All The World's A Stage

A playwright is like God. She looks down on her world sets the scene, populates it, plots it decides it's outcome. If it ends with a wedding, it's a comedy, If it ends with a funeral, it's a tragedy. She or He gives us a passport to a new world, exotic, mundane, impossible, beautiful and sometimes very very ugly, just like life, only at the theater we are the audience and that makes it more comfortable.

We have just had the privilege of attending the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. We did not get tickets to one of the Bard's classics , 12th Night, or the Merchant of Venice, playing in honor of the Festivals 75th anniversary. No, Honestly I am not a fan of Shakespeare I respect the man greatly, but it's too much work for me. I liked The film Shakespeare In Love more than I liked Romeo and Juliet. It's hard to admit that, but it's the truth. We stayed on the fringe of the Festival and we were lucky to see the World Premiere of American Night, a collaborative creation by the legendary socio-political comedy team known as, Culture Clash . In it, We follow, or maybe chase would be a better verb, the story of a young Mexican father, Juan Jose, separated from his Wife and new baby, still in Mexico, while he jumps through hoops of hope and prepares himself for the exam to become an American Citizen. Set against a simple steel backdrop, first graffiti'd with the phrase, "Borders are scars on the Land", in Spanish Juan Jose's journey begins with his trek across the dessert as the Projector screen shows us how Juan walked to America. We catch up with Juan Jose' the night before his exam, cheered on by his two new Mormon friends hoping that he not only switches countries, but deities as well, to help them spread the good word to his gente latino. This is just one minor, yet sharp note in this brilliant Operatic Comedy that takes us on a fantastic journey to the center of American History through the dream state of our Hero Juan Jose'. This play, a by product of over thirty years of collaboration between richard Montoya, Herbert Siguenza, who also star, and Ric Salinas of Culture Clash, think Latino Mime Troupe, In American Night we are given a thorough History lesson, peppered with pernicious pop culture, beginning at the end of the Mexican American war and the Signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hildago where upon doing so Mexico surrenders lands from California, New Mexico, Arizona and Texas. In his dream, as the signature on the treaty, Juan Jose makes himself a fugitive in what just five minutes ago was HIS country The irony starts there and does not stop as Juan travels through the time line as if on a skate board through the ages pausing only to mark undocumented moments in history that give a more diverse sense of who we are as Americans like, Viola Pettus the Black Florence Nightengale of Texas, who in the days of the Spanish Influenza even treated KKK members , deftly delivering the notion that there are good people in the world even if they don't make history. And even though our country is fraught with racism with the modern likes of Sherif Joe Arpaio and Governor Jan Brewer and divisions that linger from the original buying, selling, and stealing of American, this is still a place where dreams can come true. The metaphor of the dream of Juan Jose, conjures the current day, Dream Act, that would give undocumented immigrants a new lease on life. May it be so. Then Last night we attended, in the same theater, miraculously transformed into the Congolese Jungle. a chilling thrilling work of Pulitzer winning playwright, Lynn Nottage, called Ruined. This Play harkens to Brecht's Mother Courage, yet is set in Present day Congo, where Coltan ( a main ingredient in our precious cell phones) is the new Gold and Soldiers and Rebels Kill and Maim with impunity to control the resources and extract revenge for the taking of their indigenous lands. We are at Mama Nadi's place deep in Jungle Land. She provides a refuge for girls, young women who must flee their villages for their fate is sealed. They will be killed or worse they will be raped in such violent sadistic ways that their bodies are ruined for life. Mami offers them her protection, but at the same time they are for sale to soldiers who come to drink the beer and eat the maboke. Though this work is deeply disturbing, painful to witness for 2 and one half hours, it penetrates the audience, completely. The story revolves around Mami and three women who are under her wing. Sophie, Ruined at the edge of a soldiers Bayonet, Salima, who's body was not only ruined by soldiers the day her husband went to buy her a much wanted new pot, but her baby, Beatriz, is killed under a soldiers boot, and Josephine, once a chief's daughter,now a beautiful play toy for hungry ugly men. Kimberly Scott, who was also a member of American nights ensemble, portrays Mami Nadi with enormous courage, presence, and moral ambiguity, yet exudes an unflinching strength in the art of survival. She is a huge presence on the stage, tending her bar, unabashedly catering to the militia men, at the same time aptly feathering her own jungle nest. the arc of this character is so strong we know that life will go on, no matter what. I am heartened when not only am I in tears at the end of the play, but I see men crying as well. Especially regarding this subject matter and the brilliant thing is, though we witness the terrifying irrational, chaos of men with guns and unintelligible conflicts that change from day to day, somehow, out of this endless quagmire the playwright shows us human beings are ultimately resilient, alive and willing to love. that's the thing of life, which art imitates or vice a versa, if one can find humor and love then it's worth the trouble. We can sustain ourselves not only through our own testimonies, but in the theater we bare witness, and safe in the audience we can experience lives we can only imagine, or couldn't possibly. It is good to remember in these unpredictable, somewhat unbearable times that this is just a story we live in and everyday we turn the page. I invite you to become the playwright, director and Actor in this life. I guess Shakespeare said it best in As You Like it, "All the World's a stage"

