Xmas2009

GOB GA Cracker, Louie Limbaugh, lives down the hall, and I have to share my kitchen with him, as well as the porch.
 

Whistle Stop Cafe, movie set of Fried Green Tomatos/June 2010
 

Xmas2009 in Star, Texas
 

MotherMadeTree, lost in Star,TX 2009
 

 

WoofieWife, LillianWeed
 

Her Majesty EmilyJane
 

My Georgia GirlFriend,Pegasus

 

CalicoJunction/MaconStation
 

Autmnal November Novena:
I pray for the establishment of a stressed-out doggie clinic in Lillian's backyard,
with Trails to explore, and a special yard to lay markers and poop,
and where there's room to park a van and pitch a tent for a weekend sabbatical/tutorial,
within a safe and grassy garden.
LillianWeed, and the CalicoConspiracyQueen of any DogPark, Emily presiding.
/

Warning by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

January 2002/Dream Journal
A preview of the Venus Transit 2012
Edited: 4July2010

Doom’s Day as Seen from the Death Valley Desert

An unseen naked Few
are left to track the end of daylight…
as Venus flies across the face
of a dark and bloody sunset...

a Few to share scarce pieces of found light…
to witness falling darkness
and the sudden cold without stars…

a Few to share the arrival of lasting darkness,
the final episode of nightfalling
becalmed over an enclave of freedom…

a Few to share the journey
into the totality of darkness…

a Few to share the loss of foreboding visions…
and carry the memories of life
to the other side of nightmare…

a Few to keep a whelming faith onward
to a sentient dawn…
to ride a nascent flame
beyond the cold without stars

Sept.Morn+19:Agenda

To do: Fan Letter to JuliaButterfly

Another woman shot in Macon.

Michael Steele, RepublicanPartyBus in Macon Saturday,
“FIRE PELOSI”

To do: target alienations, burn another bridge to kids.

“Get used to it.” macon colloquialism

Daily protest…trapped on the Macon Plantation.

Letter to Lydia, the only daughter I can recognize.

I love Bylaws! Thank you, over and ever again, for allowing me to spend Christmas Morning with my Only Son. It was our first time together since 1978, when we harvested a Tree named Esmerelda, and carried her home in my little gold Pinto. I wonder if Bobby remembers that he asked me if I was sure, when I told him her name, and that I said Yes.
I left that tree standing there in the front room, fully dressed in years of home-crafted ornaments, when I ran away from home to join the Revolution,
knowing my skeptical son didn’t believe in me, or anything I tell him.
Too bad…so sad I am that he still doesn’t.

But I still have the memory of the fond farewell my little girl gave me when she insisted I take Blossum, our old cat, with me, for love and protection.

Luv and sweet peasce, Morgana

A Y2K EPISTLE FROM HUMBOLDT NATION,
TO THIS SEVENTH GENERATION
Redway, Ca.1998
I FEEL INSPIRED to share some native understanding on the subject of Prayer.
Creative and effective Prayer for divine intervention seems to work best when envisioning nurturance and healing. These prayers seem always to be answered.
The Lakota Sundance did not work to avoid genocide,
I think because to envision suffering tends to perpetuate it, and because to offer pain as a bribe to any god is inhumane and undignified. The Sundance was discontinued in the 18th Century, and it was only revived some 40 years ago, for the edification of New Age, pale-faced tourists.
The Ghost Dance that swept the Nations during the 19th Century, however, had great effect in regards to the prophecies saying that the Elders would return invincible, and in the 20th Century, the Rainbow Tribe was born from the dreams of a Ute homelander Medicine Man, to provide harbor for those Elders in the Hearts of Amerika’s Woodstock Generation, which explains, I think, the intense personal and political identification with Sovereign Native Spirit that so obviously makes It’s Self manifest in our counter-culture, these days.
Seems to me to be the logical development of the Great Purification Prophecy promising that the Spirit of the Land will rise from it, and be cleansed and healed.
So…it’s up to US. We are the last Seventh Generation.

Our Descendents are not guaranteed to make it that far into the future, whole.
It’s up to US to rise up, and quantum leap into the Spiral Dance of World Consciousness, and actually accomplish successful revolution NOW!
This Great Millennium Prayer for World Peace
is programmed in the fabric of our DNA,
the Helix of Life as we know it.

I think that Jesus (and Mohammed and Krishna and Buddha) will feel right at HOME this time around, as Our Original Elder Hipi Hero, dontcha know. Changing our attitudes is the easiest way to change our paradigm, thereby saving Ourselves, and whatever is left of Our Ancient Redwood Cathedral Forests.

By me…Morgana Sage, Woodstock Rainbow Elder’s Council’90, Queen of Hipi Road, Emeritas, at Blackdog Junction, Tecopa Station’07, and Nat'l Chair of the RadicalActionWing of the ERA NOW TaskForc, of Renegade Witches and Homemakers N.O.W., since 1976, at the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia.

Whisper from the WhiteHouse...

"If John Boehner is handed the Speaker's gavel, all that is wrong with Washington is back in business. Their plans are simple -- unravel what this movement has done and stand in the way of the rest of President Obama's agenda. Some Republican leaders have even threatened to shut down the government to get their way -- a heartless move that would hold Social Security checks hostage and shut down veterans' hospitals across the country."

