2011

Walking the capitol lawn I hear strumming and drums a familiar rhythm in the distance. I followed the melody and came towards a circle of familiar faces.

Armed with Jaranas and Resisting on the green lawn of the Texas State Capitol was Fandango Tejas. A family of jaraneros and son jarocho musicians, poets, artists, and dancers armed in resistance with their art and culture.

Son Jarocho is a tradition from the coastal state of Veracruz, Mexico,  the melding of African, Spanish & Indigenous cultures during the process of colonization and the practice of slavery in the Americas.

The circle of music and rhythm at the capitol was powerful, a fire of political expression, a melding of lyric, and a warm authentic solidarity. Fandango Tejas was manifesting liberation. My companer@s were holding it down, occupying space, filling it with beauty, love, solidarity and community power.

A beautiful day to be rezisting and singing!

facebook.com/sonarmado or son.en.movimiento@groups.facebook.com>>

Today I dropped by the KPWR studios,  in a little room in a series of  warehouses sits the KPWR People WIll Radio Studios. KPWR is an urban community web based radio project based out of East Austin what my long time compa El Capitan calls  "occupied East Austin".  

It was great walking into the studio hip hop playing in the back seeing my friend El Capitan on the turn tables and on the mic. His show Radio Rasquacho has been on the air for over 6 years and serves as a space for community building, music, live performance, poetry, and political expression. Its been a long time hangout space and spot for companeros over the years every wednesday night.

KPWR is a non hierarchical all volunteer collective, member driven, created, and funded. Through hard work by its collective determination and collective organizing KPWR radio still exists! The radio project has existed without private donors or any type of funding making it community led and owned and operated. Not so many years ago I grabbed the mic and had a radio show...

KPWR exists to make radio/media accessible and Free, non corporate and truly  independent. It was inspiring  to see that  El Capitan as an artist, DJ, musician, radio personality, media maker, and provacatuer is still on the air diseminating knowledge, rythms, and energy to the masses.

Que Viva Radio Rasquacho y People Will Radio......

For more info go to www.kpwr.org

January 8, 2010

The Inhumane GA Cuts in Oakland

Full Board Hearing Tuesday,February 23rd @ 9 am
1221 Oak street, Oakland, CA
Please come and speak up for your brothers and sisters in struggle

PNN-TV posse: Camera: Muteado Silencio
Editor: Carina Lomeli

Stuart x/Oakland Poverty Reporter-PNN
Friday, January 8, 2010;

This is not my name. But i wont tell u my name. I suffer from the disease called shame. Shame fueled by racist, classist, capitalist values of "success" and achievement. I am currently on General Assistance in Oakland.Which means i am seen as a bum, a useless human and other stereotypes created to make people feel bad if they arent functioning as a non-stop cog in the constantly moving machine. This hate and distaste is at the core of why Oakland's GA recipients, people like me, are facing drastic, inhumane cuts.

I am an african descendent, Choctaw indian poet, born into this hell called Amerikkka. I worked for 22 years without missing one day at a machine shop, 9-12 hours a day. then one day i got sick. My sickness was messy, i might be disabled, i might just be a "to-up", broke-down machine no longer able to produce, to pay taxes, to pay rent, to "put out", but sickness and inability to work doesn't fit with a system that only supports you when you are able to produce.

As of January 2010 we, the poorest of the poor in Oakland, the disabled, the veterans, the domestic violence victims, the foster care youth transtioning out of institutionalization, will only recieve three months of General Assistance a year.

Get a job, i can hear the digital collective scream. To which i reply, i am one of the many of folks, who have tried to get employed in this economy. i am too old, most jobs tell me. I am also intermittantly sick, I am very discouraged.

These crumbs, known as "Budget cuts" are continuously threatened to be removed from us. From Schwarzenegger to Bush, from local to federal, we are never safe. And the more they take from our small little support, the more they seem to take from us.

So where does that leave us? the confused, the disengaged, the allegedly employable who are barely surviving in Oakland? Unsure, scared, desperate, hungry. Angry. Dead?

Join the coalition to Stop The GA Cuts at stop-the-ga-cuts@googlegroups.com. To learn how to become a community journalist like Stuart X, go on-line to www.racepovertymediajustice.org - or email deeandtiny@poormagazine.org to register for the upcoming session of PeopleSkool at POOR Magazine.