Total Eclipse of the The Sun

The Tides they are a Turning

A small group of us held a sacred ritual on Big River Beach Sunday, July 11th at the same time of the total solar eclipse. Only visible in the Chile, Argentina and Peru, the moon blocked the sun for a time and certainly appeared more powerful than the sky king. How symbolic! Now some might say, a solar eclipse? So what? As if to suggest that universal, cosmic events are unimportant, folderol, and fiddle-de-dee.

It seems a bit arrogant to me to think the intelligent design, the precise chemistry and balance of the universe, our perfect solar system, which affords us life on earth has no influence in our oh so very important existence. Many of the rulers of the past related themselves to the Sun. The patriarchy claims the sky as it's domain; think, "our father who art in heaven." The most obvious connotation is that when a boy child is born he of course is the "son". Well, being a lover of linguistics and divine metaphors, as you know I am. I must act accordingly.

In acknowledging the metaphor of the feminine moon eclipsing the masculine sun, we give credence to idea that using ritual, in tune with the forces of nature, will bring radical change, challenging the patriarchal rule of that has dominated our planet for thousands of years. As the moon eclipsed the sun, the new moon went into Cancer.

Some say astrology and numerology is a bunch of hooey, but when I reflect on the calendar and recent catastrophic events like the invasion of Iraq on the eve Spring equinox in 2003, or the explosion of the Deepwater Horizon on 4/20, I think there is a method to the madness. 911 certainly has, and always will have, enormous numerical significance. So, on 7/11 (connotation noted), we hitched a ritual of weeping and wailing to a truly physical phenomenon in our cosmological cycle. The act of doing so gives us context for the arc of our revolution, which is a movement to find balance on planet earth.

The sign of Cancer is about home. Women have a traditional connection to the moon. It is ancient and aligns us with nature's rhythms as we experience our menstrual cycle. In fact, some women indicate they are bleeding by saying they are on their "moon" or "moon-struating." Maybe you've heard of the moon hut, a term referring the place where women retreat to use the power of their cycle to dream, to prophesize, to nurture and refresh themselves.

The tides rule us all, yet as women, our wombs, like the sea, are the environment for life to come to fruition. Humans are undeniably ruled by water because we are full of it. Our bodies are over 60% water. We are all deeply involved in that way. No one can deny it. It is time to raise the feminine "yin" dark, watery presence to her rightful position. Really-- what else on earth are we supposed to do to address these overwhelming crises? Well, for one thing, having a good cry is the first step toward our own well being. Sorrow is a natural response to the dire circumstances of war and oil disasters that humanity and our other living relatives are facing.

