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.
“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 TheIguana 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 TheIguana 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 TheIguana 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.
Cloudman, guest poet, shares “ME” – a poem that references the infamous Nebraska town of Whiteclay where selling alcohol to the Lakota is the raison de existence.
Soon after the territory entered the public domain, a trading post was set up to sell alcohol to the Lakota, and merchants have continued to do so since. In 2010, its four beer stores sold an estimated 4.9 million 12-ounce cans of beer, an average of over 13,000 cans per day, for gross sales of 3 million dollars.[1] They have no place to consume beer on site, and it is not supposed to be drunk on the streets, but there are often inebriated customers sprawled around Whiteclay. John Yellow Bird King, president of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, says that tribal members bring alcohol illegally back from Whiteclay and “90 percent of criminal cases in the court system” are alcohol-related.[5] Beer is sold almost exclusively to residents from the reservation, as the nearest big city is two hours to the north.[5] According to Mary Frances Berry, the 10-year chair of the United States Commission on Civil Rights, Whiteclay can be said to exist only to sell beer to the Oglala Lakota.[6]
Victor Clarke, the owner of Arrowhead Foods, a grocery store in Whiteclay that does not sell alcohol, said he “did more than a million dollars in business last year, with an entirely Native American clientele.”[2] As the reservation has no banks and few stores, its residents spend most of their money in Nebraska border towns, for regular needs as well as alcohol. The beer stores in Whiteclay cash welfare and tax refund checks for the Oglala Lakota, taking a 3 percent commission.[5]
RANT ALERT! Forewarning–feel free to skip the first paragraph vent if you’re easily offended by ranting that does not bother with being politically correct. Thank you for your patience, forbearance and understanding.
Ever find your patience dramatically challenged by the inability to read or comprehend the written text? Sometimes this is the result of a language barrier. Sometimes it’s the result of fatigue. Sometimes it’s the result of a cultural divide. Sometimes it’s the result of misunderstanding a word or phrase. Sometimes it’s just plain poor reading comprehension skills. Sometimes it results from psychological triggers unexpectedly being set off by a word or phrase. Sometimes it’s just plain ignorance. Sometimes it’s the result of stupidity–yes stupidity for lack of a more accurate politically correct word. Sometimes it’s the result of a mental or physical illness (I suspect my brother’s inability to comprehend simple rational concepts in English is the result of the former rather than the later impairment as he seems to be functioning on the physical level. But I could be wrong about this conclusion. A coin flip could decide the issue better than I. But it won’t stop me from sending him a visit from a straightjacket brigade when I have the funds to do so.) Sometimes it’s the result of a cunning plan to mislead and dissuade folks from realizing one’s intentions. Sometimes it’s just the nature of legal documents. I could go on with these “Sometimes” but I will spare you such speculations. But do feel free to share your own insights and expand my perspective by doing so.
Oh and let me attempt to make one thing very clear— I do NOT support passage of SB 2109. Second clarification: Links are to petitions to STOP SB 2109– NOT in support of it. Are we all chill now? If this is in any way still unclear– polite and civil requests for clarification will be politely and civilly answered to the best of my ability to do so.
The following is basically a list of some items of interest regarding the continuing saga of SB 2109 which involves a deviously ambiguously constructed senate bill introduced by Senator Jon Kyl and Senator John McCain of Arizona. Reading the full text of the bill might drive you over the edge with its definitions and legalese language. Have your favorite painkiller/food comfort readily available as you explore the contents. I needed two rounds of ibuprofen, more coffee than normally consumed and a quantity of dark chocolate that I will not divulge in order to wade through the damn thing. Yes, I do believe it was written to be confusing and hard to understand–deliberately. That’s right deliberately written for difficult reading. And that makes the easily comprehensible sections even more suspect in my paranoid brainpan. Gee, there’s a reason for writing that way–usually it’s to hide things in plain sight. O yes, asses need to be covered legally and writing such as this is great for covering asses like McCain and Kyl. I am so glad I am NOT a journalist with aspirations of total objectivity. I’d fail utterly as I am well aware of my limitations in this regard. But I’m not a reporter or journalist—soooooo ON with this blog show!
Follow whatever catches your interest. Thank you for visiting my blogcasa.
Following excerpt from Anne Minard’s article at Indian Country Today Media Network. In depth piece complete with decent map and some very wishy-washy verbal moves by the likes of Stanley Pollack. Gee, I wonder what motivates folks to write hard to comprehend legislature? Could it be in order to make it harder for people to comprehend and therefore oppose such legislation? OO never! (sarcasm).
Senator Kyl acknowledges in a public video about the bill that, “Legally, the Navajo Nation and Hopi tribe may assert claims to larger quantities of water [than are outlined in the settlement] but … they do not have the means to make use of those supplies in a safe and productive manner. “
Becenti disputes that. “In reality we do have a lot of water projects that we were talking about 30 years ago,” he said. “But every time we approach the United States government to approve them, they won’t.”
And Jihan Gearon, executive director of the Black Mesa Water Coalition, says the provisions that help shore up the future of the Navajo Generating Station are a direct affront to her group’s efforts to build renewable energy capacity across the reservation.
“As an organization, our goal is to shut down the Navajo Generating Station and transition to renewable energy development,” she said. The settlement, on the other hand, appears to be “part of this big strategy to keep the Navajo Generating Station going at the lowest possible cost. These things that they’re stipulating have nothing to do with who should be offered which water. Instead, they support unsustainable development that’s happening in northern Arizona
Via Native News Network: People being turned away from meeting at Tuba City Charter Hall due to room for only 200 inside. Speakers were set up outside for those not able to enter. Click photo to visit Native News Network site. Apparently people were told to ask questions only in Navajo and some were not allowed to ask questions.