I went to the Lava Hot Springs Museum. There was a section of the museum that was done by a Native American about the history of Native peoples in this area. Check it Out!

The past two days have re-energizing for me before I head my way to Florida, and then after that Rachel and I will rejoin again in the east coast!

When I drove up on Tuesday, I decided to listen to the voice within me and go to places that I was told to go to. I listened to God and God took me to places that i was supposed to go and saw things and was told things, and saw 3 butterflies! I just listened inside and followed. God lead me to pick certain and be in certain places and when I got home there were three hawk feathers waiting for me on my doorstep and received different financial gifts inside my mail. YES! I LOVE MY LIFE AND THE REALITY I CREATE EVERYDAY!!! YES!!!

Today, I visited one of my favorite woman elders and told her about my journey and some of the visions I have had. She joked and I joked around and talked for hours. I learned much from her and gave her some of what I received yesterday. I wanted to meet up with this other elder but that will have to wait in two two weeks when I come back from florida. I will be spending the next two weeks with my sister in Florida and I am so excited! Her is to Family, and the ones we adopt as family... Love u Sissy!

The concept for the new Krip-Hop album is compiling about 8 tracks from some of today's most talented disabled, female, hip-hop artists.  This will be a collaborative effort between Leroy Moore (founder) and Kalyn Heffernan (Wheelchair Sports Camp) in which together we will find the best artists, select the best tracks, and release the collaboration to show the underrated talent of some of the most powerful disabled women in the game.  Krip-Hop's mission has always been to shed light on disabled hip-hop artists working their way through the restricted and controlled music industry, although this is the first time Krip-Hop has ventured into a female only disc.  We look forward to working together to provide another banger that we're proud of and hope to release it sometime Fall of 2011.

If you have a Hip-Hop song and want to submit it to this project, please email both of us at:

wheelchairsportscamp@gmail.com

kriphopproject@yahoo.com

Deadline is August 15th/ 20011

Kalyn & Leroy

I met Danielle Bear at the Healing the Spirit Round dance and we both looked at each other and I felt I was looking at a younger version of myself. That I was staring into myself as a little kid. I knew there was a interview there...

I then asked her mom if I could interview her about round dance. I knew nothing about this little girl not even her name but by the end of the night we definitely connected through the healing spirit of round dance songs and dancing. I think this was one of my best interviews of the night! Also one of her Uncles are in Northern Cree... I am just saying thats all!

Scroll down for English

Soy una mujer Guatemalteca, madre de 4 niños.

Pobre porque haci nasi. En mi tierra me sentia sola ahunque tenia a mis hijos y a mi madresita.

Pero siempre me hacia falta algo muy importante. Cuando me divorcie me quede sin hogar.

Yo me fui a la capital con el bebe. Aveces yo no comia por miedo de quedarme sin dinero! Y sin trabajo!

Yo lloraba todos los dias cuando salia a la calle con la ilusion de encontrar trabajo y nada. Pero cuando me quedaban solo 10 quetzales Dios me consedio un trabajo y me asepto una señora con mi hijo. por fin ya tenia un techo y un trabajo para mantener a mis hijitos.

Un dia hiso fiesta en su casa y yo cocine y mi bebe se fue con ella a la sala. Pero derrepente yo escuchaba unas grandes carcajadas de la gente, me dio duda y fui aver que pasaba. Me encontre con la sorpresa mas desagradable que era ver a mi hijo brracho como loquito y ver como se dibertian con el. Me dolio y me enoje tanto por que ellos le dieron cerbeza para que no los molestara y se durmiera yo me puse como loca pues el no tenia la culpa de no tener un hogar donde bibir y siendo tan indefenso y como era un bebe de tan solo un año de edad, el no sabia que le estaban dando en la mamila.

Lo abrase y le pedi perdon y regrese a la casa de mi mama. Me vine a los EEUU pensando vivir mejor y me encuentro con otra cosa igual o peor llebo un anno buscando un lugar donde vivir. Me disen: si tienes niño no te rentamos nada. Otros disen si pero tienes que pagar mas
No me haceptan, por eso yo pienso que linda fuera la vida si los pobres y las madres tubieramos un lugar donde refuguiarnos con nuestros hijos un lugar seguro donde podamos vivir en paz nesesitamos tierras y casas seguras.