So our circle of women had a good cry, in reverence, in grief, and in awe, as we stood in the presence of our Mendocino Coast's precious green, healthy, mystical, living, giving ocean. Our salt tears filled to the brim with pain, compassion, remorse, gratitude, as we called out "We hear you." We hear Our Mother calling out. We hear dolphins, whales, turtles, krill, and coral beds. We feel their suffering, in our wombs, and in our bloodstreams, and we hear the call. Our friend, Lisa Denning, whose underwater film exhibit, Ocean, came to Oddfellow’s Hall this weekend, provided us with a truly intimate chance to see, and virtually swim, with the dolphins she filmed off the coast of Oahu.

We discussed the tragedy of the Gulf Oil Leak. Lisa said that dolphins are highly intelligent species, and they are mostly evacuating the premises, but there are those pods that are sacrificing themselves. They are swimming through the oil plumes to make a stand, to reach out to us, to see if we notice, if we react. If we change. We have no one to answer to but them. And we did.

In closing the ritual, our circle of women stood on the sand at the edge of the water. One of our sisters said, "The tides are turning." And sure enough, as she uttered her prayer intention, the tide instantly turned. We all got our feet wet and we had to laugh. Such is the nature of things. I then took out a bottle of essential oil in a blend called Hope. I dripped one drop of hope in the ocean and it rippled into the waves. That vibration touched every molecule in our oceans and resonated in our bodies. Believe it or not, it's all the same water. If there's anything that makes us one, it's water. Holy water, blessed water, sacred water.

10 Ways to Wean yourself From Oil

10 ways to wean ourselves from oil.

1. Make a Vow to refuse any extra plastic, whether it be bag of fork or cup or spoon. Say no thanks. Bring your own bag and that’s final.

2. Work to Outlaw Plastic bags in your neighborhood city or town

3. Do not buy water anymore. If you have to, do in the largest Bulk concentration you can. No more little bottles!

4. Write to companies that package things you like to buy encourage them to stop using so many tiny plastic bags for each component of the item. If they must do so, there are alternative wraps, some are made from soy bean.

5. Discourage manufacturing, Do your best to recycle, pass on everything and any thing. Learn how to fix stuff.

6. Work to legalize growing industrial Hemp as an alternative to fuel and plastic. Demand that your government listen!

7. Find alternative transportation. Use your car as little as possible, hardly at all unless you are using and electric car or Biodiesel

8. Tell others what you are doing

9. Put on solar panels, windmills, water mills,

10. Plant a garden and eat from it.

This disaster of plastic and oil will not be solved by these things alone, but it's a good start toward real independence and ingenuity.

Anarchists Rule!

My acupuncturist advised me that current events are taking a terrible toll on my psyche and body and it would behoove me to take a news fast for a few days. As I unwound from the headlines, I could clearly see the damage left in the wake. There are so many emotional, physical, and spiritual assaults in progress my trauma meter is on boing.

Yet, I still, in spite of everything, believe there are so many good people in the world who truly want to help, to make the world a better place and can. It is not because they are told to do so by a police officer, or the Board of Supervisors, or California Assembly member or a State Senator or a President. It is because, given the right circumstances and offered civility and respect, folks will behave themselves. Not only do we behave but, I find that we, the common people, (not to be confused with the small people) are better informed than anyone in those elected positions.

I'm always mystified when I listen to congressional hearings on any subject. Whether it be weapons of mass destruction, Wall Street collapses, global warming, the Gulf oil leak disaster, those who are in charge know considerably less than I do about the subject. Do they read newspapers, watch TV? They have enormous staffs that could do the research if they are pressed for time. Still, after creating reams and stacks of hearings and testimonies and records, they don't know what's going on.

I have a confession to make, I didn't vote in the last election. That's a first for me. I struggled with the decision for a while, thinking, how couldn't I? What about those unfortunate subjects who are ruled by dictators, and how people fought and died for my right to vote, and doesn't voting make us a democracy? How could I refuse my civil obligation? But today as I return to the headlines I feel vindicated because life is spiraling out of control and I am not impressed with Democracy. I am sick of it.