 
ColumbusDay2001/9-11Yew Norker's MemorialParade

The NewsTalkCentralGA.com MaconYokal's MorningTelegraph/TalkShow
on local TV FOX affiliate,and redneck talkradio AM station....
...is the ONLY BRIGHTNESS I CAN SEE IN GEORGIA
from my housewitch quarters on the old plantation uphill from downtown Macon.
...CharlesE should be Mayor,
and Kenny must have a Phd.too,
to make Butterfly's Point so clear.

Tweets by MorganaSage

Mark my words...bla bla bla obama will regret not bringing our
Troops HOME from Iraq, instead of just shuffling them off to Afghanistan.

I never thought the prez would be so dense and boring. Thought he'd jump at the chance to liberate Peltier from prison w/a dramatic penstroke.

And I was sure Michelle would've insisted on an ExecutiveOrder to ratify the ERA by presidential mandate, for their Daughters.

 Might still! Wouldn't that play trump on Sarah Palin's tea parties in the already ratified states? heh heh heh, touche?

Sept.Morn+8...Jesus wouldn't yell fire and cause panic in a crowded theatre,
nor would He burn Holy Scriptures instead of jihadist turbans,
just to inflame another Crusader's War.(targeted insight to whitehouse: FBI to detain seditious bible burners until after 9-11 media propaganda blitz is over.

Sept.Morn/bible-burning-summer-Georgia2010

The 'Guys on MaconTVMorningShow on ch.13, have decided that ALL Americans WANT is JOBS, obviously forgetting the OldBoomerWomen, and their Mothers, who outnumber the middle class, still wanting Equal Rights to be Constitutionally Guaranteed, regardless of Gender. I DONT want a Job anymore...I just wanna see Ms.Liberty smile over US. Why dont Barack do something dramatically correct with His Presidential Power, and give his own Mothers' and Daughters' Equality, under the Law. Steven Douglas should haunt that man in the whitehouse. Poor Dear Obama!!! He didn't learn to walk in America,so he's presumptively an educationally handicapped father-figure of daughters...and their GrandMother is from Illinois, an already ratified state. Well, Sojourner Truth wouldn't hesitate to call our Mr.President Boy on the a-musing cyberlines, and tell or write him off, in PUBLIC, if he doesn't figure a way to add the EqualRightsAddendum to the Constitutional Bill of Rights, in Honor of Our Collective American Ancestry.

SeptMornTweets by the Daily Sage of Spiders


morganasage   2 kinds of people in the World..."the quick and the dead." biblically speaking.OOD:to:CarryOn-ers&CarriedOut.ERANOW,SOONEST"

morganasage My so-calledgirly-friend charges me rent & presumes to criticize my chosen friendly intercourse with pseudo-friends in cyberspace izNOTtooQUIK""""""""7 minutes ago via web from Macon, GA

morganasage singing BlackDogBlues in Georgia to the tune of a wackyAquarian/Aries control-freak landlady who disses my dog badly, vieing for control of my life.""""""""17 minutes ago via web from Macon, GA

morganasage DearlySpiderMama, send V-dub camper w/driver to rescue me from DeepSouth B4 I'm burned at the plantation's whipping post on HallowedEvening.

"WE ALL LIVE IN THE DESERT” RESOLUTION       
   reprint of Amargosa Rag #4, 2003

BE IT RESOLVED, that
   All of Us Veterans of Hip Culture, old and new, young and retired,
   Cease and desist from all horizontal hostilities, and 
   Come together in joyful, non-judgmental self expression,
   To make the difference, to change the Course of History, and
   Not complain of Work or Death, and
FURTHER, that to
    Implement this Resolution of Revolution
   We do adopt the following guidelines as Basic Protocol
   To  ENHANCE OUR SOCIAL DYNAMICS…

 We will be Humane, and Courteous with each other.
We will share Honest Passions, and not dump Angst on each other.
We will not make false accusatory statements against each other.
We will not target each other with cheap shots.
We will not tread upon, or trip over, each other’s various personalities.
We will OPEN our Hearts to each other, and 
      willingly make attitude adjustments, TOGETHER.

 
Siesta on the Porch

 

Ghosts of Macon, Georgia

Then 1967 Now 2010

Now that I’ve resigned my self concerning the failure of my plans to vacate this flea-infested swamp for the West Texas Desert, I can kick-start my case against sharing the kitchen with the Nasty Old Racist and Sexist Christian Cracker down the hall, who has fallen twice with minor strokes, and his family won’t put him in a nursing home instead of assigning me the responsibility of providing Home Health Aide Services, and uncompensated expenses for yogurt, etc.

Yup! Back to the Mission at hand. The Desert can wait another two years, cuz this old geazer can’t live much longer. I’ve told him that I am too handicapped to get down on the floor to give him air.
He’s not too handicapped to walk a block to the store and back, but he keeps forgetting to get rolling papers for our tobacco habit, after I gave him $5 to get a few, OR he comes back with ONE pack!!! DamnedDementia!!!!!

Wedding Party
June 23, 1967
Virgin Bride

Nursing notes:

Just had a wonderful shopping date with an elegant MaconTaxiDriver, a TALL shirt-and-tie 30-something, Jehovah’s Witness, BlackDog owner, with an easy manner, and an open mind. Louis is my new Guardian Angel, so I gotta harass my Catholic, racist daddy about Angels coming in all colors, too.

HAGGARD BODY BLUES

I’ve lost about 43 pounds since I wore a DD bra,
3 years ago in the Desert.
Lost 4 pounds just last week,
on the SSI diet of mostly oatmeal,
and now my pretty satin C bra is too big.
DAMN!!! Wish fat would vanish from my hips first!
Used to have a nice goldmine back there, somewhere.