Ingles Sigue

I am a Guatemalan woman, mother of of 4 kids.

Poor because that’s how I was born. In my land I felt alone even though I had my kids and my dear mother.

But I was always missing something very important. When I divorced I ended up houseless,

I went to the capital with my baby. Sometimes I wouldn’t eat for fear of running out of money! And no job!

I cried every day when, disillusioned, I went out looking for a job and found nothing. When I only had 10 more quetzales God answered my prayers and I found a job where I could be with my baby as well. Finally I had a roof over my head and a job to support my children.

One day a woman had a party at her house, and while I cooked my baby was in the living room with my boss. But when suddenly I heard some loud chuckles from everyone, I got filled with doubt and went to see what the fuss was all about. I was horrified and surprised to see my son drunk and acting crazy while they were being entertained. It hurt and I got so angry that they were giving my son beer so he would fall asleep and not bother them, I felt as though I went insane. It was not his fault I didn’t have a home—he was one year old and defenseless; he didn’t know what they were making him drink from his bottle.

I held him and asked him for forgiveness and returned home to my mom. Then I came to the USA thinking I would live better, but I find things here the same or worse. I spent a year looking for a home. They tell me if you have a kid they can’t rent you anything. Others say yes but you have to pay extra. That’s why I think it would be wonderful if poor folks and mothers would have a place to take refuge with our children. A safe place where we could live in peace, we need land and safe housing: Homefulness.

Before moving up to WA. State, sunday mornings meant either playing drums in church or going to the Ashby flea market in Berkeley,CA.Both of these gatherings had similarities, music ,food ,people,and a tremendous sense of community that pulls you in.On the Sunday we were to visit Nickelsville,a self sustained village of homeless folk,allowed by the city of Seattle to temporarily reside on the grounds of a church,I awoke at sunrise ,the faint glimpse of sunlight peeking through the blinds,welcoming my weary eyes to the day ahead.Something amazing must be happening today,I thought to myself,considering I had not woke up this early on a Sunday,on my own since moving from the Bay Area.

Rain slapped against the window,yet I was still enthusiastic about heading out to visit the people living in Nicklesville.As soon as we reached Seattle,the rain stopped and I was surprised too see that this village in a city was located inside of the U of W district.Moving out here a year ago it was not the warmest experience and that coldness always reflected off of my staust as being poor and non-white.As we approached the site,this stuck in my mind ,especially when the majority of the homeless population is made up of poor and non white folks.We got to the entrance and were asked to sign in at a small post at a small post that resembled an outdoor office.

The staff that greeted us were quick to let us know they were part of the collective and not social workers or homeless advocates with homes,who came to supervise.We made our way to the common living area,passing rows of neatly arranged tents,each set up on a wooden pallet,that seemed like they could withstand the the worst seasons Seattle has to offer.The common area doubled as kitchen and a eating space,with tables of stored food and utensils alongside a row of BBQ pits.Sitting amongst this was a young woman who smiled as she noticed us and said hello,perfect an opportunity to talk to someone.My teacher from CJW,Gioioa asked her if she was willing to do an interview with us.Yes,she replied ,introducing herself as Erin Miller. Unashamed with an energy that gave me a feeling that she was joyful despite the hard times she was going through,there was a place for her.She spoke of having the time to find her passion for filmmaking and working on a documentary about homelessness.

This took me back to 15 years ago when I was alone on the streets and found the comfort of creativity,and it’s salvation as I struggled to stay awake during the long dark hours of early morning inside the 24 hour doughnut shop.It was here I would sit filling page after page of notebook paper,so I could keep warm as I waited on sunrise.A maple old fashioned and a jelly ,a cup of hot coffee,enough to make me look like a customer and not someone seeking refuge from the cold Oakland November wind,even though that was exactly me.Yet the details of preparing over 60 dozen fresh sugar and flour treats probably kept the busy workers behind the counter unaware of their sleepover stowaway.I would eventually become a regular that winter,collecting pens and notebooks during the day and hanging out at the doughnut shop after midnight.This became my rite of passage into expressing myself with the written word and a lot of ideas I came up with in that period,I am still developing currently so it definitely shaped who I am as a artist.Erin Miller spoke of people having super powers and I knew firsthand what she was talking about.Trying to live with nothing much but the clothes on your back and maybe a bag on your back can bring out the best in you if you can connect with that emotion.

