of months and i really am finally read to go to print. i was having this struggle with the fourth story and my good friend was telling me that three is a very lucky in chinese culture. ( seems right when you think about it ) four is an auspicious and unlucky number.... so me trying to squeeze that fourth story in wasn't working for a reason! she said something like giving gifts in threes allows for reciprocation. makes total sense now. so, i've three good stories and the fourth will just wait until later.

22 November 2006

The First Thanksgiving - have a good one

courtesy of jalagi.org

Thanksgiving. Turkey and dressing, pumpkin pie and football. Parents going to schools to see their children in plays about grateful pilgrims and their Indian benefactors. The age old tale of the Indians bringing food to feed the starving pilgrims.

I hate to be the one to burst the bubble but that story is a lie. One started to cover what really happened all those years ago.

The real story was reserached by William B. Newell, former chairman of the University of Connecticut Anthropology Department. His sources included Documents of Holland, 13 volume colonial documentary History, letters and reports from colonial officials to their superiors and the King of England, and the private papers of Sir William Johnson who was the British Indian agent for the New York colony for 30 years. Here is what Newell discovered about the "day of thanksgiving".

The year was 1637...700 men, women and children of the Pequot Tribe gathered for their annual "Green Corn Dance" in the area that is now known as Groton, Conn.

While they were gathered in this place of meeting, they were surrounded and attacked by mercenaries of the English and Dutch. The Indians were ordered from the building and as they came forth, they were shot down. The rest were burned alive in the building.

The next day, the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony declared "A day of thanksgiving" thanking god that they had eliminated over 700 men, women and children. For the next 100 years, every "thanksgiving day" ordained by a Governor or President was to honor that victory, thanking god that the battle had been won.

Not exactly the happy gathering that everyone has been led to believe that it was. Instead of giving thanks for being alive, they were giving thanks for killing 700 people.

Before anyone starts looking for rope to string me up with, let me say that I don't want thanksgiving outlawed. This holiday is now a time to spend with family and loved ones and that is important, but so is telling the truth.

When you are gathered at that table laden with food...with family and friends gathered around it....look at that turkey...the food...the drink....and get a mental picture of what really happened back then....then say your prayers.

20 November 2006

porch pumpkins after halloween

so what i wanna know is who said it was OK to leave you pumpkins, squash, and fall gourds out on you're porch way after halloween? what do people be thinkin ? you would leave fruit out on you're porch to rot. why leave some gang of vegtables out on your porch hoping that they'll last in time for thanksgiving???? people are dumB. they're are a gazillion rotting pumpkins and squashes out on porches in this neighborhood i wanna go break'em all open onto the front steps of their houses. and the chinese jewelry store has a gaggle of varied squash near the doorstep of their business. CRAZY.

16 November 2006

the bible is a weird thing

ever really read the bible?
it's full if straight ramblings..... every other beginning of passage in genesis starts with an AND. the shit makes no sense at all. i only picked it up just know cause i heard somebody on tv shout out a quote from the bible and i actually wanted to see if they were correct... evangelists...whew!
thw quote wasn'r actually verbatim like he promoted it to be.
leading the blind.

15 November 2006

The new year is upon us

now i'm back. the past couple days have been busy with much work. a friend asked me a couple of days ago if she could interview me for a paper she was writing about the new year rites and rituals of modern-day pagan. as a solitary witch there's lots of thngs i do that not all pagans do at the beginning of the new year BUT most of everything we do is the same. she is also solitary so she was wanting content about how i celebrate yule.
every year i SAY i'm going to take the plunge into cold ass pacific ocean but i never do. i'm from miami.... if the water ain't as warm i don't want it. shit, i'll take a nice slimy bottom alabama lake over a cold ocean. but that is part of one the rituals i do for the coming year.
this weekend i'm do a ritual up in antioch which why i've been away from the computer.
whooo hoo
sunrise saturday here i come. coming to greet you monsieur soleil