On the subject of Cultural Migrations

Mexicans are NOT "foreigners" in North America!!!

I am reassured when I see the Supreme Court filled by such Common Sense Americans of good judgment. AND SO…I’ve just backed-out of a ride to the bank and store, in a crippled, old Nissan.I’m just too cowardly to do it in a heat wave, or risk losing my dog to the Heat, if I didn’t get back home, too late, if at all!

ergo? using one's own best judgement is advisable.

 

(Parent,de-select gracefully!!!)

My Grandson has a DeathWish, but you don't have to grant it, or even pray for his protection. Lighten up on the Anger, before it breaks your Heart. Love, Mom

STAR BIMBO BAIT

Contemptuous 5'4" Bastard Son.
I desire vengeance for his theft of my golfcart, DixieMcGee.

"Silence, they say, is the voice of complicity.
But silence is impossible.
Silence screams.
Silence is a message,
just as doing nothing is an act.
Let who you are ring out & resonate
in every word & every deed.
Yes, become who you are.
There's no sidestepping your own being
or your own responsibility.
What you do is who you are.
You are your own comeuppance.
You become your own message.
You are the message."

Leonard Peltier, 2005

"WE ALL LIVE IN THE DESERT” RESOLUTION       
  reprint of Amargosa Rag #4, 2003

BE IT RESOLVED, that
   All of Us Veterans of Hip Culture, old and new, young and retired,
   Cease and desist from all horizontal hostilities, and 
   Come together in joyful, non-judgmental self-expression,
   To make the difference, to change the Course of History,
and NOT complain of Work or Death, and
FURTHER, that to
   Implement this Resolution of Revolution
   We do adopt the following guidelines as Basic Protocol
   To  ENHANCE OUR SOCIAL DYNAMICS…

We will be Humane, and Courteous with each other.
We will share Honest Passions, and not dump Angst on each other.
We will not make false accusatory statements against each other.
We will not target each other with cheap shots.
We will not tread upon, or trip over, each other’s various personalities.
We will OPEN our Hearts to each other,
and willingly make attitude adjustments, TOGETHER.

Prediction: My purple-tongued OldGrannyChow, Lillian Weed (named after a 19th Century Shoshoni DesertMedicineWoman , whose spirit she was born in Tecopa to carry) is PROBABLY gonna have "a following" in Terlingua, especially amongst the elderly feminist factions of Real Men in town, who govern themselves with dignity and self respect.
>
> WHICH witch of U.S. is really the Good!Witch of BlackDogJunctionShadeUnion, hmmm?
> Answer: ChowXBlackLab
> Why? You ask? Because she kills Scorpions!!!

Visiting Memories of Gray

When I left home the second time, after spending a semester on the Jersey Shore, and an early spring in New Hope, Pennsylvania with the ZLOCK Coven of mystic N.O.W. Activists, I remember Gray’s farewell and marching orders:
to find the Answers, and let her know. I said I would, but they’d only be My Answers, and maybe not all that profound in terms of all Her Questions, only some of which we shared.
But I did call and leave messages from the Sojourner, every few months that first year.

When I was a young girl, a Catholic Nun told me that Heaven was a place where good little girls, who grew up to be Good Women who would find all the Answers to Everything there is to Know. She said I’d have to live a good Life, and die peacefully, in My Own Bed, before I get to KNOW EVERYTHING, but that lots of Answers are to be Found
by the inquisitive sort of Student.

My Favorite Answer in relationship to Gray is: the psychic triangulation spells that possess me at every odd moment, which always enhance the strength of syncopation, directly through meta-electrical permutations, and ideations of inner touches, jerks and sparks, the womb jumping, the bowel bubbles moving, the full heart swelling, the throat clutching, the breathing of oxygen straight to my toes, curling.

Tecopa SummerSolsticeSunset/Moonrise

HEADLINE NEWS…

The Aliens are in Orbit!

The Aliens haven’t landed yet, because of what they hear on our broadcasted wave lengths. All they can do is muck up my wireless connection and TV reception.
Thank goddess, I LIKE playing cybernet word games on Facebook, when they let me get online!!! Getting dropped pisses me off!!!

But I do understand their aversion to the violent seditionist hate speakers, like Hannity and Limbaugh.

Long live Art Bell!

Old Granny says,

I made the best choices I was given to make, even under some unfortunate circumstances, and I don’t feel guilty for following my own Stars.

Happy Venus Transit Days are Coming Soon! And I had a dream once, that reassured me I’d be alive to see it from the Desert, live on TV and internet.

So, I’m getting ready for the Paradigm Shifting Party, when the Spirits of the GhostDancer’s will rise from my native land, and maybe gather in the clouds, to help us transfigure our survival options.

I believe that the transportation of Spirit by Buddhists, and the Ascension of Jesus, PROVE that Sentient Human Beings are capable of ascension to a higher paradigm of existence on the ethereal plane, as predicted by the Mayan Calendar.

If NOT, then I am prepared to spend my next life in the Land of Faerie, beyond the Mists of Avalon, trying to change this death cult paradigm from there, with magic more powerful than mere words.

My Mother told me, when I was little, that Heaven will be everything I’ve ever wanted it to be, and I’ve always believed her, so the Pearly Gates of Castle Chariot is my soul’s next destination, and my descendants will often see me in their dreams, haunting and pushing them to believe in the magic of Sentient Life..