Everyday,millions of people in this country suffer from Amerikkka’s debilitating ling disease,homelessness,according to the National Alliance to End Homelessness.Almost half of that population have nowhere even to temporarly find shelter for one night.My experiences in CA and what we encountered at Nicklesville and elsewhere in Seattle WA recently,echo,that this vicious condition has not been realistically addressed as time goes forward and folks get colder living on the streets.How can a city as rich and affluent not have the resources to provide a living space for each homeless citizen,yet for the longest they have funded a mission with a promise to create decent affordable housing and end homelessness as the population of those without appropriate shelter grows and grows.The plans King County have set are slow and exclusive,only responding to a low amount of the impoverished community with services that target certain criteria that economically challenged folk simply can’t meet.The most immediate help King County can provide in an emergency situation to homeless or at risk homeless is a search website with links to resources as if every person living on the streets in Seattle has wi-fi built in their brains to browse the web all day.So the inhabitants of Nicklesville are luckier,than most,despite having to move at least 4 times in the last 2 years.

Upon returning to catch up with Erin Miller and see their new location,after the permit expired in Nov.2010 at the church parking lot,at the fire station in the Lake City we were invited into a hopeful gathering ,who were still waiting on a permanent location at an old peanut butter factory across town.The enviorment was bustling with activity,families sat out ,tables lined up in rows and bright light filled up the noisy hall.The smell of cooking rose from the center of the kitchen.Down a corridor a familiar face pops out of a small room,pushing a wheeled bucket and mop,stern faced,looking exhausted,it’s our old friend.Erin Miller has evolved further in her artistic pursuit,finishing her film,and on the eve of premeiring it on cable TV,she has just tackled her weekly chores,yet is confident as she speaks volumes,proudly of her upcoming debut,proving that with just enough space,shortcomings,could be squeezed into a flavorful blessing,of a lemonade to quench the thirst of lonely souls.

Today was my first orientation for the birth companion project and training I am participating in. My sisters with Mamas of Color Rising (MOCR) have been organizing tremendously around birthing access in Austin for poor women of color. Mamas of color rising  is a collective of working class and poor mothers of color based in the Austin, TX area.

Sankofa means in  the Akan language of Ghana, "go back and take" often used with the proverb "It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten." ^. This meaning is very close to my heart, because that is the reason why I have been drawn and called to birth support work. I believe it is time to go back and learn the indigenous practices of my ancestors and live as they did.

At the orientation we learned about the program, specifics, time commitments and parts of the bigger vision that the Mamas have.  I also learned more about the NEED for women of color support networks, the NEED for access for alternative birthing options, and the "Womb to Prison Pipeline".

What a fierce day reconnecting with my sisters, meeting new sisters, and participating in an intentional and revolutionary space and project.

There will be a women in hip hop showcase (featuring Invincible of Detroit and Krudas Cubensi just to name a few!)  and benefit for this project on Tuesday March 15, 2011 at austin's historic Victory Grill.....!

www.MamasofColorRising.Wordpress.com>

Shhhhhh listen with your heart
Brown Yellow, Red
voices of color
Rising us up from boxes
people put us in
Yes, I’m Black
feeling activist elders from all ethnic cultures

Combining communities
Through the arts
Black, Chicano, Asian, Native, Women Gay Arts Movements
From Manilatown to Motown
Homo-Hop to Krip-Hop

Koreatown, Chinatown to Chocolate City
Walking Down These Mean Streets
With Piri Tomas, Gil Scott Heron & Al Robles
Spoke political poetry
Real artists\activists

California Hotel residents learning from I Hotel legacy
Black elders strategizing with Asian elders
Robles left a foundation
Of self-reliance
planting seeds that left POOR with homefulness
collective ownership

Folk lyrics of justice by Chris Lijima
mixing with 2009 Hip-Hop by Blue Scholars
A Song For Ourselves
Burn Hollywood burn
as we write and film our stories

In post production for more than thirty years
No more ties to foundations that had ties to the economy of plantations
Untie the knots that keep our art and stories like
Manilatown Is In The Heart..
in endless production

