10.01.2022,6:56 AM
Wet and webbed

Webbed membranes are appearing between my fingers. Perhaps all the greens I’ve been eating have methylated some genes and turned on those that express for webbed membranes in ducks and other aquatic avians and mammals. 

If I wake up with gills, I’ll know it’s time to get outa this place.  

Rain has been a daily thing for many weeks, minus the outlier day or 2 when we are bedazzled with a large orb of plasma that gives us a bright blue and dry sky. When that occurs a battery inside us gets charged and we wind up to bask and dance outside. 

Alas, another cool wet day, smothered in gray, and we fight the urge to curl up in a ball, letting go of awareness and consciousness. Part of our brain has closed its door and hung out a sign, “Due to inclement weather we have ceased functioning. Please feel free to become a zombie.”

So I walked to the fiber studio in the rain, picked up a coffee on the way, hung my wet clothes to dry, turned on the jazz station….And occasionally glance at my full special coffee mug.  😏


posted by Macrobe
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8.27.2020,5:53 PM
“Hell hath no terror like a woman’s fury.”

That was my answer when a friend asked me how I was. First, I looked at her and asked myself, ‘Should I show my fake smile and lie like a robot?’. Then I decided to be honest. 

The response to my reply was an up-tick of the eyebrows and peering over her glasses, with a loud silent ‘Ohh?’. 

The many inner dialogues have been argumentative, unsure, illogical, but all too human. I’m sure I’m not the only one panicking, sometimes a bit unsettling, other times trying to put a cork in the volcano. Keep physically busy to calm the mind, and the moment you let your guard down, the fury screams through the gate. But it goes nowhere. Because you bite your tongue and clamp your mouth shut. Instead you see the silent scream when you look in the mirror. 

I don’t want to be the biting dog barking all the time; we have too much of that already from the pulpits, the streets, and the White House. But I don’t want to be the Pollyanna, either. Sometimes I want to rub the faces of the Pollyannas in the shit that is being thrown around from all directions. “Here, take your joy-joy and your little dog, too. And get out of the way!”

In the past it all used to flow through my fingertips, but something broke, snapped, in 2013 and there’s no smooth conduit anymore. I’m not a writer,  although writing was always my cathersis. And I have asked myself since then why it doesn’t work anymore. I always jokingly tell myself I need a flash drive to insert in my brain. The monologues and stories are still there, but they always trip over the door sill and never make it out. Except the stupid juvenile ones that sprint past the door and spew fury. 

Then I found a perfect explanation by writer Jeremy Wade, “Tr*mp has traumatized so many of us to such an extent that attaching any positive descriptors to his name is infuriating. You don’t need me to tell you that’s a valid response. He is fascist garbage, and he’s responsible for some real heinous shit. I’m sorry for all the ways it’s affected you and the people you care about.” I feel partly vindicated, despite that it’s more than that ‘T Name I Cannot Speak.’

It’s not the virus, the pandemic, the social distancing, or wearing a face mask. I’m a biologist; I know the virus, what it is, how it works, what it does, and what I, we, need to do. I’m fine with that. It’s the politics, the history, and the humans. They are illogical, unreasonable, unintelligent, memory impaired, and blind to long-term consequences beyond their noses. And they would all rather fight against each other than try to work together to make this unfunny universe more a joy to live in. They are always right and everyone else is always wrong.

It’s also all the collateral damage. Everything we hear and read about the environment is unavoidable doomsday-esque. It’s hot, it’s on fire, polluted, becoming scarce, radioactive, dead and extinct animals, no more butterflies and bees, oil-covered ducks, fish with mercury, children drinking lead, calamitous storms, and not one acre on the planet without a human footprint. Instead we shove the flag of Planet Plastic waving over a scorched earth. I try to do more than recycle and reuse, but it’s like taking one grain of sand from the Saharan desert. Meanwhile, I’m surrounded by frenzied shoppers on their cell phones and their loud cars.

Then I found the perfect descriptor from the book, “Who Will Run the Frog Hospital?” (By Lorrie Moore): “The bad news of the world, like most of bad news, has no place to go. You take it to the bulletin board part of your heart. You say, ‘Look’. You say, ‘See’. That is all.”

This has been the bulletin board, translated and deciphered.  But there’s still a pin hole in my heart.

posted by Macrobe
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12.16.2019,4:57 PM
Both Sides
On Both Sides

It was the same dream 
so many times over
The last five decades.
But recently.....
Not in a long time.

Running on all fours,
Branches and leaves 
Snapping and sliding 
Along my body.
Breathing hard and fast
Tongue slipping from my muzzle
With each labored breath.

Odors stronger and sharper
Than ever before.
Each paw hitting the ground 
In asymmetrical gait.
The rush of oxygen through my lungs
Fueling my body.