The recent installation of democracy in the Middle East has been possibly one of the most destructive events ever, as far as the cradle of civilization is concerned. Yet, news analysts are wondering why there are protests in Toronto at the G20 summit.

It is because the G20 power brokers of the world have failed us completely? According to the media, a lot of the trouble in Toronto is generated by the Black Bloc, the anarchists. They are portrayed as violent hooligans and though I have seen them engage in property damage, usually directed at giant multinational corporations, I've never seen them assault another person, unlike the police dispatched to disrupt the protests. Are the anarchists the instigators?Maybe. I suppose it has nothing to do with the five miles of perimeter fence protecting plutocrats. It has nothing to do with the billions spent on unprecedented numbers of RoboCops in downtown Toronto. It has nothing to do with the fact that we are looking at the end of the world as we know it.

I, myself, have been to a few of these summits and the only reason I've gone was to represent myself because not one elected officials represents me. I hate it when pundits speak about “what the American people want.” I don't know if they've asked you, but they sure haven't asked me and I've been knocking on their doors for many years. Haven't you?

I believe any one of you listening to this broadcast could have made better decisions in the name of our collective progress. I believe that anyone listening to me has a moral compass, a capacity for logic, compassion for the most vulnerable among us, and an ingenuity, that with the right backing, could create a darn near utopia.

Seems like anarchy has gotten a bad rap. But I like the truth of it. Leo Tolstoy, Russian novelist and Christian anarchist said, "Government is an association of men who do violence to the rest of us." Dr. Marx E. Lazarus, an American anarchist, who said, "Every vote for a governing office is an instrument for enslaving me."

I experienced a downright upright example of anarchy this weekend at the Kate Wolf Festival in Laytonville at Black Oak Ranch. It was a gathering of thousands and not one police officer or elected person officiated at the event. There were rules, like no pets. Most agreed that was a good idea, what with all the little kids and bare feet. All weekend long folks were courteous, kind, and cleaned up after themselves. There were crews of volunteers who had their assigned tasks and carried them out with style and humor. Even the Porta-Potty guys had a good attitude. Folks smiled, danced, sang together, ate together, and not one incident of violence, although there was nudity, marijuana smoking, and even some wine and beer. Everyone governed themselves.

People do their best to be good folk, with nobody having to tell them this is right, and this is wrong. Still, if you make a mistake along the way, break someone's heart, or your own, you better look to yourself for the answers, for the solutions, and for the way to behave in a world full of dangerous hypocrisy. As Emma Goldman said " All government is tyranny.” Says Emerson, “It matters not whether it is government by divine right or majority rule. In every instance it's aim is the absolute subordination of the individual." I'm looking forward to Independence Day. Literally.

Teed Off! For Father's Day/Summer Solstice

Teed off!