Passing It On wrote Yuri Kochiyama
“Gave up dancing to become a revolutionary“ said Bill Sorro
When Will The Time Come? Sang Bambu
Rapping with Ten Thousand Carabaos in the Dark with Uncle Al Robles

Ted Nakamura, Trinh Minh-ha, Raeshem Nijhon
pointing their lenses on his/herstories for the big screen
Noemi Sohn, Mia Mingus mixing identity & politics of race, sex & disability
on paper in lecture halls and on protest lines
Grace Padaca serving her people and country in the Governor’s Mansion

Aiming to be the first disabled woman president of the Philippines

The smells of San Francisco
Black-eye Peas, Burritos, Lumpia MMMMMMMM
Forms a cloud of aroma around the Bay
Dissolving boundaries following your nose
Into different neighborhoods

Meeting the real policy makers cultural workers
Uncle Al's’ spirit will always be around Manilatown
Like the sounds of great jazz musicians
Echoing through the Fillmore at 2am
With Sakeone on the cheek cheek- turntables

Do you think I’m culturally 'voyeurism because I’m Black? Naw, it’s called giving respect
Remember Richard Aoki, a field marshal for The Black Panther Party
Not your average Asian, donated first defend weapons for police patrols to the BPP
Afro-Asian, Latino-Cuban, Puerto-Rican Tribes, Afro-Haitians
Jessie Jackson didn’t create the concept of the Rainbow coalition more like Fred Hampton

So I stand here in the oral tradition
Continue to learn from my elders
Beyond institutional walls
Paying respect to Al, Bill, Chris, Yuri ….
A rainbow of Revolutionary spirits in the sky going back home

Hey! Misaligned nation in a candy-coated thumbscrew
Who's gonna bring the REAL news to you?
Sometimes homeless humans, finding lucrative jobs
Significant employment, the system otherwise robs
Inspecting the issues, taking a stand
Providing needed insight, impact by demand
Making a difference, one paper at a time
For the reader AND the seller--just spare a dollar (not a dime)
 

Today back in El Paso,  I had lunch with my childhood friend Jackie who works at La Mujer Obrera (which translates The Woman Worker). La Mujer Obrera is a space/center/organization which holds a special place in my heart. It is a place where no matter what I always learn something new from the women who are there.
 
This time the building was quiet, Cemelli de Aztlan was in an office with her baby girl, so I stopped to say hello.  As  I started talking to Cemelli I learned many things, like how like me she decided to return to her homeland of El Paso to learn the indigenous practice of midwifery!

Cemelli shared her history with the work she is doing and how La Mujer Obrera has changed over its 29 years. Standing in the second poorest district in the country, the Chamizal District the organization started off as part of the labor rights movement with its members working in factories who were displaced after work moved to Mexico after NAFTA.

Cemelli also shared that as a teen in El Paso, there were not a lot of safe spaces for youth and she first came to Mujer as a teenager attending punk shows. Now Cemelli as a mother, organizes events for the Centro, like this years Mexica New Year event which she explains in the video.

It was great reconnecting with Cemelli and meeting Ameyalli (which means 'water that springs from the earth) today on our Indigenous Peoples Highway! A blessing to see how places just as people, grow and transform!

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Hurry Hurry Hurry!
Greatest Reality Show.
Your City And You On Display.
We're Here To Help You Wretched Folks.

Urban Sightseeing Remember the words “Deepest Darkest Africa” describing the sun loved inhabitants of the continent of Africa?

Or socalled Wild Aboriginal people’s of Australia.

Mighty Rome saw early Gaul’s (German’s), British,as Barbarian’s in ancient Rome.

Well its well over 2000 years and a similar though modernized notion is reviving this sickness all over again.

Like Hippies of the late 1960’s with busloads of tour guides to show the denizens of the counter culture.

Now there’s L. A. Gang Tours There Mission: show people on tourists walking how low income people live and how some of these tourist supposedly out of the goodness of the hearts and with money can safe these sad, degraded people.

I didn’t believe this crap still goes on at this late time but if one want to feel superior buy a ticket to Los Angeles, take cell phone camera, digital camera’s and click at the spectacle of everyday people living, surviving in West L.A. or The other Tenderloin.

Good intentions maybe however callous and calculating in its way of turning people troubles to a profit making venture for a non-profit group.