KaliMorganaSage

Dearly TexanDodder by Law,

I was called to a Mission at the cusp of my first Saturn Cycle, that only another Capricorn/Aquarian hybrid has ever understood, and I’ve become assuredly self-righteous because I’ve never backed down from choosing to walk in balance on my own fated path, to make the World a better place, one person at a time, beginning with me, every morning that I’m blessed to wake up.

Dearly Eblenn, I’m gonna find yer Methodist Pastor on the web, inform him of our struggles, and ask him and his wife, to get involved with some family counseling, before, when, and after I get there in August. …Kali

PLZ tell Bobby how trapped I was feeling in the backyard. Of course I escaped again! That’s the kind of Woman I am. I’D HAVE BEEN DEAD LONG TIME AGO if I hadn’t become an escape artist. And Bob should thank his lucky stars I left him safely tucked in the bosom of his Good Father’s family.
I only meant to stay in Georgia for two months, but I refused to go on another road trip with my girlfriend ever again, because of her careless, maniacal driving.
So, it’s taken me awhile to organize an escape from this flea-cursed house, and get back to the Revolution happening in the WestTexas Desert. YEE-HAW! So, I would really like a Homecoming BarBque in your front yard, the first week of August, so I can load up my household stash and go off to set up housekeeping in Terlingua.
I’m a FreeAmazon. I can’t live under any man’s roof. He should remember at least THAT much, if he wasn’t so caught up holding a grudge. He’s harboring angst and its killing him (and me)with stress. PLZ tell him to ‘lighten-up’, will you?

Luv and sweet peasce, Granny Sage, the witchy eccentric

MovieSet Review/FRIED GREEN TOMATOS/WHISTLESTOP CAFE

I’m not judging Juliette, Georgia on the ethics issues involving a fictional Alabama town full of clansmen. I’m pleased with the feel of the yokels working at, and supporting a pleasant way to become legendary amongst tourists who have always preferred to ‘see America first’, because it’s good for the life of a town with homespun beauty.

The WhistleStop Café is marvelous, and deserves her place on any hipi map. Garden Salad, Peach Cobbler, and a heap of french-fries w/ ketchup, for two, plus bottomless, iced sweet tea, served in a canning jar, was $20.

So, even though I saw no Color in, or around-behind, the People of Juliette have done a fine job of growing a nice little town for little old ladies, and yuppie GrandMothers, and even fat, old hipis like me in the front porch rockers. A burly old guy even came-on to me as I was sitting backwards on a barstool, waiting at the restroom door. He tapped me on my shoulder when I wasn’t looking, and I leaned back, like in my salad days, and said “What?” So, we danced a few one-liners, back and forth, until I called him an Old Hipi. Whenupon, I left him grinning speechless, without falling off the stool.

The place is ‘styling’ as they say in Yankee New York. And it feels like a town which would’ve harbored a colored man’s wife and her secret,
white-manslaughter, in defense of her husband, and her best friend’s baby. ( so now you remember who done it?) (and I’m SURE the old Lady telling the story was Itchie,the BeeCharmer.)

Macon Blues/Resolution

It seems both of us were feeling trapped with each other’s manias forever, without sight of a flight back to the Desert and Revolution for me and both my animal familiars. But BrotherFriend Robert finally got back on line from his new HomeGrown GreenPowered Homestead, and offered me a new HomeTown in the Big Bend Desert, where I can drive home from the bar under starlight in my golf cart, with my black dog running shotgun in front of me. So, Robert’s Roadship will arrive by the
First of Hot August Nights, to carry me West to the Texas Desert, and leave my girlfriend’s fleas behind with herself.
And the maniacal, reactionary, demented old bitch has been reassured that she’ll be getting her house back to before dogdays hit, and I won’t have to shampoo Lillian for fleas every morning.

Refer to ‘I Believe in Happy Endings, by Neil Diamond

Macon Blues

Can’t count on my girlfriend to put my hair in a pony-tail, or scratch my back, except on payday, and can’t count on the Old Cracker down the hall, whom I’ve been tending, to baby-sit my Dog when I get to go to Walmart,
So what’s the advantage of living here with NO BACKUP of any kind?

Had to call the cops yesterday to climb the stairs to her ’ivory tower’ , and check on her at 3PM (heat index 100), as she hadn’t turned on the AC at noon, as is her routine, and wasn’t answering her phone, so I thought she might have been heat-struck and unconscious.

The Lady Cop climbed the stairs, knocked on her door, and Jahnean answered it right away. Said she was fine, but acted like she was totally unaware and unconcerned about me and Lillian baking with NO AC in the heat to the day! Is negligence only a crime if I die here? Poor Lillian would probably be shot to put her out of her grief.

So, It seems to me that I made a BIG mistake coming here to Georgia, only to find out that my friend is dangerously crazier than I thought she was, and that it’s time to make some plans to get back to my desert township by Halloween.

Lillian is miserable, losing weight, suffering hordes of fleas, might not survive the summer, so my only option might be to have her euthanized so I can catch a GreyHound to Pahrump, and board the TecopaShoppingShuttle'BRROOOM'…I’m sure that my Sisterfriend, BonitaLinda will let me sleep on her couch, and help me find a new camp to rent.…OR I could make a stop in Carson City to visit my Motherfriend OkieThelma while she’s still alive. And I wonder if I should stop in Texas to sell my GolfCart to the highest bidder, or raffle it off? Might have to since $600.00 a month from SSI might not cover bus fare all the way, and pay for vet fees, too.