A sense of Fear, 
And urgency.
Loping through the forest
branches reaching for my skin.

And a howl breaks loose
From my throat
While I stand still,
Between quick catches of breath.
Ears erect
And a nose full of aromas
Of life around me.
I am enveloped.

I sing a song
Of aloneness 
The howl echoes 
Off the mountain sides
And comes back to haunt me
Asking if I am human
Or canid.

And my answer 
Crawls on the human skin
And the fur I wear.

I am me.
That no one knows

Not even myself.
posted by Macrobe
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5.12.2019,11:25 AM
The Dark Ages in America

Alyssa Milano calls for sex strike as protest over Republican abortion laws

I think a more public protest and boycott would have more impact, but she is right in publicizing the warning. And if we women and men do not oppose and protest, we will truly be a third-world country and controlled by the power of dominating males.

I find it ironic that the republicans and conservatives want less restrictions and infringements of individual rights. Yet, when it comes to women, they want to control us and have all the power.

Hypocrisy at it’s worst and I have not a millisecond or micrometer of respect for anyone that is on that bandwagon. I don’t care if you are pro- or anti-abortion. It is a woman’s RIGHT to be able to make those decisions and have control over her own body.

If this continues, I propose we require a clamp on the epididymis of all men, and each male will have to get a permit to unclamp it and allow semen to pass.
See how that sits with y’all.

“We need to understand how dire the situation is across the country,” Milano said. “It’s reminding people that we have control over our own bodies and how we use them.”
She noted that women have historically withheld sex to protest or advocate for political reform. She cited how Iroquois women refused to have sex in the 1600s as a way to stop unregulated warfare. Most recently, she noted that Liberian women used a sex strike in 2003 to demand an end to a long-running civil war.
Milano said the criticism didn’t bother her and that her tweet was having her desired effect, “which is getting people to talk about the war on women”.
She said she feared one of the laws could eventually be decided by the conservative-leaning US supreme court, which Republicans hope will overturn the 1973 Roe v Wade decision legalizing abortion.
“That is absolutely horrifying to me,” Milano said. “Anyone who is not completely and totally outraged by this and doesn’t see where this is leading, I think, is not taking this threat seriously.”

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posted by Macrobe
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3.14.2018,9:23 AM
The Echo Chambers
Quotes from a newly released book — “Trumpocracy: The Corruption of the American Democracy” by David Frum, a senior Editor at The Atlantic.

A few excerpts from the introduction:

“President Trump has plunged the government of the United States into chaos that enhances his personal power.”

“He has persuaded millions of Americans to ignore information they need as fake news from a corrupt media.”

“He has allowed foreign states and local politicians to tamper with the integrity of American elections to his own benefit.”

“He demands that high officials disregard the law in favor of personal loyalty to him.”

“He has concentrated power in the hands of military men—better men than himself, but not the right hands for the job of civilian government.”

“He has alienated allies, appeased large enemies, and goaded small ones to the edge of war.”

“He has brutally inflamed the ethnic and class divisions that empowered him in the first place.”

“He has enriched himself in government in a way that disheartens every honest public official, and invites dishonest ones to imitate him.’

“But that cannot be the final word—and it will not be. We can choose our futures, not merely submit to them. Past generations of Americans have faced and overcome severer tests.”

We already know. But then again, what we know, and believe, flies in the face of what Teumo’s followers know and believe.

I don’t listen to the daily scandals and drama anymore (in all politics). It’s just as insipid and nauseating as the drama and gossip encounters in middle and high school. Their voices are talking heads and most what I see and hear is dirty laundry. I pay attention to what they do, and don’t do. And I’ve stepped out of the echo chamber.

Perhaps I’m jaded and disillusioned.  It is astounding and incredulous that in today’s modern world, and in a country that contributed to human and ecological advancement, people can be so hoodwinked, blind, and self-centered, even at their own deficit.

Rather than having my energy drained, it goes into what I can do, especially at the local level and with my votes.
posted by Macrobe
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2.13.2018,6:45 AM
The Dutchess!
Watching 'The Last Dukes' on PBS. Of Britain, of course.
All the pageantry, fuss, regality, enormity. The gigantic, and I mean very pregnant domiciles with pom-pom shrubs and expanses of green lawn (where's the sheep?).

I proclaim myself the landless Duchess of Nevermore! I reign over the snow piles pure from male dogs, the crows announce my presence, and I march with a shovel in my hand! 

I pay homage to Noone in the Kingdom of Winterblust, and the emblem for my duchessdom is a lake monster: a howling wolf with fins and a weird tail. My peasants are the birds, but they seem to have left for greener territory. How jolly can we be!

Where's my kilt?............
posted by Macrobe
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11.14.2017,9:20 PM
The Eternal Question
"Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

posted by Macrobe
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