Moved Again
Mood:  a-ok

Please follow me to my new site:  www.womanofevil.weebly.com

Thank you kindly,

Still Mz Au after all these years. 

Still annoyed.
Mood:  on fire
Topic: Dear Diary
The pop ups are fucking annoying, don't you think? Why would I pay to upgrade my site to remove the pop ups and flashy adversizing when I'd rather invest in my creativity and worldly experience by choosing to apply my wares to a higher quality "server" with a more evolved audience? Any of you looking for something sincerely professional where you have complete control and spectacular tools for a sincerly "encouraging" price (yes, the lowest priced plan is about $10 a month, slightly more for business plans, I pay $20 per month for my bandwidth and future goals with my website) for starving artists like myself. Please check out Woman of Evil -- Meliora Volens and enjoy my upgraded self-publishing tools and inspired creativity. :)
And I suggest stopping by HouseCall Utterly Clean/Free Scans *and* complete removal from TrendMicro and the PCcillin people and taking advantage of their services, regardless your level of protection now, after leaving Angelfire on your way anywhere else.

Abandoning Angelfire
Mood:  irritated
Angelfire has deleted my index page yet again so I've decided to recreate my new blog elsewhere as soon as humanly possible; I've outgrown this site.
The controvercial images are posted in My Contrary Domain, although it could have been my description of the events which caused the bruising you see on my body or my agreeable opinion of someone else's fictionalized observations that illicits such censorship in what I expected was an appropriate venue for my thoughts.

New Tools, New "Mission"
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Words of Wisdom
Just after saving my last post and closing the internet down then shutting off my computer like I'm supposed to; that was the last time my Compaq decided to recognize my hard drive and it hasn't booted past the BIOS since.
Whatever else you might think of me and the things I've shared with you the past two years here; I am still clear in my purpose and this blog is my last link to this dead world. If you are intended or inclined to follow me you already know exactly where to find me; otherwise you will be led to exactly the right person or opportunity God intends for you to have instead.
I'm called to serve in my Beloved's household and I won't get into all the reasons how I know this because that's for my new blog.
What you need to know is that absolutely zero things inside or outside of the Universe is Evil. Up until the very instant the "Seals" were opened by God and All Truth was revealed to Humanity, there were only two "things" in existence; God and Universe He created from Himself. That was all there is and because the Universe is made from God nothing, not one atom of the physical realm, not one vibration of the spiritual realm, nothing in any other realms of the Universe could possibly be anything but something from God, therefore neither God nor the Universe can be Evil. Evil is the absence of God; and Humanity is the tool God *will* use to prevent everything that exists from becoming three things, God, the Universe, and a terrible Nothing which will exist everywhere outside of God and the Universe, except God created Laws so that the Universe could exist and these Laws will create a flow from God and the Universe to the exact opposite, so that Nothing would exist where God and the Universe is and still, because it's a Law, nothing can exist without God and the Universe; so God and everything He created not only ceases to exist, He never existed at all because He's the one who invented Time for us, just so we could use our Souls and our Beings to preserve the knowledge of God in the Universe right now when we promised we would.
Had people like Princess Diana and Dr. Daniel Jordan not been murdered to prevent them from fulfilling their destinies; people like me wouldn't have been called out of hiding to do the job instead. They would have paved the way for the nations and governments to unite under the Universal House of Justice and children and criminals would be treated very differently so that by the year 2000 or not much farther beyond very few people in the world sincerely wanted for their basic human necessities. No one is evil for choosing the arch-angel Lucifer or Satan or themselves or the Moon or anyone else to worship like God; it promotes the belief there is a God even if one decides to rebel and disobey God's Commandments. Remember Evil is the absence of God and nothing in the Universe or outside of the Universe is (yet) Evil, not even Lucifer who allegedly had a doubt in his ablity to guide mankind as God asked and now understands better than anything else God has ever or will ever create that there is indeed a God whose power is omnipotent...as long as there is no Evil in the world. "World" meaning everything that exists, both God and the Universe.
I'm ending this blog (even if I might check in from time to time) and yes, it's a test for us both to know whether I am actually *your* Bitch Mother of the Universe. I am fulfilling prophesies, I can feel it in the flow of things around me and the fragances in the air; time to call your children home and I'm not waiting for you another moment longer.
Wet dreams, safe harbors; act on your best instincts and love the planet Earth anyway if you don't believe in God.