Let's see how the well healed, wealthy, gated, Mc Mansion living folk having their pristine neighborhoods made into a tourists attraction on the wild, watchful, slightly deviant, always absolutely fascinating, rarely seen rich in their private habitats.

Let gawk at the obscene wealth problem of too much money can do to so –called regular ordinary people.

Do you think they would want such attention on them day in, day out, for weeks, months, or years?

Seems to me this urban sight seeing can cut either way or a non profit org. can see how these rare individuals live their lives and how the burden of wealth changes them.

Armored care full of suited riot gear police in paramilitary fashion would be on hand to quell the non disturbance of bus loads of people and those on foot with all sorts of image taking devices snapping, clicking, away at stunned embarrassed populace.

I people cannot imagine the disrespectful; incursions on others people rights to be left alone in their own place and not to be treated as animals in display in a zoo.

Then maybe the rich and wealthy should be treated to the same indignity and invasion of their most precious right.

The right of poverty in there owns home and not seen as objects of pity.

Maybe this thing in L. A. won’t happen in January of 2010 because most of us are more sophisticated and know all neighborhoods, streets, areas, have their endangered people places.

Treating people in depressed, low income places like some new age safari fetish only shows low America’s standards have gone. Then again maybe we should do the non profit wealthy-sightseeing tour too and have enjoy the gawking looks of surprised faces as what was conceived as help- our poor brethren and sisters into 2010 is See The Wealthy in their gated community compounds, see how they live, and learn the ways of their Urban Jungle. Yes, that ought to be one trickle down theory I’d like to see.

Hotel Voices Update!
LIMITED SEATING
NO RESERVATIONS
When:2pm Sunday, January 17, 2010.
Where:Jefferson Hotel Speakeasy/Stage
440 Eddy Street,
San Francisco
(between Hyde & Leavenworth,
Tenderloin District)
TICKETS: $1-20
(No one turned away
for lack of funds)
Call 415-836306

Besides Japan's earthquake, tsunami, and on-going nuclear crisis, there is another problem.  Where do you store nuclear waste?  It takes 10,000 years for it to be safe enough to stand next to the stuff without losing your hair and/or your life. 

This is not disputed by any expert in the field.  There is a lot of talk about building more nuclear power reactors in this country.  The industry has had many problems with the security of the sites in general, at least the terrorism fear-mongers have been yammering at us about this for years. 

March 8, 2011 (three days before the earthquake and tsunami) the Nuclear Power industry sued the U.S. Dept of Energy to stop taxing it with a fee that raises $750 million a year for the Nuclear Waste Fund, managed by the U.S. Treasury.  There is $24 billion in the NWF right now, which is supposed to be used for the Yucca Mountain nuclear waste storage site, 100 miles from Las Vegas, or for any other that might be created (don't hold your breath, you might need to learn to like the color blue...).

The longest-lasting governments we've ever had were the Chinese dynasties running that empire, the Egyptian dynasties, and the Roman Empire (which split into two empires...), none of them going much more than 1,000 to 2,000 years. Iceland's "Thing", or Parliament, has lasted 1,000 years.  The average of more common empire-like power structures is a few centuries.

Ten thousand years is a lot longer than humans have been able to stay focused on running a government, or a religion.  The U.S. Government's code phrase for a lost nuclear weapon is Broken Arrow, and there have a been a few broken arrows that have never been recovered. 

This elder skolah has learned a few things here and there.  The Public Library is one of them, the internet is the other.  I get angry about stuff like this, especially when people challenge me on facts that are easy to prove.  You don't need a Ph.D in nuclear physics to figure this stuff out. 

There's only two types of nuclear power that have no waste.  One is real, one is theoretical.  The real one, which is still years away from being a reality, is fusion.  The theoretical one is anti-matter, which will take a lot longer because it takes so much energy to produce even tiny amounts of the stuff, although scientists recently discovered that thunderstorms make the stuff all the time.

San Francisco's Navy Yard, owned by the Lennar Corporation, is a case in point.  It is contaminated, and some of that contamination is nuclear--the result of sand-blasting Navy ships exposed to nuclear bomb tests near the Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean decades ago.  Lennar says they can clean the Navy Yard by putting a concrete cap over the contamination.  There have been five previous attempts to do this, what's one more among friends and neighbors made chronically ill because of this?

