May 30, 2012 at 4:30 pm (creative writing, culture, entertainment, ethics, exploring interconnectedness, fiction, history, humor, Indigenous People, life, literary fiction, movies, Native Americans, poetry, publishing, random, satire, Writing)
Tags: Alexie, anger, black humor, book review, books, boy, Business of Fancydancing, culture, dark comedy, education, family, father, fiction, Flight, foster children, grief, history, humor, identity, Indian, Indian Child Welfare Act, Indians, Irish, life, Native Americans, novel, random, reading, reviews, science fiction, Sherman, teenager, time travel, violence, Zits
Hehehehehehe. Okay, if you have no appreciation of dark humor stop reading right now and stay far away from Flight–far far away. Got it? I’m warning you. This is no sweet flight of fancy tome. Our hero is an angry fifteen year old male of Irish and Indian origin with some serious grief and father issues–among other things. Now sit back and sip your hot tea, latte or bloody mary and think about a young man who refers to himself as Zits. If you can’t relate then it’s probably in your best interests–and mine (yes, I do fear homicidal repercussions from unhappy readers)–to go nowhere near this particular Sherman Alexie book. That said, last night I stayed up very late reading Flight via flashlight outside on the front porch–much to the dismay of anyone who had their doors or windows open to receive my hooting laughter when I turned to page 146. Some folks do not find boiled birdies funny–and I do understand that such minds exist. On the other hand, there are minds, such as mine and apparently Alexie’s, which find self boiled birdies absolutely hilarious–especially in the context of a potentially violent encounter between a homeless Indian man and the usual well-heeled white dude. If by some means, like using your local public library, you garner a copy of Flight you too will be in serious need of comic relief by the time you turn to page 146. Though, hopefully, you’ll have found other darkly comic things to chuckle loudly about before page 146. But you’ll also have encountered several incidents of mayhem, murder and molestation along the way. The lives of foster children are not all filled with sugar mommies and daddies. Nor do many events in American history since 1492 recount pleasant Thanksgiving din dins between Europeans and Indigenous folks.
Ever wonder how to diffuse the building anger of teenager? Well, Sherman Alexie offers one way–history lessons of the ”not me” and the “me?!” variety. Yep, direct confrontations of some dark sad truths of reality provide the fodder for the adolescent mind to chew heartily on and time travel, complete with out-of-body experiences, is the medium. From the Battle of the Little Bighorn to the grief ridden friendly skies of a private flight instructor Alexie takes us on a journey through history. Along the way he’ll shred your heart, sew it back together without anesthesia, and then shove it back into your chest. You’re going to need every last piece of humor to endure the operation. If you’re not laughing when Harry Potter takes a swan dive–then you might be dead and gone. Or you’ve abandoned Alexie’s exploration of time travelling adventures as an instruction manuel. Each episode serves as a short story with ethical issues galore. FBI agent Hank Storm may not get your heartstrings trembling–but Gus, Bow Boy and Small Saint could very well lay you flat on the floor demolishing an extra-large box of kleenex–or soaking an extra-large cotton hanky.
Zits experiences violence in many forms via his out-of-body time travelling–and this makes him seriously consider his pains of loss, abandonment and identity. Children NEED fathers–preferably decent men who care about their welfare. That lacking, one must find family where one can. Sometimes the concept of ‘family’ has not a damned thing to do with genetics and biology. It’s got to do with who gives a damn.
I’ve been a fan of Alexie’s work ever since reading his collection of poems and short stories The Business of Fancydancing. Yes, there’s a film by that title too– and it’s a great film. But–it was the text that had me wanting to scream and laugh from one page to the next. Ever felt bushwhacked by a writer? Well that’s how I felt while reading The Business of Fancydancing. It was great. Disturbing at times, but great nonetheless. I will never forget the story of the man, Eve and the post office. Hell, I’ve never entered a post office since and not thought of the story. The same holds true for Flight. It will not numb or bore you to tears. Not sure you can relate yet? Okay, who has had bad acne? Raise your hands now.