09 November 2006

remote supervising

just because i've seen about all i can stomach with this weird generation of parents who apparently learned how to grow their kids up by books do i write this post. here's a woman thirtysome.. i think can't tell some folks age... peddling products on one of these afternoon local daytime shows that cater to the what i term the too-busy-multitasking-to slow-down-and-watch-or-pay-attention-to-your-kids post babyboomer parents raising kids today. why the hell do you need a homing device on your kids when you go shopping? or the video camera on the back of your suv that you're not looking at where you're going so ya don't run yer kid over? or the hidden camera in the house to catch a babysitter or children doin shit they shouldn't? that's absolutely crazy. if i left my mother while shopping i better look for her before it gets ugly. if you're not familiar with a switch then you wouldn't understand. my cousin stood behind their family's conversion van ONCE. never again would you find him playing around that vehicle when my uncle strted it up. if you don't know you're babysitter well enough to beat her ass then you need to stay home with your own kids. we all grew up with a healthy since of fear for our parents and extended parental units. and still at the age of 36 i know there are certain things and places i can go with mom. cause she definitely gots that old black magic

07 November 2006

the seal of taurus

06 November 2006

bad, bad man

The ballad of Aaron Harris

Aaron Harris was a bad, bad man,
Aaron Harris was a bad, bad man,
He is the baddest man,
That ever was in this land.

He killed his sweet little sister and his brother-in-law,
He killed his sweet little sister and his brother-in-law,
About a cup of coffee,
He killed his sister and his brother-in-law.

He got out of jail every time he would make his kill,
He got out of jail every time he would make a kill,
He had a
hoodoo woman,
All he had to do was pay the bill.

All the policemens on the beat they had him to fear,
All the policemens on the beat had old Aaron to fear,
You could always tell,
When Aaron Harris was near.

He pawned his pistol one night to play in a gambling game,
He pawned his pistol one night to play in a gambling game,
When old Boar Hog shot him,
That blotted out his name.

Note: Aaron Harris (1880-1915) was one of 14 children of a black New Orleans grocer, George Harris, and his wife Mary Jane Moore. The family lived at 2238 Cadiz Street in the 13th Ward in 1900. Despite his reputation, Harris was never convicted of a crime in New Orleans, although he stood trial for the murder of his brother, Willis Harris, in 1910. Aaron was acquitted on the grounds of self-defence. After a heated argument, Willis attacked Aaron with a razor, and Aaron coolly shot his brother dead. In 1915, Aaron was working as a cotch dealer for various gambling houses. Boar Hog, the nickname of George Robertson, a watchman for the Frisco Railroad Company, had accused Aaron of stealing goods from the company. Aaron, never one to ignore a challenge, threatened to kill Boar Hog.

On the fateful night of 14th July 1915, Aaron left work and was walking down Tulane Avenue when he encountered Boar Hog. He reached for his Colt .41 but Boar Hog was quicker and shot Aaron twice with his Colt .44. Aaron fell to the ground, and the blood-splattered "heartless killer" never moved again in this life. As Leadbelly sang in the Los Angeles studios of Capitol Records in October 1944, when he recorded that thrilling blues-ballad called Ella Speed, Aaron Harris "was dead, goin' home all re-ragged in red."

{PH 5 Peter Hanley - Letter to Mike Meddings, 3rd September 2003.}

" See Aaron ... I guess the reason why he got out of trouble so much, it was often known that Madame Papaloos was the lady that ... always backed him when he got in trouble. I don't mean with funds, or anything like that. Money wasn't really in it. As I understand, she was a hoodoo woman. Some ... some say voodoo. But we ... it's known in New Orleans as hoodoo.

Well ... Madame Papaloos is supposed, that is ... from certain evidences, to tumble up Aaron's house. Take all the sheets off the bed. Tumble the mattresses over. Put sheets in front of the glasses. Take chairs and tumble 'em all over. That is said and known to ... discourage the judge from prosecuting.

And ... of course the different witnesses ... have all their tongues supposed to be tied. They supposed to tie 'em with ... by lambs' tongues. And ... beef tongues and veal tongues out of the markets. And stick 'em full of needles. That is what I understand. I don't know, 'cause I've never seen 'em stick pins and needles all through 'em. And take some ... we'll say twine in order to make it real secure. And tie these tongues up.

And that's supposed to have the prosecuting attorneys and the judges and the jurors and so forth and so on, have their tongues tied that they can't talk against whoever the victim's supposed to be. Not the victim, but ... the one that's arrested, the prisoner. So Aaron Harris was always successful in getting out of all of his troubles."