First off I'd like to recognize and honor the pagans among us. Happy Summer Solstice. May the season bring forth an abundant garden, sensual and warm from the fertile ground. It is the season of Fire beware. Many celebrated the turning of the wheel this past weekend along with the custom of Father's day. now that's a sensitive subject for a lot of fatherless girls in my life, including my own kids. I know that Mother's Day was started in 1908 by Julia Ward Howe as a way to address war and advocate for peace. But I can't figure out for the life of me why father's day came to be. Because It's a man's world every day of the week. I had a loving and supportive father. And I honored him in life and remember him well in death. I Hope for all you papas out there that are present and accounted for with your families, that you had a good day. For me it is a time of confusion painful reflection because it was on father's day weekend 13 years ago that my husband and the father of my two daughters disappeared into thin air never to be seen again. One of the disturbing facts of his mysterious departure is that he vanished off the 13th hole at Rancho Canada golf course in Carmel California. All that was left were his clubs and cart. Our little Honda Civic was in the parking lot with his wallet and shoes. Since that day I have had a deep seeded disdain, outright hatred of Golf. So when I heard about the CEO of BP at the Yacht races this past weekend and our own President and Vice President running off together to play golf instead of dealing with the Gulf. I emotionally hit the roof. I do believe that everyone has the right to rest and relaxation. It is key to our mental health and Well Being. But Golf! What a about a picnic with the family? Swimming in Hawaii and reminding us all of the beauty and sanctity of our Bodies of water. What about Bowling? A favorite Blue Collar past time? Golf was also on the front page of the SF Chronicle this weekend. Egad! Yes, Tiger Woods is back, another model of Fatherhood and devotion on the front Page. Golf. A friend said that it was no big deal that Obama was on the Golf Course, that he was doing the best he could with the Gulf and so he could Golf. The Best he could? I blurted. It's 60+ days later and still there are people sitting idly on the sidelines waiting for some kind of direction from the top. "But, hey", he countered, "what does Obama know about Oil Spills? and gosh he's got a new Director at the Mineral Management Services and by August we should have some kind of relief well drilled, so just calm down." Maybe I should play a round of Golf. I hate Golf. Golf is to me is the most elitist, egotistical, selfish, boring, sport ever played. My husband actually used to watch it on TV. I would stand in wonder. Can you even see the Ball. The thing is, you play for yourself and you alone. In racquet sports like Tennis you have to hit the ball to someone, it's actually a game, there's all the team sports from Baseball to Basketball and of course Soccer. I think I would have been more forgiving and patient if Obama had gone out to shoot some hoops with the locals. Or kicked around the Soccer Ball as a nod to the rest of the world who are at this very moment obsessed with the World cup. But Golf? It's the rich man's game. It is purely for is own score. One wants a low score, to be under par. Yet when one is feeling "a little under par", one is ill. See what I mean? One needs little if any stamina for golf, because the only physical exertion is the swing of a lightweight club. Sure you might get a good walk in, but most of the rich and greedy use the Carts and rumble over what used to be wild terrain and is now using precious water resources to keep the greens greener for the uber rich and spoiled. The club houses, the country clubs have undeniable histories of racism, sexism and without a doubt classism. Wretched. Didn't Bush play a round as Katrina was touching down. It's fascinating to connect the golf balls. One of the most famous Golf Ball brands is Titleist. I like to call it entitlist. Because these engorged plutocrats act as though they are entitled to everything they set their little hearts on and I do mean little literally. It's funny because for our first date, my husband took me to the golf course for a sunset round. I felt ridiculous and had no talent or inclination for hitting the tiny white ball way down below me. Greg could hit the sweet spot and it sounded pretty as it sailed off into the sky and bounced merrily down the manicured green some 200 yards away. I asked him that night why on earth he liked this sport. He said, "The fresh air and the courses had the best views in the world." He said this as we gazed out over the Torrey Pines in La Jolla. And as the sun set into the Pacific, quoting Dylan Thomas he said, Do not go gentle into that good night Rage against the dying of the light. It was the one who quoted poetry and shakespeare that I loved, but I should have run for the hills from the one who couldn't stop playing with his putter.

Oil wells That Ends Wells

I'm having trouble sleeping. My mind constantly searches for solutions to how anyone can live Beyond Petroleum at this point. I've sent out an e-mail titled ten+ ways to wean ourselves from petroleum, but as I go through my day I see Like Ani De Franco says, it is as easy as breathing for us all to participate.(Psst, it's in the plastic)I want to blame someone besides myself. I want someone accountable, like, the super rich Corporate bullies that have duped, lied, tricked robbed, raped, killed, maimed and are in the process of killing the water like the exec from BP who laments that he just wants his life back. I would respond to that but the radio station would have to pay an enormous fine to the FCC for obscentiy charges. I'll tell you what's obscene, The Oil Industrial Complex. We've seen these shananigans on the microcosmic level before, the tobacco industry operating in the same way. offering us cigarettes as safe and relaxing, flavorable and so and kiling us. Multiply that by a gillion and you have the malfeascence of the combustable engine brought to you by Oil Industry.