The Official Website of Sherman Alexie–be forewarned–it’s a tad off kilter: http://www.fallsapart.com/
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May 29, 2012 at 4:35 pm (history, Writing, politics, culture, humor, creative writing, publishing, literary fiction, random, fiction, entertainment)
Tags: Bloody Mary, Book, books, fiction, history, In the Garden of Iden, Kage Baker, literary, love, Mendoza, Mervius, Middle Ages, random, reading, review, Science, Spanish Inquisition, time travel, Writing
Ah for years and years my old bud Mervius insisted my reading buffet would never be complete until I consumed Kage Baker’s In the Garden of Iden. On several occasions I tasted a page or two before detouring off to sample other fare. I suspect the Spanish Inquisition just failed to fan the flares of my reading pheromones. It’s not good to venture into dark historical times when dark storm clouds are already cramping one’s interior mental landscape. So, time travel and Dr. Zeus notwithstanding, again and again I only wandered so far into Baker’s Garden–until now. Still plenty of dark shadows lurking in my attic, but this time Mendoza’s voice resonated with my own tuning fork and I ventured beyond the first chapter and into the second to meet Mendoza the child full of piss and vinegar galore. This child of the Inquisition is no snivelling little shy kitty but one determined plucky yard cat with an attitude that might make the rack think twice about its own viability. When ‘baby’ Mendoza meets Joseph of Dr. Z and The Company affiliation the drawing and quartering horses are off and running–straight to an English garden in Kent–of all places!
There have been many time travelling immortal cyborgs in fiction and film–but how many have been botanists sent on a mission to save a medically significant plant from certain extinction? Hmm? And how many of those cyborgs have had to endure life in the time of Bloody Mary? If I didn’t know better I’d think the English slang cuss word “bloody” had its dubious origins with Henry’s first-born child. Furthermore, what other cyborg is a teenager experiencing first love with a very physically appealing religious heretic? Hmm? Ah yes, the catnip crazed kitty has nearly clawed its way out of the bag now. What happens when a young cyborg on her first field trip into history falls in love with a human in times of pure political and religious lunacy? Oh cyborg, cyborg, what does your garden grow? Hmm…yes, you will have to go smell Kage Baker’s garden offerings to learn what was going on in not so merry England prior to the Golden Age of the Virgin Queen. Hmmm, now there’s a reference to a personal garden that cunningly never grew nor bore fruit.
Hmm, I suspect I’ve been having way too much fun gleefully flipping images and mixing metaphors in my own little garden plot here. But–what the hell!
A few reasons why you should entertain notions of reading the late Kage Baker’s first novel:
You’re a fan of historical fiction that mixes it up with science fiction.
You’ve got some ethical issues about time travel you’d like resolved.
You’re a sucker for love stories.
You’ve got a thing for smartass dialogue.
You’re in the reading market for a completed series of tomes featuring a strong woman with ‘real history’ and a mission for eternity.
You enjoy damned good writing.
You’re bored out of your mind with the offerings on the current bestseller list and are willing to mine for reading gold in veins you’ve not yet explored.
Oh, yes, about the question in the title of this blog post–hmm, sits twiddling her thumbs for a moment–um, yes, well considering current events in the states, eg, NDAA, one HAS to wonder if the Inquisition ever really ended.
[Mendoza] “For God’s sake, it’s crazy! These people are giving up their civil rights! It’s a step back into the Middle Ages!”
“Funny thing about those Middle Ages, ” said Joseph. “They just keep coming back. Mortals keep thinking they’re in Modern Times, you know, they get all this neat technology and pass all these humanitarian laws, and then something happens: there’s an economic crisis, or science makes some discovery people can’t deal with. And boom, people go right back to burning Jews and selling pieces of the True Cross. Don’t you ever make the mistake of thinking that mortals want to live in a golden age. They hate thinking.”
“But this doesn’t have anything to do with intellect!” I [Mendoza] protested. “It’s a question of survival! Don’t they realize they’ve just voted absolute power to their enemies? My God, where’s their common sense?”
Well, Mendoza, I do believe that when we are brutally honest with ourselves, we mortals in general are keenly aware of our entire lack of any sense at all–common or otherwise. Resumes twiddling thumbs now.