On the other hand, as Queen of Hipi Road, Emeritus…if I could get lucky again, and hook up with another Veteran Hipi or Rainbow Elder, with a dog-friendly camping vehicle who is willing to take a road trip to the Great American Desert and Hot Springs, where there are no leash laws, I could de-flea my Old Sweetheart and load her up, instead of releasing her back out into the infested yard to sicken and die too young. For being a desert homebody for most of her 8 years, she took to being a road dog happily and well, until we got to this hell-hole of a greasy, pestilent, gulf coast summer. If I could get her home she might live another 8.

Anybody out there reading this? Be Aware…I am an old, fat, feminist witch, and my purple-tongued, half-breed Chow, Lillian Weed, is a mind-reader who doesn’t like mean, unhappy people, so if you are an experienced driver with air-conditioning, and the good will to make this voyage, send possibilities, references, phone number, etc. to MorganaSage@gmail.com or 149 Rogers Ave.,Macon,GA 31204 Soonest!

We travel light these days...2 bedrolls, an ice-chest, an herbal medicine bag, and a piggy-backing laptop.

Helen Thomas, BRAVO

Even Yokel Georgian Newscasters understand EXACTLY the lack of the need for caution at her Age and Status as Dean of Informed Journalism.

I look forward to watching her opinionated approach to working out some common sense solutions for the Children of the Holy Land, during a LONG working retirement.

Elder Helen is RIGHT…an Independent Palestinian State is only Kosher.

Jesus and Mohamed were Sons of the same Father, so Allah and Jehovah
Are One and The Same God of the Brotherhoods.

The Jews were granted a righteous Homeland, so now it’s time for Israel to give as good as She’s gotten, to the Palestinian side of the Family.

Wouldn't it be appropriate for Our Commander-in-Chief to issue an order to deploy military engineers aboard submarines, to command the capping of the rogue well?

Woes of a Pessimist

If only we could have cut our reproduction rate to a bare minimum which would have propagated only the best DNA for a sentient future;
but NO...people are fucking like doomed lemmings who devastate their food source on the way to the cliffs, every time their population explodes.

In four-legged herds, the breeding females vastly outnumber breeding males, so 'mankind' must be an aberration of the natural world, and our civilization is doomed by a bunch of dumb fucks, who are obsessed with sex and start 2nd and 3rd families into their Viagra-powered 80s.

Evidence that there are too many males in the herd, is all over the sex-crazed media,
where maniacal behaviors are standard fare on 'talent' shows, and the evening news.

If only sentience was more prevalent in the human species, we might have survived our civilization, but it looks to me like We are goners! Thank goodness I won't live to see the last throws.

MayDay22’10/Saturday Musings

I’ve just figured out that my Curse has always been to search my World for Intelligent Life, in a darkening climate.
What for? Why? Who? Me?
Is that why I’ve always felt like an Alien having to deal with resurrection myths?

What if all the UFOs and funny lights in the swamps and crop circles, are just Our Ascended Ancestors, checking in for Duty.

Carl Sagan would like it, if there ARE any Aliens, would they please harvest our waste hydrocarbons from the Gulf Coast, and take it OFF Planet, SOONEST!

Let Us Pray ‘they’ are, and do it, because it doesn’t take a Cassandra to see that A BILLION BARRELS are coming to turn Our Gulf Coast into a tar pit.

Psst…somebodies gotta ask the gods? who hardly ever answer? Phooey!

From Wikipedia:
A gut feeling, or gut reaction, is a visceral emotional reaction to something, and often one of uneasiness. Gut feelings are generally regarded as not modulated by conscious thought. (For a discussion regarding the brain-gut connection, please see Irritable Bowel Syndrome, as well as literature discussing the physiologic manifestations of emotions i.e. neuroendocrine gastrointestinal physiology). Gut feelings come from within, what your brain tells you to do. It also allow you to make a decision based on what your "gut" tells you to do.
The phrase "gut feeling" may also be used as a short-hand term for an individual's "common sense" perception of what is considered "the right thing to do"; such as: helping an injured passerby, avoiding dark alleys and generally acting in accordance with instinctive feelings about a given situation. It can also refer to simple common knowledge phrases which are true no matter when said, such as "Water is wet", "Fire is hot", or to ideas that an individual intuitively regards as true, without proof (see "Truthiness" for examples).
Gut feelings, like all reflexive unconscious comparisons, can be re-programmed by practice or experience.

But...
In my experience, and after reaching a mature age, I think intuition and gut feelings are NOT unconscious reflexes, but instead are cultivated standards that are of use in deciphering emotional and physical and intellectual hazards or opportunities, to accomplish a reasonable understanding of how to handle one’s self in almost any situation, that’s consistent with the mind, heart, and spirit, of what it means to be sentient and involved with other Beings. It seems to me that a brain which manifests unresolved emotions as discomfort and disease, is more culturally handicapped than pathological.

Granny's ClubCar "DixieMcGee"...driven by her Great-Great-GrandDaughters'Mother/2010

RED HAT SOCIETY POEM
Warning
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
I will wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week,
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes,
And set a good example for the children,
And I will have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
- Jenny Joseph (1961) as edited by me, MorganaSage, aged61

The Girls in our hotel room/office

My Girls guarding my privacy while I'm in the Hot Tub.

Hot tub therapy.

In the Pink after hot tub treatment.

Excerpt from the poem, Monster, by Robin Morgan, 1971

I want a women’s revolution like a lover.
I lust for it, I want so much this freedom,
this end to struggle and fear and lies we all exhale,
that I could die just with the passionate uttering of that desire…

Oh mother, I am tired and sick
“How do you stop from going crazy?”
No way, sister, no way.
May we go mad together, my sisters.
May our labor agony in bringing forth this revolution be the death of all pain.
May we comprehend that we cannot be stopped.
May I learn how to survive until my part is finished.
May I realize that I am a monster.
I am a monster.
I am a monster.
And I am proud.