I know there are lots of other things going on in the world, like our local elections, our national shame when a woman has to shoot her self with a gun, to get urgent health care because she is uninsured. and of course the Israeli blockade of Gaza and the Red Cross Condemnation of such things that hurt the collective human body & soul. Locally we read about Cancer causing pesticides about to be approved in California. That's the dark side, then there's the light, the fabulous film festival last week, whose diverse,educationsl, inspiring, poignant images still linger on many a mind. A lot of us had cause to celebrate this past week as we attended a number of graduations. Our youngest daughter from 8th grade, two of our nieces from the Willits Charter School and a dear friend from Mendocino High School. And I must say these these kids are incandescent. Their faces, yes, their minds, brilliant, creative, Artists, scientists, farmers,Teachers, Soldiers. so diverse. there's definitely a hue of indigo around them. As I listened to the speeches, from faculty and students, their hopes and plans, oil seeped into the room. What future lies ahead? Is there a general consensus that everything just gonna be ok. That somehow, sometime in August they'll plug this thing and then we'll maybe get to clean up a trillion gallons of crude in the midst of strangling the water life and the coast line? I'm having a rough time coping. I pray everytime I see the ocean or it crosses my mind. I want to do more. But what? We hear from Z Budapest author of The Grandmother of Time and The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries says, women of the world are so terribly broken hearted. Sad as Sad can be, because of the ongoing wars and the ocean, a macrocosim of our wombs. Ugh. she says, men got us into this. we certainly need the strength and courage of men to get us out. I know without a doubt that we need our armed forces in the gulf right now. I heard that today Tankards will begin skimming the surface. I just wonder what took them so long. Where's the national guard, marines, navy seals? Oh yeah, there in the other Gulf dealing with a different kind of oil disaster.

That's the thing that blows my blowout preventer, the lack of response. According to Bob Gibson, a former an environmental scientist for 30 years, including work with Penzoil and the Stratgic Ptroleum Reserve in Southern Louisiana, "there have been documented far too many suspicious actions and inactions--both by BP and the US government--for this merely to be a case of ineptitude." Is it possible that this accident was on purpose, that the sick minds that brought you the oil wars, engineered this vile act of war on a new black president who was actually making progress in the world. Hello all you conspiracy theorists, Welcome to my paranoid world.( I probably shouldn't mention my reptilian theory right now) but remember just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they are not out to get you. Bob Gipson says the BP and service providers like Halliburton have known from Day One that they could totally stop the leak quickly by using explosive charges to collapse the upper wellshaft. the upper 100 to 200 feet. They know how to do this. Mr. gipson says and I quote, "this is an act of war".And while we have counted two so called, "World Wars", this is the definiton, for what we are experiencing now is a War against the World itself. What if the world responded as if it wear. That would mobilize every army in the world to defend her. Wouldn't it? It would be as though this were the most compelling service, not just to defend ones nation from enemies but our planet, At any rate, this is the utmost example of a National security threat yet When Sheba and I called Homeland Security to ask what they were doing to address the threat we were transferred to BP offices. Uh oh, who is in charge? Cnn reported today that coast guard is open to suggestions about how to stop the leak. My friend Antonia Lamb had an excellent solution to plug the leak. She said thaake the executives from BP, Haliibruton, Transocean and a couple of Mineral Magement services Deapartment heads and shove them into it. That'll stop it. And probably prevent any future "accidents."If we mobilize and survivie this world war. I know the graduates of 2010 will have a cascade of new jobs and opportunities, lawyers to sue all kinds of corporate clones, lots of class actions. New solidiers that clean up inseated of destory each other. Artist to keep our spirits high. Journalistes to report the truth. Scientists who put facts above faith. Lawmakers who respect the law. Farmers to plant hemp to replace fossil fuels. Yes, this could turn out all right. My friend Meridian reminded me yesterday, that with the monstrous ruination going on in the Gulf, that California and the West Coast are almost all but certain that there will be no drilling off our coast. Yes, this could be our ultimate wake up call and put an end to oil dependence. This could be the best thing that ever happened to us.because This could be the oil well that ends wells.