Website for the ‘late’ Kage Baker’s wonderful literary work. Yes, I wrote “literary” in regard to a science fiction text. I dare anyone to read In the Garden of Iden and argue the point. http://www.kagebaker.com/
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May 24, 2012 at 4:11 pm (creative writing, culture, education, entertainment, fiction, humor, life, literary fiction, publishing, random, Writing)
Tags: Big Big Sky, Book, Canada, creative writing, culture, Dunnion, entertainment, fantasy, fiction, girls, humor, Kristyn, life, publisher, publishing, random, Red Deer Press, review, Science, science fiction, survival, trailer, video, women, Writing, young adult
Click the boot to see the video trailer and more at Red Deer Press. If you find this an unsettling view of teenage girls then I suggest you consider all that’s been written about their physical and psychological cruelty. Science fiction has nothing on the daily reality strutting through school hallways everywhere.
Rustle: I think of all the clicking, whirling cams, the screens and monitors, the hidden mics tracking our movements when we least suspect it–the never knowing when they’re watching. And I surrender to my own inevitable defeat. A tear rolls down my sorry check as I flashback to the Treason Times. I rememory all those twisted cores, those poor broken specimens struggling, impaled on their death sticks, waiting for the pain to end. Our ancestors, the human mothers who bore us, ridiculed ’til the very last milli and Beyond. That’ll be me soon. Sniff.
O thank you, Red Deer Press for your “…respect for the intelligence of the reader at every level…”–WOW–when’s the last time you read that in any American Publisher’s mission statement? Like NEVER! I mean what American media outlet of any sort has any respect for the intelligence of its audience??? Red Deer Press is a Canadian operation–smirk, smirk. Come on, be honest. I’m willing to entertain any suspects dishing up tomes to feed the intelligence hunger of Americans anyone is willing to offer up. Is it fair to argue that the fact that books in any form are still being produced by American publishers for the market is a good sign that we’ve not been entirely written off as complete morons–yet? Big Big Sky is definitely not mental junk food for a dumbed down Young Adult audience. The very talented Kristyn Dunnion makes the most of every page to infiltrate and stretch the imagination of whoever picks up this totally engaging novel which raises a multitude of issues about blind obedience, genetic manipulation, love, leadership. loyalty and survival of the fittest–”Decline, Deform, Disobey.” This is one hell of a science fiction/fantasy adventure into uncharted waters and beyond for the all female crew of a StarPod of young assassins: Rustle, Loo, Solomon, Shona and Roku. Dunnion creates a tightly controlled world of young people trained by ScanMans to exterminate other humans. Then Dunnion turns the tables on the core group and soon they’re deep in a swim for their own lives to the lands beyond the mountain of total mind control. There’s good language craft fun with all the lingo Dunnion devises for this unruly passel of rampaging lasses as the plot unfolds from the shifting perspectives of each. You don’t have to be a teenager or a female to jump into this novel and enjoy it immensely. Keeping an open mind about love relationships and science fiction could be a tad useful at the onset–until the characters themselves yanky yank you into their world of troubles and tribulations and transformations. Ever dream of becoming a big bird? How about an amphibian? What’s your control freak conformity factor? All is fair in love and war, right?
I’m eagerly awaiting more of Kristyn Dunnion’s wicked writing wonders. I promise to share with the other girls nice nice.
See what else is on the reading plates at Red Deer Press http://www.reddeerpress.com/
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May 21, 2012 at 11:27 pm (creative writing, culture, education, entertainment, ethics, fiction, life, literary fiction, politics, publishing, random, Writing)
Tags: Book, books, creative writing, culture, Economy, entertainment, fiction, Hub City Press, illegal, immigrants, immigration, Independent Press, Issues, life, literary, love, love story, Mexico, Michel, politics, publishing, random, reading, review, Roxie's Blog, South Carolina, Stone, story, The Iguana Tree, Writing
“Tonight Hector would call Lilia and tell of the funny gringo’s joke, of the alligator who lived beside the beautiful river beyond the trees, and of the senora’s skills in driving the tree-digging machine. He’d describe the colorful sunset and the way the pale full moon rose above the field just as it rose in their village. He’d tell her of the optimism brimming inside him, his confidence in their future, in the reality of his dreams for them.”