- Jelly Roll Morton

05 November 2006

green corn dance

Macon, Georgia, 1835

" When the green corn is ripe, the Creeks seem to begin their year. Until after the religious rites of the festival with which their New Year is ushered in, it is considered as an infamy to taste the corn. On the approach of the season, there is a meeting of the chiefs of all the towns forming any particular clan. First, an order is given out for the manufacture of certain articles of pottery to be employed in the ceremonies. A second meeting gives out a second order. New matting is to be prepared for the seats of the assembly. There is a third meeting. A vast number of sticks are broken into parts, and then put up in packages, each containing as many sticks as there are days intervening previous to the one appointed for the gathering of the clans. Runners are sent with these. One is flung aside every day by each receiver. Punctually, on the last day, all, with their respective families, are at the well known rendezvous

That you may the more clearly understand the whole matter, I will so anticipate my story as to put you in possession of many essential particulars concerning the place set apart by the Creeks for gathering their people to the festival in question. This will provide you with the unexpected gratification of even a third preamble, as an explanatory avenue extra to the main subject.

The chosen spot is remote from any habitations, and consists of an ample square, with four large log houses, each one forming a side of the square, at every angle of which there is a broad opening into the area. The houses are of logs and clay, and a sort of wicker work, with sharp topped, sloping roofs, like those of our log houses, but more thoroughly finished. The part of the houses fronting the square is entirely open. Their interior consists of a broad platform from end to end, raised a little more than knee high, and so curved and inclined as to form a most comfortable place for either sitting or lying. It is covered with the specially prepared cane matting, which descends in front of it to the ground. A space is left open along the entire back of each house, to afford a free circulation of air. It starts from about the height of my chin, so that I could peep in from the outside through the whole of each structure, and obtain a clear view of all that was going on. Attached to every house towers a thick, notched mast. Behind, the angle of one of the four broad entrances to the square, rises a high, cone roofed building, circular and dark, with an entrance down an inclined plane, through a low door. Its interior was so obscured that I could not make out what it contained; but some one said it was a council house. I occupied one corner of an outer square, next to the one I have already described, two sides of which outer square were formed by thick corn fields, a third by a raised embankment apparently for spectators, and a fourth by the back of one of the buildings before mentioned. In the center of this outer square was a very high circular mound. This, it seems, was formed from the earth accumulated yearly by removing the surface of the sacred square thither. At every Green Corn Festival, the sacred square is strewn with soil yet untrodden; the soil of the year preceding being taken away, but preserved as above explained. No stranger's foot is allowed to press the new earth of the sacred square until its consecration is complete. A gentleman told me that he and a friend chanced once to stroll along through the edge, just after the new soil had been laid. A friendly chief saw him and remonstrated, and seemed greatly incensed. He explained that it was done in ignorance. The chief was pacified, but nevertheless caused every spot which had been polluted by their unhallowed steps to be uptorn, and a fresh covering substituted.

The sacred square being ready, every fire in the towns under the jurisdiction of the head chief is, at the same moment, extinguished. Every house must also at that moment have been newly swept and washed. Enmities are forgotten. If a person under sentence for a crime can steal in unobserved and appear among the worshippers when their exercises begin, his crime is no more remembered. The first ceremonial is to light the new fire of the year. A square board is brought, with a small circular hollow in the center. It receives the dust of a forest tree, or of dry leaves. Five chiefs take turns to whirl the stick, until the friction produces a flame. From this sticks are lighted and conveyed to every house throughout the tribe. The original flame is taken to the center of the sacred square. Wood is heaped there, and a strong fire lighted. Over this fire the holy vessels of new made pottery are placed. Drinking gourds, with long handles, are set around on a bench. Appointed officers keep up an untiring surveillance over the whole, never moving from the spot; and here what they call the black drink is brewed, with many forms and with intense solemnity." ...


From an Unpublished Ms. By John Howard Payne, Author of "Home, Sweet Home"


that black drink is no doubt asi !