The Bayview-Hunter's Point area, where the Navy Yard is, has the highest amount of cancer, still-births, and similar problems, per capita, in this country.  This is a 5-square-miles chunk of the 49-square-miles of San Francisco.

Nuclear power generates nuclear waste, and what happens when you create something that dangerous?  The poor live near it, the people with money don't--they don't want to, and they don't have to. 

...will add audio later...

When I was fifteen I dreamed about being 21

Couldn't wait for that freedom

My own place would be so much fun

But when I left my gardenland of childhood bliss

You know I never thought I

Would have so much to miss...

Chorus:

Why didn't anybody tell me

All those things I needed to know

Why did they fill me

With meaningless innuendos

I coulda done so much better

If I'd've only known what I was doing

It only hurts us all

Who are they fooling?

When I left high school

I still had the better part of my dreams

Only three years later

I was falling apart at the seams

Well, did I know the year

--they wanna know

Did I know who was President

(like it really mattered)

Did I know who I was--ha!

I hardly knew how to pay the rent---

Chorus...Bridge...

Oh, I was

Too smart to die

I was too dumb to see

That if I had a baby

The government would take them

Away from me

They said I didn't know how to handle

Re--spon--si--bil--it--y

I'm just a bit too unorthodox--

--in the end, they took all three------

from me...             (scream)

So, for those of you who're

Out   there   now

With young minds and young dreams

Don't get hooked on the future

Because it might not be as great as it seems

Thursday, December 31, 2009;

Last Column of '09.
Creating less stress for me.
May all of us reap the...
good fortunes of a peaceful mind.

No New Years Resolutions!

Why the above?

Because like many of us starting new year's after a drink or two I say what and mean what I definitely will do in the coming months of said new year, and what happens?

Somehow, somewhere, invariably I mess it up and feel I’ve betrayed myself terribly.

No more of that awful feeling wretchedness. From now on its; Do-Be better without any resolutions.

Recently with a good friend a financial bet was made I want to stick too that.

It will take will power and prayer to succeed.

My reward is privately mind to have said and by actions abide by my word which is reward enough for me.

Everyone who’ve ever messed up their resolve over the years just keep faith in yourself to stand by your actions.

To all of us, may we all empower ourselves to do and be the best we can for all the years and decades to come.

Everyone have a grand, safe, sensuously-sexy, blessed New Year;)

I've been reading on-line news reports about the post-earthquake/tsunami nuclear crisis in Japan, and the reaction from the Obama Administration is, well, interesting to say the least.  The Japanese government says stay 12 miles from the worst-affected nuclear power plant.  The U.S. government says 50 miles, preferably more. 

When the news shifted to reporting about active evacuation of U.S. citizens from Japan, White House spokesbeing  Jay Carney said, "I will not from here judge the Japanese evaluation of the data.  This is what we would do if this incident were happening in the United States."  Oh really?

This reminds me of the reaction to the disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, when British Petroleum (BP) and the U.S. government insisted nothing too tremendously bad was afoot, but both were forced to eat their words times after time until forced to tell us--well, um, oops, it's really really bad!  Even then BP tried to downplay the amount of oil gushing into the gulf by shifting from talking about GALLONS of oil to BARRELS of oil.

I believe we are also being encouraged to think that any amount of radiation that hitches a gulf stream, or Pineapple Express storm-track ride, to the West Coast (which means POOR Magazine and a bunch of our neighbors...) and beyond ain't about nuthin' because we ALWAYS get bad stuff like particles of lead and what-not from Asia in our weather diet. 

You getting that warm fuzzy feeling I'm feeling?  Yeah.  Please, don't forget what the experts did the last time something ginormous happened!  I haven't.
 

On one rainy night Jan. 2011, my eyes was wide open like pan fried eggs. My pupils burned like hot sauce and fogged up like steamy shower doors. Apartment tenants slammed doors all night long to early morning hours when the birds started to sing. Loud voices of party prowlers penetrated the paper thin walls. Thump! Thump! Thump! the sound of heavy feet running over head shook me out of what little three minute sleep I manage to steal. SCREAM! How did a once nice peaceful studio apartment turn to a horrilble hub of hell? I FEEL THE FIRE OF THE SLUM LORD MILLIONAIRE SPELL!!!        