.
O hell, I’ve been on a review whirl-a-gig ride just long enough now to wonder what if I can pull off a decent enough conversation to actually encourage anyone out there in cyberspace to read something really worth reading. Yes, I want to encourage folks looking for contemporary American fiction with substance and bite to consider The Iguana Tree by Michel Stone via Hub City Press, an independent publisher flourishing in South Carolina. This title came my via one of Roxie’s posts and the title intrigued me enough to put in a library request which plopped Stone’s tome in my greedy reading palms within a day. I like The Iguana Tree very much because it’s a dam good piece of writing. Now I doubt that statement will get anyone else scrambling to lay hands on a copy. So let’s try this: I would like to force read this book to that Huppenthal dictator of Public Education in the state of Arizona where some folks don’t want others getting any ideas about their own self-worth. Or this: If you have no clue why the English Language Only movement is insulting and doomed to failure in the U.S. of A–then The Iguana Tree might be a first step in comprehending the issues of migration–legal and illegal–and why people from Mexico risk their lives to come to this not so sweet land of opportunity. Or this: Many folks fear hordes of illegal immigrants so much that they think building walls will steam the flow northward. Well those folks need to think again about that wall building. Guess what, it’s not going to keep anyone anywhere. If you read The Iguana Tree you’ll understand better why such walls are useless to prevent desperate people from migrating to where they perceive there are greener grasses agrowing. O and by the way, even if your family has been on American soil for 500 years–they’re still all from immigrants who came here for many of the same reasons espoused by modern-day immigrants–and an argument can be made that unless you’re a full-blooded member of one of the 500 plus Indigenous Nations that you’re an invasive non-native species that emigrated from another homeland nowhere near Plymouth Rock. How am I doing on that patriotically offensive scale rating so far? Give me more words and I may crank it up a few more notches. Hey, my people didn’t settle stateside until around 1914 when they decided they’d had enough of living in the middle of one of Europe’s favorite battlegrounds. Yet I’m aware that even knowledge of one’s own family history of migration does not breed compassion nor understanding in the minds and hearts of many modern Americans who are threatened by anyone not like themselves. Or this: So I ask do, you know who picks those strawberries, avocados and tomatoes we all enjoy finding at the American grocery store all year round? Hint, not the sort of folks who used to work in Detroit building automobiles–and I doubt those folks would work for the wages or under the conditions of migrant workers. Furthermore, if the folks who put their lives, hopes and dreams in the hands of the human variety of coyotes (who give the real critter by the same name an EVIL reputation) could make decent livings in their places of origin I doubt they’d be motivated to experience the adventures of Hector and Lilia in The Iguana Tree. I sure as hell would not. I don’t think I’d be willing to place bets on finding employment with the likes of Lucas and Elizabeth in South Carolina. These are people who seriously need Hector’s willingness to work hard as much as he needs the employment opportunity their tree farm offers.
The Iguana Tree does not offer up any nice neat little packaged political economic solutions. What it does offer is some insight into the hearts and minds of real people all trying very hard to do more than just survive in a harsh world full of obstacles and hazardous conditions. If you don’t care about someone in this book then there’s something wrong with your internal tic tocker for sure. It’s your heart Michel Stone is trying to touch with this story of bitter hopes. Stone writes deftly and candidly about the horrors of border crossings, lives lived in fear of deportation, families separated, sudden injury, death, identity issues, language and cultural barriers. Being an illegal immigrant in the United States is no picnic in the park. The Iguana Tree presents the high cost of “coming to America” as such that this qualifies as a modern shop of horrors–exploitation, greed, corruption, rape, child theft. What truly is painful is that this well crafted work of fiction reflects an all too real grim reality. Stone softens The Iguana Tree with elements of friendship, love, and relationships built on mutual benefit. There is the suggestion that the only way to humanely deal with the issue of illegal immigration is with humanity and treating people as valuable in their own rights.