You're Responsible
Mood:  sharp
Topic: Words of Wisdom
Whoever came up with the idea of “Tough Love” should be shot at sunrise; or just left fry all tied up and powerless to defend himself against the elements. What a horrible, abusive thing to do to children who are not responsible or logical beings because they are physically and emotionally undeveloped and won’t be mature enough to handle adult responsibilities for the first fifteen years of life minimum; and that’s if someone shows them the right way the first time. “Tough Love” is like taking a child and throwing them in a shark tank because he pestered you one too many times to pay for swimming lessons. You’re a greedy son of a bitch if you’re willing to close the doors and windows on your child because you can’t take time off work to solve a family emergency like your teenager telling you in the only way s/he knows how that things aren’t working well and need to be resolved before someone is actually hurt. Grow yourselves up and look at the bigger picture. Quit blaming society and predators and drugs and your own children’s rebellious, annoying behavior and whatever issues you think you still have with your parents and anything else you’re doing that prevents you from pulling your head out of your ass and doing the right thing by your children and your neighbor’s children.
I heard a brief statistic recently somewhere, the internet most likely, that more predators have been caught and prosecuted due to programs like Block Watch and Amber Alert than in any time in the past; and I noticed that nothing was mentioned about the astounding increase in reports of crimes against children, which could be due to increased awareness of child abuse information in the general population, yet I wonder what percentage is due to seeing people who couldn’t afford the tools of their trade or otherwise accomplish their goals in the past are now, for the past few decades, able to walk down any city street and find an abundance of prey who are already lost and mourned and believed dead. Then, should your children happen to find their ways home and knock on the only door in the entire Universe which should be unlocked to them regardless the choices they made or the horror they’ve survived, which a homeless Good Samaritan would treat a cur hound better than this vulnerable, precious human soul has been treated, and you raise the standards even more impossibly high because **you’re** afraid you can’t trust your child to stay and attempt to reach those important goals a little differently since key parts of the past plans didn’t have the results you wanted. Yes, everyone is all emotional and confused; the point is that you’re the rational adult in all these situations and if you have a little patience and expect to alter your plans (rather than your goals) you would have more rational adults desiring to hang around and contribute to the family later in your life when you’re tired and ready to lay down and die. Do you think you’re leaving only your material possessions when you die?
Good, in reality that’s all we leave because our children will die and theirs will die and someday their children will die by some means too and if the physical world is all you’re willing to accept in your “reality” then you can die knowing you were absolutely correct to leave everything to the state or some worthy charity because you didn’t want your ungrateful brats to make any good use of it, since you sincerely won’t need any material possessions for the rest of Eternity. Ever practice leaving a place even a little better than you entered anymore; do you even pick up after yourself, or do you let the 13 year old hired help “assist” you? Is she sleeping in your lost teenager’s “old” bedroom or a room behind the garage or the “finished” basement perhaps?
Meanwhile, I’ll just welcome your lost children and tell them the truth when they ask and more importantly I’ll take them a little further out of the predator’s reach, even though they’re completely capable of handling most monsters on their own after only a few short months on the streets; the Tough Love technique does work, they swim with the sharks or die, don’t they? I’ll accept your children for who they are (or who they aspire to become) because these young people are going to solve the challenges of all our corrupt societies and I figure if I’m going to Hell and have to kiss ass to Evil for the rest of Eternity because of what society **believes** I would have done had I lived a “normal” childhood and possessed a willing bone in my body; then I might as well start now because Evil owns these children and I know how to set them free… well, at least long enough for them to have a real choice in the matter; and you have to admit Evil has the better physical and material benefits toward human kind…if you’ve nothing left to lose but your dignity and even your own parents won’t give you an ounce of respect or freedom to consent.
Exactly how distant are we, you and I? Do we live in such different worlds that I look like any typical inner city, welfare mom to you? In a general way, you’re correct, I’m human and receive “public assistance” and just looking at me and my narrow little apartment and my “wild” teenaged daughter who handled her terror of being abandoned at 14 years old because her mother was taken away by people thinking she’d be better in institutional or foster care rather than mine by getting her tongue pierced within a very few weeks of my return and my ex-felony convict son who can’t travel out of his state for another couple years and yes, you could say I was a typical or ordinary welfare mother.
So, consider this; I don’t really live on the fringes of society, those who do live on the fringes of society have a little more influence and control in their lives and tend to work within the system, within the structure of their society, therefore function well on the “fringes.” I live deep in the heart of Hell because I’m a slave to the system and even if I wanted to for one more day, I am incapable, by my very nature and lifetime experiences, of functioning on the fringes or any other place in a mainstream society; and if I’m “typical” then you have millions upon millions of us on your hands and Hell is a lot bigger than you imagine. Forget about people like me who will distract the sharks and preserve your precious seed as best as humanly possible with all the blood in the water, get over yourselves and call your children home; it’s just that simple. You don’t think it will be easy to defeat Evil do you? Excellent, you will need to sharpen your bargaining skills too, it’s not good enough that you were born with a soul which has learned how to pray really hard after fucking off till the very last breath; time to call your children home and do things the way God told you to do them, even if it hurts your pride a lot and brings tears to your eyes and you don’t want to because no one else does things that way and you might feel all alone in the world or even persecuted for your higher standards.
I’m simply disgusted with the hypocrites in the world; I don’t even feel like wishing you wet dreams and safe harbors tonight…I believe everyone is getting what they deserve and who am I to come between others and their consequences when they insist it’s between them and their God(s) and Evil has nothing to do with it? Nope, y’all rest easy and call your children home; there’s nothing more God can do for you than He’s already providing and I’m just a poor, welfare mother raging into thin air. I hope more return than I suspect will answer your calls; they’re just about to wash their hands of you too. Maybe if you wrote a will and left them your retirement pocket watch they’ll respect your sacrifice to them and the good of the family all those years, you think? Yeah, “Tough Love” is a bitch in the long run, too; because it doesn’t work except to break families into damaged virtually helpless individuals and gives the ultimate control to city, state and federal agencies; and that’s just plain Evil in my book. And quit pointing your finger at me and calling me a “covenant breaker” behind my back; it’s false and rude and makes you into hypocrites of the worst sort since not one of you have yet to investigate any myths or rumors or facts or anything at all with me or my children… at least poor, Pagan women of the past were interrogated and tried for their imagined crimes against God and society before being publicly persecuted and tortured to death. Come on now, time to put your money where your mouth is and do what you know is right; start with your children.