From National Native News:
The following is the schedule of public forums on the Little Colorado River Water Rights. All meetings are scheduled at 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm at the respective location indicated.
April 17 Greyhills High School Auditorium, Tuba City
April 18 Pinon High School Auditorium, Pinon
April 19 Ganado Chapter House, Ganado
April 20 Oak Springs Chapter House, Oak Springs
April 24 Leupp Chapter House, Leupp
April 25 Teesto Chapter House, Teesto
April 26 Fort Defiance Chapter House, Fort Defiance
Take note that there are 110 Navajo communities–not just these 7 picked for meetings.
If you click on the colored sections of the map at the right of the page it will pull up the communities in each area – http://www.nndcd.org/
Dine’ poet Luci Tapahonso’s “Dust Precedes the Rain” seems appropriate for both a tip of the cyber hat to April as National Poetry Month –and to focus on the joys of water, especially rain–water that falls from the sky.
“The water from the sink is no good for making pottery.
It just ruins it,” my children’s Acoma grandmother would say.
Thereafter she sent the kids to replace the full bowls of rainwater
that had filled since it began to rain.
Her son said that when he was a child, the rain smelled
and tasted so good–he and other kids played outside,
laughing and running around–and they stopped once in a while to lick
the cool adobe walls . The sides of the smooth houses were
fragrant and nurturing. From atop the mesa at Acoma Pueblo,
it is possible to see almost seventy miles in each direction.
It is the same on the reservations surrounding Phoenix.
Long before the rains come, the gentle desert wind
carries the scent of rain, wild plants flutter anxiously,
and pets frolic, acting silly. To the west, the thunderheads
loom dark and full. Thin waves of dust precede the rain,
rolling tumbleweeds and bits of paper, and the children run and skip,
allowing the wind to push them along. They yell and laugh.
The lilting sounds ae carried eastward by the blowing slants
of rain–their laughs and shouts caught in the leaves of sturdy trees.
They linger in the crevices of small hills and arroyos
and finally swirl into the slopes of the purple mountains nearby.
It must have been the same when the Hohokamiki lived here
where the expressway crosses over. The children played
in the dust- charged breezes, shouting and running in circles,
and when the rains began, they paused, their faces turned upward
to taste the cool clean rain.
Their quiet gratitude for brimming pots of water remains
now in the crumbling re-buried walls fo their small homes.
The still concentration with which they painted pottery
remains in the small toys and tiny woven sandals that are unearthed:
their spirits remain in the dry grains of dirt
that were dug up by shovels, backhoes, and bulldozers.
This is evident in the persistence of the bright wild plants
that push their way out of the dry ground.
This is evident in the new growth that springs up
along the arroyos and streams following sudden rains.
This is evident in the island of peaceful silence
that the museum cradles amid the city’s frenzy.
This is evident in the restless energy of the busloads
of children who visit the old homes of the Hohokamiki today.
They recognize the old history that is theirs.
They recognize the old history that is ours.
@Luci Tapahonso, “Dust Precedes the Rain” from Blue Horses Rush In, University of Arizona Press
Hello everyone to whom I’ve been AWOL for so long. Just have been pre-occupied with streams of Occupy online and other things offline. Hope everyone is well and is surviving whatever winter is throwing your way weatherwise. It’s COLD here but nothing to complain about. Looking forward to visiting many blogcasas very soon. Something that came up in a recent occupy livestream chat was the lack of comprehension of word ‘play’ on the part of many Americans. Apparently our educational system offers NO appreciation of the finer points of the English language and hence our sense of humor is stunted by our lack of appreciation for clever turns of phrases. Some of you poets will probably beg to differ on this account. But–believe me it is a valid a concern time and time again in many occupy chats where random segments of the global population consort daily. Some humor simply does not come across well in text. Others fail to comprehend multiple meanings of words. And there are many forms of self-expression from individual communities that take time and patience to decipher. This goes beyond the texting genre. Though that also comes into play in the chat stream in various incarnations. Best thing to do when at a loss is to ask for definitions–some are obvious, some bewildering and others very enlightening and useful. It’s an ongoing exercise in communication on a global level. So–when I use the word “wicked” to herald the new year –I have a variety of meanings and associations with “wicked” that vary from slang to formal dictionary traditional meanings–very cool and wonderful to downright evil. While hoping 2012 is indeed a wonderful and exciting new year for everyone in all the possible positive ways this is tempered with the awareness of the president signing the National Defence Authorization Act on New Years Eve when many people were paying NO attention to this potentially evil little legislative ‘delight’. So–while every ‘new’ year brims with creative positive potential it also brims with all sorts of new negative hatchings as well. And so it goes…..
For the moment–Chocolate truffles for everyone! But don’t you dare fall asleep under the table this new year or there may be hell to pay……. Mic Check!
Doing an internet search of NDAA ought to bring you up to speed fairly quickly. You might want to have your favorite libations or comfort foods handy while discovering what’s happened.
Violating copyright births bad karma---imagine a mad hacker you'll never see coming--nor catch going. Respect = my work is my work and your work is your work.
Everything posted here is my work, copyrighted, unless otherwise noted. Comments aside. Om
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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.
om mani padme hum jewel in the lotus wahupa qi prana universal life energy