FROM DREAM JOURNAL
Doomsday Dream
A view from the Death Valley Desert
January 2002

An unseen naked few
are left to track the end of daylight…
as Venus flys across the face
of a dark and bloody sunset...

a Few to share scarce pieces of found light…
to witness fallen darkness
and accept the cold without stars…

a Few to share the arrival of lasting darkness,
the final episode of night…
becalmed in an enclave of freedom…

a Few to share the journey
into the totality of darkness…
the pending cold without stars…

a Few to share the loss of foreboding visions…
and carry the memories of life
to the other side of nightmare…

a Few to keep a whelming faith onward
to a sentient dawn…
to ride a nascent flame
beyond the cold without stars

THE AIDS CONSPIRACY, published 1987,
in an underground newspaper in ‘the’ Village, NYC

AIDS is iatrogenic.
The human organism’s immune system has been seriously compromised, and rendered ineffective in some cases, by the medical profession’s concerted efforts with generations of antibiotics, primarily penicillin, which has become known to mutate the body’s natural response to infection, which then becomes resistant, progressively.

Can it therefore be said that if one is a chronic consumer of medical treatment, then is it likely that one is susceptible to encountering a fatal virus?

We are a dying race. Folks are racing to die. The emergency rooms of Amerika are filled to overflowing with hurt and sick people. We are dropping like flies in a hard freeze, from cancer, pneumonia, murder, stress.
Would Big Brother want us to notice the death throes of a terminal environment? Would doomsday announcements cause panic and expedite genocide?

Triangulations are possible to support a theory that there exists a conspiracy to camouflage the catastrophic consequences of a necrotic society, and to control the masses with medication, government funding, and methodical moral fascism.
The Church and State are in collusion to assign responsibility to the individuals who recreate, procreate, and aspirate toxic atmospheres; to alienate us from each other in our intimate relationships; to keep us divided, under suspicion, and subdued.

The practice of modern medicine has become a death cult religion to govern and control the culture of Life, Freedom, and Health, for profit.
The Church Fathers of the Dark Ages murdered the real healers at the stake, and proceeded to design a renaissance to co-opt and redefine ancient sciences in patriarchal ritual terms of war. We can see how modern medicine has lowered the death rate, and raised the birth rate, so can it also be held responsible for the Population Bomb exploding our chances of survival? And can the HIV/AIDS pandemic be seen as the medical profession’s ‘final solution’ to the TOO MANY LEMMINGS Syndrome?

Y2K EPISTLE FROM HUMBOLDT NATION
TO THIS SEVENTH GENERATION

I FEEL INSPIRED to share some native understanding on the subject of Prayer.
Creative and effective Prayer for divine intervention seems to work best when envisioning nurturance and healing. These prayers seem always to be answered.

The Lakota Sundance did not work to avoid genocide, I think because to envision suffering tends to perpetuate it, and because to offer pain as a bribe to any god is inhumane and undignified. The Sundance was discontinued in the 18 th Century, and it was only revived some 30 years ago, for the edification of New Age, pale-faced tourists.

The Ghost Dance that swept the Nations during the 19th Century, however, had great effect in regards to the prophecies saying that the Elders would return invincible, and in the 20th Century, the Rainbow Tribe was born from the dreams of a Ute homelander Medicine Man, to provide harbor for those Elders in the Hearts of Amerika’s Woodstock Generation, which explains, I think, the intense personal and political identification with Sovereign Native Spirit that so obviously makes It’s Self manifest in our counter-culture, these days.

Seems to me to be the logical development of the Great Purification Prophecy promising that the Spirit of the Land will rise from it, and be cleansed and healed.

So…it’s up to US. We are the last Seventh Generation. Our descendents are not guaranteed to make it that far into the future, whole.
It’s up to US to rise up, and quantum leap into the Spiral Dance of World Consciousness, and actually accomplish successful revolution NOW!

This Great Millennium Prayer for World Peace is programmed in the fabric of our DNA, the Helix of Life as we know it.
I think that Jesus will feel right at HOME this time around, as Our Original Elder Hipi Hero, dontcha know. Changing our attitudes is the easiest way to change our paradigm, thereby saving Ourselves, and whatever is left of Our Ancient Redwood Cathedral Forests.

By me…Morgana Sage, Woodstock Rainbow Elder’s Council’90
Queen of Hipi Road at Blackdog Junction, Tecopa Station’05

In Defense of the Feminist Movement:

We did not mean to denigrate the value of women's labor in the family, the home, or the World. Nor did we intend that our daughters would also be surrendered to the blood sacrifice of war, against our will and better judgement.

We must take our rightful place as the movers, and the shakers, and the rockers of the cradles of a humane society in which each individual can live in dignity, security, and pleasure.

We must delete "war" from all vocabularies in order to disempower the military heirarchy for breaking the Commandment against murder, and it is Imperative that we irradicate racism, where ever it exists, and by any means necessary.

The last two verses of the last chapter of the last book of the Old Testament, Malachi 4;5-6 reads..." I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else...I will strike the Land with a curse."

This 'bottom line' prophecy could be translated to modern terms as warning to delete war or else face total destruction unto extinction, and that we'd best start acting like we are willing to live without resorting to death cults.