So I hope you soon meet Hector, Lilia, Miguel, Pablo, Lucas, Elizabeth, Carlos and Rosa. If you’re an American wondering what the hell is going on at the border between Mexico and the United States maybe you’ll get a few ideas. I’m not saying you’ll like what you learn. But you might gain a sense of the human complexity of what motivates illegal migration. I seriously doubt The Iguana Tree will bore anyone. It might make you want to visit Puerto Isadore or South Carolina–legally, of course.
By the way, The Iguana Tree is a story about love.
Hub City Press link http://www.hubcity.org/press/
Roxie’s blog post regarding The Iguana Tree http://roxieh.wordpress.com/2012/05/14/top-twos-day-physical-photos-and-layers/
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May 20, 2012 at 5:10 pm (creative writing, culture, entertainment, fiction, humor, life, literary fiction, publishing, random, Writing)
Tags: American, Book, book review, books, creative wrting, culture, entertainment, fiction, Ghost Lights, humor, life, literary fiction, Lydia, MIllet, publishing, Pulitzer, random, reading, review, Writing
I picked up Lydia Millet’s Ghost Lights at a time when my brainpan needed serious distraction from stewing in its own juices. “Pulitzer finalist” on the book jacket caught my eye and I wondered what sort of contemporary work of fiction would fit that bill. Hence I decided to give the tome a chance even though the first pages concerning a three-legged dog did nothing to capture my interest. Now perhaps I’m missing something here as this is touted as the second book of a trilogy. Hmm. Okay well I am going to continue missing that special something that comes from the second book in a trilogy of which I have not read the first installment. I’m going to continue the ‘missing’ because I’ve no intentions of reading the first part of the trilogy, How the Dead Dream, in order to get up to speed on whatever I’m missing. Nor do I have any plans to read part three. Why not? It’s not because MIllet can’t write–she can. The prose flows easily across the pages requiring no effort from the reader at all. I’m not going to read any further backward or forward because there are more interesting books to read and for the following reasons directly related to Ghost Lights:
I do not care about middle-aged men who work for the Internal Revenue Service.
I do not care about middle-aged men who are upset to learn that their wives are being sexually active with males other than themselves.
I do not care about a wife having sex with a younger man than her husband.
I do not care about a middle-aged man who learns his crippled daughter is making a living doing phone sex.
I do not care that a crippled woman has found that phone sex is the most lucrative way to support herself.
I do not care about a middle-aged Tax Man who goes off to find a man he doesn’t even like just to get away from his issues.
I do not care about Tax Man going agog over a beautiful German woman and her husband and two boys.
I do not care about Tax Man having his dream of ‘sex on the beach’ with beautiful German woman come true.
I do not care about Tax Man having no clue what mess he’s walked into by his weak efforts to find the missing T-man.
I do not care about ignorant man befuddled by German woman’s ignorance of the issues of the Indigenous Guatemalan population.
I do not care about any of these characters because Millet provides absolutely no reason why I should care about them. Beautiful breasts of German women do not engage my interest. The three-legged dog seems to have been some sort of red herring. The crippled daughter operates as a sort of sympathy plea. The adulterous wife is so much shallow contemporary American woman that the character construction isn’t worth the effort to sneer at her. The Tax Man — is–well he’s the Tax Man nursing a Tin Man’s heart of sorts. Did I miss something of vital importance between the hardback covers of Ghost Lights? Did I? If so and you know what it is please drop a line and tell me. I’d really like to know. –Oh and NO the concluding pages of the book will not suffice. I’m NOT buying that at all. Btw, if any of this book was supposed to be funny–I didn’t laugh. There are many types of humor–but I don’t recall stumbling over any form here. Perhaps I need to update my humor catalog?