04 November 2006

crazy kin

i wish i could know what my relations were thinking when census takers came to doors asking about how old they were and where they were from. i have a particular grandmother who is straight incooperative with these census takers. for instance, her born name i can only assume was katherine glover b. 1856, then in 1880 she listed as ailsy glover, then in 1885 she was kit glover, then married some dude ten years her junior in 1900 and became ailsey davis. after becoming a widow she was back to kit glover and then only when she died would she ever use the surname davis, dying a. mrs.elsie davis. this kinna shit makes it so hard for me to trace their steps and her sister patsy is even worse when it comes to the name change game. thank god the naming tradition of the clan is still intact in our families. makes it SOMETIMES easier to deduce who came from who or named for who.

03 November 2006

creativity starting to flow

making some perfume tomorrow for so folks. i've been holding off for a while but since it's now about to winter out here i better go ahead a start the work. i'm still in a summer mood though. time to come inside and get on all these projects i needed to start four weeks ago. i've been so busy being pissed at the pilgrims that i couldn't get back on track with my day-to-day. but after all the strain of fixing up the story, i believe i may be able to work it out. it's time to call on my dream lover... not that the real boyfriend doesn't work or anything. it's just the dream lover works out all the stuff on my plate for me. especially when coming up with great storylines and such. i guess you could say he's kind of like my muse. that very interesting... never actually thought of it. putting myself in my stories helps me to tell a more rich story. maybe i'll post some parts later.
i can't wait til it's done.
my folks will be dumbfounded. i think they thought i abandoned writing when i was in college.


writer's block

so i'm working on a story that i just can't seem to finish. part of the reason is that i wrote it in a weird fashion. that is to say i believe i have the beginning, the ending or what would seem to be. the story is killing me and i'm apt to scrap it and start from stratch but seeing as it's a storyline i've been at for 3 years now, i don't really wanna give up on it. SHIT i love the piece. i love the story. i can't go wrong with a modern-day werewolf tale right? it's starting to look alot like my favorite pele & hi'aka myth without the fire. but it's the same tumultous kind of sibling relationship.
i'm just stuck. been sitting on it for months now, in the same spot. may haveta ditch the boyfriend during xmastime with my family to jet down to eufaula-phenix city-tuskegee way for a dose of inspiration. the one inconvienient thing about living in california is it's so far away from the other part of the country.

01 November 2006

mr. white

....he took me out to the lake after class one day. it had been a warm spring. we sat in his truck listening to some wild guitar solos. he wore a black concert tee, i remember this because almost every shirt he wore was a concert tee. fishbone, bad brains, motley crue, rush, prince or jimi, whichever it was it didn't matter because he looked the same kinna sexy in each of them. i watched this mississippi-bred boy pour me a glass and shoot me a glance from the other side of the seat. he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. he had a great ghost story to tell.

Oldham was a quiet yet, lively little township.......

.

31 October 2006

samhain nite

Yea, it's my day. although i'll do nothing i am happy to see everyone celebrating even though i should go out and hang with the friends and fiends i'm way too tired to do so. i will suffer the indignant neighbors with their autumnal decorations (dude just cause you don't want to be confused with people that celebrate that pagan holiday don't martha stewart the neighborhood ). last year i saw the weirdest thing: people trying to celebrate halloween at church. churches were having weird halloween services and programs at their churches.
if that ain't weird i don't know what is.

happy halloween !

30 October 2006

skegee-town

i went to school in a small southern backwoods town and when i arrived there from my big-city beginnings i was really amazed with the sights and sounds of it. of course after a while like all my city friends i began to miss the city BUT, surprisingly enough it didn't take long for the alabama nights and days to charm the hell out of me. although i missed miami dearly there was something abut the southland that grabbed me. the birds chirping, the forest howling, i don't know. there was just something in the air. i find know that the original tuskegee town was a mvscogee creek settlement.... maybe the ancestors were calling to me. i distinctly remember things i would feel in and about the town. my northern plains boyfriend at the time remarked alot about the energy around there when he'd come to visit.
whoaaa i ain't thought about that in a minute. time flies.
then stays still.

28 October 2006

legacies

talking with two of my latina sistas last night i found out we all have a similar legacy. we endure or rather experience the histories( the pain and the sorrow. past, present & future ) of our peoples in our bodies. that shit is in our blood and their is no watering down that legacy. we feel those things down to our core and i think that's the difference between the oppressed and the oppressors.
word.


26 October 2006

Storytime: The Legend of Hog Alley

Hog Alley didn't get its name in a very pretty way...