I Hate to Say I Told You So/ Mother's Day 2010

Yesterday was my first mother's day without my mother on earth. I know she is still with me, because I can hear her voice so clearly in my head. Her wisdom and humor and advice touch my life everyday.

Our mothers were famous for their sayings, like "Don't be such a big shot,take a jacket.You don't have the sense god gave green apples." "Don't talk with your mouth full." "Eat your vegetables." If you stop for a moment, and think about it, one of her admonitions will easily bubble up to the surface. She was right about so many things and it was always for "our own good". Yet in our immature adolescence, which is the stage that the human race seems to be stalled in, we talked back, ignored her, rolled our eyes and snuck out the window in the middle of the night to play chicken in the road or steal something from the neighbors. It was then, when he were up to our eyeballs in trouble, that she would unleash the ultimate in linguistic vanquishment. "I told you so."

Well, The awakened human beings of the earth for so long have been prophesying disaster on the (deep water) horizon when it comes to off-shore drilling. We've been saying lo these many years accidents will happen. and we cannot afford to pretend we have the intellegence or ability to respond to what we can barely conceive. The relentless dedication of those who love the earth beyond measure, our mother ocean, have said ad infanitum, this must stop we cannot drill into her body and expect no consequences. We raised our voices, layed down our bodies, linked our arms, wrote our letters, elected our representatives. We warned them. and We hate to say I told you so, but. The reason we hate to say I told you so is because the suffering that is upon us now could have been averted. The untenable reality that 200,000 gallons of crude oil is gushing into the Gulf of Mexico on a daily basis is not something we relish being right about, it's not satisfying to say I told you so. It is tragedy on top of tragedy. How do we atone. Our poor mother, grateful for her hallmark greeting cards and Sunday Brunch is a in unprecedented crisis. Sorry Mom. Sorry. What can we do? What can we say? Oh mother earth you are the source of all life and greatness. We Popped your cork, your holy ancient lubricant is unleashed into the wild waters. You are hemorrhaging mother and we are not doctors, like you hoped we'd become. We are Pirates. We are criminals and victims and we are all of us nursing at your many tits unconscious, never satisfied, never pacified, our voracious appetite devours all, we chew thru your nipple and expect you to comfort us and give us more succor. Rape becomes the ultimate metaphor, for we, without permission, penetrated your sea floor, your cervix, and then plunging deeper 30,000 more feet nearly piercing your heart. without council or hesitation, knowing we could, but not asking if we should. The enormity of the calamity stuns me into submission, futility is hovering dangerously close. We are the deer in the headlights about to be run over by a sweet crude petroleum 18 wheeler. We will be roadkill in the most ironic reversal of power. Power over has been our motto, and the dinosaur our mascot since the early 1900's, our razon' d etre for war and profit and the destruction of ecosystems from the Niger Delta to the Prince William sound to the Great Barrier Reef to the Gulf of Mexico. The Chief Executive Officers of these Corporations from Exxon, Shell, Chevron to BP to the dastardly Halliburton have been criminally negligent and yes, we are complicit. But, I suggest We need to make an example of the ones who engineered this unprecedented ecological disaster into action and destruction. A symbol that declares we are awake and responsible. Remember the punishment of Tar and feathering where a vigilante mob would pour boiling oil on the scoundrel and dump feathers over them as a way to inflict pain and suffering. Public humiliation. They would look like the breeding brown Pelicans who are tarred and feathered right now. I think it is the only appropriate retaliation against the greedy pirates of the sea. Tar and Feathering is not that hard because the feathers are already prepared. All we need are the criminals that frankly, prison is too comfortable for and the death penalty is too merciful. We want them to live on suffering along with all the wildlife and the human beings that have to go on and explain to their children what on earth they were thinking. Oh Mother forgive us, we should have listened.