Ghost Lights– link to excerpt http://www.lydiamillet.net/ghost_lights.html
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May 17, 2012 at 12:07 am (creative writing, culture, education, entertainment, fiction, humor, literary fiction, publishing, random, Writing)
Tags: Book, Christopher Golden, culture, entertainment, family, fiction, friendship, Ghostlights, golem, graphic novel, illustrated, Joe Golem and the Drowning City, life, Lower Manhattan, Lydia Millet, magic, Mike Mignola, Molly McHugh, novel, positive, publishing, random, reading, review, role models, sex on the beach, St. Martin's Press, steampunk, teenage girl, Writing
Fresh life is breathed into the old golem myth in this Mignola and Golden collaboration nicely served up by St. Martin’s Press this 2012. If you aren’t familiar with golems then you’re going to be if you go exploring these pages. Let me tell you this is more than an average air freshener generously illustrated with what appear to be black and off white woodcuts. (I seriously needed fresh air after delving into Ghostlights by Lydia Millet–more on that tome another time.) The art of Joe Golem is good, the square shape of the book is very pleasing and the liberally spaced text entices the eye to read, read, read– all 272 monstrous pages all day long until the back cover is reached and one can go no further–yet! I hope this is just the start of a steampunk fiction series for one major reason– Molly. Ah yes in a time of teenage girls all agog over the likes of Lady Gaga (gag) comes the likes of Molly McHugh who knows there’s much more to life and people than shallow celebrities and everlasting lip-glossiness. Intelligent, resourceful, tough and damn fast on her feet Molly is my kind of heroine. Need a positive strong role model for the fourteen year old female in your abode whose fingertips are superglued to texting? Well Molly just might be the ticket to more stewing on a girl’s brainpan than speed dialing her wit challenged peers. Joe Golem reads like an expanded graphic novel–strong written and art images with much more text than usually offered in the graphic genre. It has monsters of both the human and non human variety. Its got action, suspense, and mystery! It’s FUN to run with Molly–she’d run any hollow-wood stuntwoman to death on the fire-escapes of the drowned lower Manhattan. It’s 1925 and the watery world is alive with certain sorts of magic–classy and ancient, wild, wonderful and wet– and strange portent dreams. It will make your heart pound to the tune of Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and then some when Joe battles the ever enlarging eels. It might break your heart when certain clock works stop ticking. It definitely should not bore you with another round of sex on the beach for the poor depressed tax man who has learned his wife is having an affair and his daughter does phone sex for a living (Oops, Ghostlights spoiler alert. My bad. I meant to refer to the drink–you knew that right? Yeah, I couldn’t lie to save my skin. A few more references to Ghostlights and I could knock that review off here via the old standard of compare and contrast–enjoyable read to not enjoyable read. In case you don’t know which is which at the moment just wait till I get to the Millet tome.) But you don’t have to be a fourteen year old girl to relish Joe Golem and the Drowning City. I’m certainly not. But I sure wish there were girls like Molly in the books I was reading at fourteen. Little Women never quite did it for me. One more thing I really like about this book–how it presents notions of friendship, loyalty and family. There is more to relationships than who shares your gene pool. Just ask Felix, Joe, Molly and Simon Church. They don’t need no crystal balls to see the truth–after all, crystal balls are just props for amateurs in life. Oh, by the way, this is a story about a girl whose best friend, a classy old magic man is kidnapped by a mad scientist and how the girl and her new friends. Joe and Simon, try to rescue him. Yes, it is. And then some.
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January 26, 2011 at 3:53 pm (art, creative writing, culture, drama, education, entertainment, ethics, exploring interconnectedness, history, life, literary fiction, nature, play, politics, random, Uncategorized)
Tags: Atomic Bombers, chamber music, community radio, education, entertainment, environment, ethics, history, KKFI, L.A.Theatre Works, media, music, nature, opinion, people, play, playwriting, politics, radio, Radio Redux, random, Science, theatre, Writing
If the idiot box offers nothing for your viewing pleasure tonight, then try tuning into L. A. Theatre Works on www.kkfi.org streaming online and pleasure your ears with Atomic Bombers a play by Russell Vandenbroucke. Atomic Bombers will explode online Wednesday, January 26 at 7 pm CST. KKFI offers L.A. Theatre works every Wednesday immediately after the Radio Redux. Afterwards there’s Chamber Music with Dr. Mike.
So pop your favorite corn, pour your libation of choice, get warm and cozy with your treasured blankie and turn up the volume on your radio (90.1 fm KKFI in Kansas City) or computer (via www.kkfi.org).