Y2K Designer Virus

All of us here who have refused
the mark of the beast,
are already on the march
into a thousand years of Peace.

We saints are motivated by
our ancestor's martyred spirits,
and we are an irresistable force.

Hipis unite! We've always been right!
Successful insurrection in sight!
Incite insights...
and program this command:
delete "war" from all vocabularies
and demand:
an immediate moratorium
on ALL commercial harvest
of our Ancient Redwood Cathedral Forests.

Silence, they say, is the voice of complicity.
But silence is impossible.
Silence screams.
Silence is a message,
just as doing nothing is an act.
Let who you are ring out & resonate
in every word & every deed.
Yes, become who you are.
There's no sidestepping your own being
or your own responsibility.
What you do is who you are.
You are your own comeuppance.
You become your own message.
You are the message.

In the Spirit of Crazy Horse, Leonard Peltier

Sappho's Reply,
thru and by, Rita Mae Brown, circa. early'70s

My Voice rings down thru thousands of years
to coil around Your Bodies and give You Strength...
You, who have wept in direct Sunlight...
You, who have hungered for invisible things...
You, who have marched to the Cadence of My Legacy:
AN ARMY OF LOVERS SHALL NOT FAIL

Our Terran Goddess Gaia, Mother of Nature, is a Horticulturalist.

Gardener’s Hand, by Daughter Morgana, 2007

Mother Nature is my Goddess,
and I’ve seen her Gardener’s Hand
in a Vision of a Titan Woman’s ForeArm,
up to the rolled flannel sleeves above Her Elbow,
reaching down thru the cloudcover to poke a seed
into the Soil, with Her index-fingered Fist,
just like the Hand that touches Adam’s Finger
in the Sistine Chapel, only…
this Celestine Vision was of the Divine Feminine Ilk,
from One of the Seven Sister’s Realm/Sphere in the 10th Dimension.

Whaddya wanna bet???
Makes me WONDER…what if, in the Beginning,
The Word was ‘Music’, instead of ‘God’. Hmmm?

Forty years ago, I saw a painting on a friend's wall, that has haunted me ever since, as a definitive concept of primal reality. I hope this photo-shopped rendering of a floating egg, speaks the same simple and profound message, even though the depth and texture and soul of the artist is missing.

The END is sooo NEAR that....

...invading and occupying, and colonizing Mars is a foolish ambition because I don't believe Mankind has time enough left, to escape self-destruction by immigrating to the hostile Void, off-planet, with a large enough gene pool to insure the continuence of even His own species.
The most we could accomplish might be to make a deposit of clonable DNA in an impermiable security box, with instructions for whomever finds the artifact eons after Our Demise, to re-constitute Our Remains for archaic exhibit. I would hope that the Chinese People's Government thinks of this idea first, so that the most successful race of Humans, and Panda Bears, and Whales, could represent the rest of us to Posterity, if there ever is any.

ta-ta...Sage2007

Memorial Day Truisms 2007

Patriotism is a false religion, of no value to any but the fascist State, which requires blood sacrifice as worship, in it's deathcult of war against it's Citizens and Neighbors.
America's Christian Values are Faith, Hope, and Charity, and Liberty thrives only under the Commandment to Love Our Neighbors, as We Love Ourselves.
As long as there are wars, Our World's Children will die on the alters of Old Men's vainglorious devils.

Just got Kurt Vonnegut's 2005 book, 'Man Without a Country', and George Carlin's,
'An Orgy of George', so I've been a little off the wall with attitude lately, huh hee hee haw!!!
Here's a funny one from George:
"Sometimes I look out the airplane window at a large city at night and wonder how many people are fucking. Somehow, this seems like an appropriate use of a good verb." Here's another...
"I think we've outgrown the word 'gripe'. When everybody has automatic weapons, a word like 'gripe' is sort of irrelevant."

Just goes to show ya how important wordsmithing is to changing language to change attitudes to change Our World to a New Paradigm. Viva la Revolucion!!!
luv and peas, Sage

During my 20’s, I was a wife and mother who became a women’s libber, and started wearing cotton instead of polyester. I got kicked in the teeth a lot, by the idiomatic status quo, for blurting truisms and exposing faux pa’s.

All during my 30’s and 40’s, I heard younger people, mostly impotent men and frightened women, accusing me of being behind the times, living in the past, stuck in the Sixties, chasing a lost cause.

Now I’m knocking at 60’s door, and I say, AH HA!
Who is so ignorant now, as to label me naïve and passé for believing in my own successful revolutions, when I see the motion rising, and it is irresistible, even NOW.

From: The Greening of America, by Charles Reich, 1970

"There is a revolution coming. It will not be like revolutions
of the past. It will originate with the individual and with culture,
and it will change the political structure only as its final act. It
will not require violence to succeed, and it cannot be successfully
resisted by violence. It is now spreading with amazing rapidity, and
already our laws, institutions, and social structure are changing in
consequence. It promises a higher reason, a more humane community,
and a new, liberated individual. Its ultimate creation will be a new
and enduring wholeness and beauty—a renewed relationship of man to
himself, to other men, to women, to society, to nature, and to the
land.
This is the revolution of the new generation. Their protest and
rebellion, their culture, music, ways of thought and liberated
lifestyle are not a passing fad or just a form of dissent and
refusal, nor are they in any sense irrational. The whole emerging
pattern, from ideals to campus demonstrations to beads and bell-
bottoms to the Woodstock Festival, makes sense and is part of a
consistent philosophy. This revolution is both necessary and
inevitable, and in time it will include not only youth, but all
people in America."