During the John Brown raid, the first raider killed was an African-American man by the name of Dangerfield Newby. Dangerfield had been freed by his white father, but he had a wife and seven children held in slavery in Warrenton, Virginia. His wife's master had told him that for the sum of $1,500 he could buy his wife and his youngest baby, who had just started to crawl. Dangerfield earned that amount of money and went back to Warrenton to purchase his wife and baby, only to have his wife's master raise the price. The free black man then joined John Brown in the hope of freeing not only his wife and youngest baby, but his entire family.
There were a lot of guns in Harpers Ferry, since they were made in the town and stored in the 22 building armory complex near the train tracks. There was little ammunition for the guns, however, and townspeople would fire anything they could find for their guns. One man was shooting 6 inch spikes from his powder loaded gun.


When John Brown raided the town in October of 1859, it was one of those spikes that hit the throat of Dangerfield Newby. He was killed instantly.

The people of Harpers Ferry, frustrated and angered by John Brown and his raiders, took the body of Dangerfield Newby and stabbed it repeatedly with their rusty knives. They left the mutilated body in the alley to be eaten by the hungry hogs.

Some night, if you are walking down Hog Alley and see a man dressed in baggy trousers and an old slouched hat with a terrible scar across his throat, you will know you have met Dangerfield Newby. He is still roaming our streets, trying to free his family.

reprinted from www.library/thinkquest.org

one drop rule. blood quantum.

i betcha when the white folks in charge thought of this whole one-drop rule, they thought they were doing themselves a great service. all of massa's half english, half dutch, half scotch or half danish chillun could be born into instant servitude. CASH MONEY$$$ free merchandise to be sold. all those children planters had with their numerous field and house mistresses that shole is alot of money..... wow. it's funny how the snippets you learn about slavery from school books is all iced over. i remember that stupid saying that blck people were worth less than 2/3 of human being BUT, if you read any of the slave schedules, wills, bible records and land records, a slave was worth alot of damn money to his/her master. property. property that you could just sell at almost any price like selling stock on the stock market. but then fast-forward to the future....where did all these black folk come from? one drop rule, yo.
if it was reversed i guess wouldn't have worked out so good what with all that slaveholding and things. did i hear somewhere that less white folks are having kids??? whassup
we'll i betcha they wished two black people could make more white people.
but apparently there's a phenomenon goes like this:
white people+black people = more black people
white people+ indian people = more indian people
indian people + black people = black people
indian people + black people who are actually indian people = black people

maybe we (black folks) trump any other race. i think. yeah that's it! hehe

if you are half white& indian and you're cousin is half black & indian which one of you is considered indian at all. aside from descendancy lines whether they be mother's side or father's side whether you're enrolling for money or not southern nations need to come clean with this shit. i'm still trying to figure out how a father who is Muscogee Creek full blood a mother who is part African/part Creek (thru her mother) give birth to three children and only one is enrolled as a citizen of the Creek Nation? just because the census card says that middle child was lighter in complexion doesn't make it right.. that's just ignorance.

25 October 2006

time after time

nearing to that time of year. the time i think of all my relations on the other side.
the time i get all mournful and crazy. crazy ina bad way. have more days where i wonder how my ancestors made it. made through slavery, made it through the removals. damn. the legacies of colonialism, theft and slavery are a bitch.
unless........... i guess you're on the otherside of the movement.

southern cloth.
southern blood.
southern ties.




24 October 2006

two people , one egg

every year this time i think of him. i remember him and i cry. like a sister does for her brother. that other half of herself not here , but there and always here. he is.

if you had lived dear brother i don't think anything could stop us. no one could come between us but alas, you are there and there is a great void between us....
or is there.
what would you be like now? 36 years old married with kids, married before me? probably not. of the same egg, same womb, same mother..... you would be just like your sis, and maybe even too much to put up with! yeah, i'd probably have to kill ya.
brotherlove this is your sisterlove calling from across the abyss. every since we were born i have missed you.

with all my love,
sister


23 October 2006

Southern Tales

Aw.... my first post here.

Well basically I'm really looking forward to my friend telling me why she doesn't sit in chairs backwards on Sundays...she commented about it last night NOW i'm way intrigued...... has something to do with Rawhead and Bloody Bones.... a story my folks never told me ( i don't think )

god i can't wait to hear that story !