Catch some truly MAD Scientists in their quest to create the means of ultimate destruction. Oh yes, truths are always stranger than fictions.
click Atomic Bombers to visit L. A. Theatre Works
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January 17, 2011 at 1:43 am (art, buddhism, creative writing, culture, education, environment, ethics, exploring interconnectedness, fiction, food, history, humor, journalism, life, literary fiction, movies, music, nature, photography, play, poetry, politics, publishing, random, religion, satire, Writing)
Tags: art, blog, bloggers, blogging, buddhism, creative writing, culture, education, environment, history, human rights, humor, inspiration, Issues, journalism, life, media, music, musings, nature, news, opinion, peace, people, philosophy, photography, plea, poetry, politics, post, random, religion, social justice, Uncategorized, values, Writing
Bloggers blog, right? Duh. We write short and long posts about everything from sex and drugs to forest slugs and oil spill slime. There are over 300,000 bloggers just in WordPress land. Lots more in the cyber-space beyond. Blogging goes on around the globe. In WordPress we find each other via tags and networking. We can connect with people in different time zones all day long. We work the world-wide web like cyber demons sharing our humor, poems, paintings, photographs, pains, joys, news, opinions, and everything else under the sun. I wonder how many bloggers would blog a plea for world peace. Just one blog post in the manner of one’s choice–poem, art, music, just a simple few words to signify that you desire peace around the world. How many bloggers would blog for peace? I don’t know. I am curious. Shall we find out?
If you blog a plea for peace in the world please leave a link to your peace post.
Shanti Om Visualize PEACE
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November 20, 2010 at 9:58 pm (culture, education, entertainment, environment, ethics, fiction, history, Indigenous People, Lakota, life, literary fiction, Native Americans, random, religion, Uncategorized, Writing)
Tags: Beautiful Day, books, culture, Deloria, education, Ella Cara Deloria, ethics, family, grief, history, Indigenous, Issues, Lakota, Native American Heritage Month, Native Americans, people, Sioux, Voices from the Gaps, Waterlily, women, Writing
Clicking on Beautiful Day’s image will take you to Voices from the Gaps and more information about Ella Cara Deloria and others.
It’s Native American Heritage Month and today’s highlight is the incredible Ella Cara Deloria’s work Waterlily which is a fictional presentation of years of her field research regading women in Lakota, Dakota and Nakota culture pre-white contact. In an effort to make her information accessible to the general reading white public, Ella ‘packaged’ her first hand research of tradional Sioux culture in a novel. Deloria wanted to enhance understanding of Sioux culture, values and history for white audiences while perserving a record of this cultural information. Waterlily is the only such work of its kind–it’s about Sioux women, written by an educated Sioux woman based on the sharing of direct knowledge by women who lived the traditional ways. “It was a way of life that worked.” Deloria, Speaking of Indians. If you’re interested in taking a journey through a different way of living during a very different time, Ella offers such an adventure. 
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November 14, 2010 at 2:55 pm (art, creative writing, culture, entertainment, fiction, history, humor, life, literary fiction, play, poetry, random, Writing)
Tags: art, culture, Dickens, Echostains, entertainment, fiction, humor, illustrations, poem, poetry, random, Writing
I could claim this is a touch of lightning the tone of things in my blogcasa, but all things considered, I’m not sure that’s exactly accurate. Afterall Charles Dickens did delve into some very dark hearts and minds in his writing adventures. So–I won’t claim an effort of offering some comic relief with this advertising of a poetry challenge over at Echostains’ artistic musings. You can surf there via Mr. Dickens’ mug shot just for the illustrations and chatter. Kick around the artwork for a bit and decide if you’d like to poem play with some Dickenson devious delight for everyone’s bemusement–or bewilderment. My only decent for public consumption–so far–poetic devilment prompted by Dickens is residing at Echostains’ Bookstains. IF I can clean up my poem-making regarding this poetic drama I will post my most respectable effort here. Yes, I am trying hard to refrain from that ‘mature audiences only’ rating. It’s been tough though as my mind seems to have decided it only wants to swim in the gutter rut of what’s in a name like Dickens’.
o damn,
color me ‘pink’
because at the moment
suggestive wink winks are all I can think
-I will attempt to get past these indiscreet
suggestions……o my…
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om mani padme hum jewel in the lotus wahupa qi prana universal life energy