“Shamanism does not consist of knowing how many bat wings to put into the stew.
Shamanism consists of being yourself perfectly, because there is a permission and initiation for others in that. If you can be yourself perfectly in front of them, you create the space for them to be themselves perfectly also..”…Michael Harner, 197

"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes... the ones who see things differently -- they're not fond of rules... You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can't do is ignore them because they change things... they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do."
By - Steve Jobs

My Hipi Herstory

I didn’t know I was a hipi until my store-bought smelling BlackWomen co-workers at the nursing home discovered that I didn’t shave my legs or pits, accused me of being one, and not understanding my feminist reasoning, beat me up for being queer. My fault, I guess, for never having told them that I was sleeping with THEIR men.

During my 30’s in the 1980s inner-city WestcottNation, of the SyracuseNY street-scene, I was the only single, straight woman with a steady job and housing, in a tight community of starving artists, poets, and musicians.
I fancied myself another George Sand, and maintained a Parisian-style Salon as a haven for my stable of menfolk, who fed my ego with regular massage-as-foreplay/therapy that kept me functional at the nursing home, and putty in their hands. But when 10 years of pot parties and keggers at my house, became alcoholic rescue and trauma recovery after crack parties I wouldn’t go to, and after I got fired and blackballed for union organizing, I closed up shop and escaped with my dog to the nearest Rainbow Gathering, to hang out with the garlic-breathed. I was already 40, so the sex-card didn’t play so well with the high holy male peerage, who could only get it on with emancipated teenie-boppers, but my younger brothers were more kind and feminist, so my broken ego was restored.
My only problem that summer was that the “older establishment” owned most of the transportation to the next gathering, and there was never enough “room on the bus” for me and my dog, so we were always left behind when the youngsters trolloped off to set up the next venue. It was a blessing, really, because I was drafted by my Vietnam Veteran Brothers to the clean-up crews, and they always gave, or found us a lift, no stings attached, but for True Love.

By early fall, my dog and I hitched a trucker who carried us to within spitting distance of the already frozen-out gathering at Granby Lake, so we hitched to Yuma to mend fences with my parents, but they were horrified that I’d gone native, so after a very uncomfortable Christmas season, during which my Rambling Rose got road-killed on the freeway, I limped home to the ‘Cuse, went to truck-driving school, hit the road again looking for a job, and made it all the way back to the west coast to visit my Grandmother, who emptied her savings account to buy me a 1970 v-dub transporter and another dog because she didn’t want me driving truck. And then she died, leaving me to live the life of an aesthetic for 8 years on Hipi Road.
Eventually, I found my way to Humboldt County, fell in love with the Redwoods and Julia Butterfly, and discovered that the Uzi’s in the woods were mostly just rumors. Spent three years looking for level parking and a job, but never found either. All the paid employment opportunities were reserved for the children of the yuppified growers, and the community’s elitists governed volunteer labor, so Emily and I ended up living at the curb next to the food bank, dodging speed freaks who wanted in from the rain. Social Services finally provided me with a psychiatrist and a lawyer who qualified me for a nut check, so that I could give away the no longer roadworthy Creampuff VW to the homeless for housing, and exit stage south with my dog in a $100 Cadillac, to retirement in Death Valley’s hot springs to recover from tick-induced lyme’s disease and unheated winters’ arthritis, add another dog to the family, have puppies together, and smoke compassionate herb.
Like Janis said at the end of Mercedes Benz….that’s it!!!!

Kirby's Coach, on the farm road between Mechlinburg and Odessa, New York...
I was playing pool with a Backpack Touring Woman named Janis, when she looked up from her bead on the 8ball, and looking right straight at me, said, "I dont suppose that Romance turns yer stomack(grin)?".
heh heh eheh heh ehe heh ...still makes me laugh, rememberin'. Specially, since she convinced me that she WAS Joplin, post mastectomy. Said she was living in a Collective Community outside DeKaulb Junction, N.Y., with a man named Crow. Come to think of it...she might be still there. Has anyone seen her lately?

And is there anyone left who remembers Onondaga Nite at the Landmark Theatre in Syracuse, the year Dennis Banks was harboured in the LongHouse? The message I heard delivered by the Nation's Cheif was
"There's a New Wind Rising...and it's the Women!"

How many of the 2000-plus people there in Harry's Landmark that night in the mid-eighties, are still around to remember? and keep passing the Words?
Hanta Yo, Sagebrush

Hipis Unite!
We’ve always been right!
Successful insurrection in sight!
We Saints of the Current Era,
are motivated by Our Ancestors’ Martyred Spirits,
and We are an irresistible Force,
whose Mission it is to Save the World.

Therefore, We Do Adopt
the following guidelines as basic Protocol
to Enhance Our Social Dynamics:

We will be humane and courteous with each other.
We will share honest passions, and not dump angst on each other.
We will not ejaculate false accusatory statements against each other.
We will not target each other with cheap shots.
We will not tread upon, or trip over each other’s various personalities.
We will open Our Hearts to each other,
and willingly make attitude adjustments, Together.

Tecopa MoonRise over the Sunset Mountains and Vegas.

I miss the stars, and Lillian misses the coyotes, so I've just decided to inaugerate a 2-year plan to heal up my joints in the hottub enough to move back to Death Valley with my canine and feline familiars, before we die in this moldering, deep south swampland. We'll be home by Venus Transit 2012. We should all live that long if I can continue to drop the extra weight on my ankles and knees...25 pounds gone since last summer.