Wikipedia's definition of slumlord:

"A slumlord (also spelled slum lord) is a derogatory term for landlords, generally absentee landlords, who attempt to maximize profit by minimizing spending on property maintenance, often in deteriorating neighborhoods. They may need to charge lower than market rent to tenants. Severe housing shortages allow slumlords to charge higher rents.    " Wikipedia definition for millionaire: "A millionaire (originally and sometimes still millionnaire^[1]) is an individual whose net worth or wealth is equal to or exceeds one million units of currency. It can also be a person who owns one million units of currency in a bank account or savings account. Depending on the currency, a certain level of prestige is associated with being a millionaire, which makes that amount of wealth a goal for some, and almost unattainable for others."

Mis management and slum lord practice goes together like freezing temperatures and icicles. The slum lord only care about collecting the rent money.The tenants safety, security and privacy are put in the hands of an unqualified, arrogant, and dishonest apartment managers. The slum lord hires the jerks to save money. It will cost him more to hire a real qualified manager with a good record.One dreary day I fell to sleep while I was watching television,I was woke up by a snooping female apartment manager who had the master key to all of the apartments, I was woke up to the noise of her opening my door. She didn't knock on my door at all. When I asked her what was she doing she just said, " sorry "! Then like a psycho, she slammed the door hard.  That was scary as a Stephen King stalker. I was as happy as the three stoogies when she quit and ran off to cow girl heaven.

The happiness didn't last too long, her left behind boyfriend from hell became the new manager.. His management skills stank like dead skunk breathe. Constantly the toilet, shower,washer,or dryers stayed broken down so much it became a habit ,expect bad news anytime.Party purgers threw up on the bathroom wall and floor,it took hours before the jaintor came to clean it up. Janitors was hard to keep on the job . They blew away like dust in a storm, maybe the bad -mouth graffitti on the walls scared them off in the sunset. I knew that one day things would get out of control like a loin in New York steak house.

Many times I came home from work and noticed that my apartment had been searched. I knew I wasn't the only one when an african american tenant yeled at the manager about his room being violated. Later many other tenats spoke of their apartments being searched while they was out working.    When I reseaarched the law about the landlord entering your apartment it stated:
"He is supposed to notify you 24 hours in advance if he needs to enter your home for any business connected to the renovation/repair of his property. If he does not notify you, you need to notify him IN WRITING that he is violating the privacy laws and that you can and will take him to court to prevent his "snooping" in your personal/private affairs. I would be certain, however, that he is indeed the one who is responsible for releasing personal information without your consent."

3AM one morning, I was woken up by some one click-click-clicking my lock to my apartment door. I sat up and yell, " You got the wrong door! " The click-click-clicking got more insane. I yell, "You got the wrong door!" The click-click-clicking went into overdrive. finally my patience RAN OUT LIKE COLD BEER at a frat house party. I snatched the door open, there stood a 6'4" frankenstien home invader who push my door open, babbling " this my roooor ooom. "I snapped into survivor mode and slamed the door. Some how he stuck his head in the door jamb . I increased my strenght and his head was crushed vice-like. His eyes gut big and then he dashed off down the creepy hallway. I told the manager abouy the incedent : he ignored me, He never tighten up srecurity for the tenants safety.

Racial tensuon grew and tenants didn't respect their neighbors safety, security, or privacy.   On the internet, Criminal Justice Tntervention stated:  "  Harassment is a crime. If proven, depending on the severity and frequency of the conduct and the harasser's prior criminal record, harassment can be punishable as either a gross misdemeanor or a felony. Harassment can mean many things. It can refer to the actions of a person (or group) who is repeatedly sending you threatening letters, calling you on the phone, or repeatedly sending you unwanted gifts. It can also involve behavior such as following you, watching you, and coming to your place of work or home. This behavior is commonly referred to as "stalking". Harassment can also include intentionally exposing you to materials which the harasser knows, or has reason to know, are culturally offensive or intimidating to you."

The land lord becomeds a millinaire while the tenants dignity and morals fades and dissapears.

The srange thing is that I found more safety and security while living in a shelter. I get enough sleep at night and get to work on time.

And I save my money so I can find a better place to live in the future.  Here are some helpful links to click for more information.http://bit.ly/geboSF