I can enjoy my misery too
Mood:  mischievious
Topic: Words of Wisdom
Well, of course, I **would** rant my fingers off about injustice and the latest bullshit in the world; but I just don’t think its having the effect I hoped it would have on your actions and inactions. I’ve sat here for months reporting the “news” from the Yahoo Alerts which catch my eye and the couple times a month I go to my girlfriend’s house and watch her television intending to inspire even one reader to investigate a little more deeply; and it’s nothing but a big waste of my time and energy. I think someone has come to the conclusion that I’m safer all wrapped up in myself and bitching about everything; and that might have worked some years longer if I were the dangerous one and my dead friends thought I needed to remain distracted to protect you. However, I’m doing everything asked of me to the best of my abilities and while I can tell that I’m not completely aligned to the finer details of God’s Divine Plan (being racist against Mexicans is not looking too good on my record, for example); I am still a useful tool, and the more aware and focused I am the sharper and more useful I become.
I was going to name names and rant about how dangerous virtually everyone else is in reality compared to poor, little old me; but I believe I was created by God to thwart some people’s plans and that can be construed as dangerous. Looking at me from another direction than from the inside looking out, from your perspective, perhaps; I am the Bitch Mother of the Universe and you actually do have reason to feel concerned. I can see how it might be challenging to know what to do about me, however this isn’t an “all or nothing” agreement between us; you cannot afford to ignore or influence me, so you continue observing and theorizing and distracting me with your hot, anxious breaths down my neck instead.
The truth is that **you’re** the one judging whether what I do or don’t do affects your plans or your emotions or your understanding of things in **your** environment. And worse, you base these judgments and decisions and pursue your endeavors on the mere sight of me and my brutally honest life. How do you know I’m speaking in a threatening tone without confronting me and seeing the flash of emotions in my face? To be perfectly honest; I sound a lot like whining when I rant, and I would have readily admitted it had you asked me directly.
Do you know why I promote the Bahai Faith every time the topic arises although I make it clear that I adamantly refuse to join and practice an organized religion myself? What might be my motivation to see the majority of the world practice the beliefs of the Bahai Faith knowing my negative experiences with my Bahai parents and a significant number of Bahais I’ve met throughout my lifetime thus far? If I thought I were the “Promised One” foretold in the Bahai Writings for this Day why do I insist on **everyone** referring to Shoghi Effendi’s translations of Abdul’-Baha’s and especially Baha’u’llah’s own Words for the complete and utterly accurate answers? If I know what’s wrong and how to fix it (as I believe I do), what prevents me from declaring myself something above the station of “Bitch Mother of the Universe” and starting my own religion with me as the godhead? Why don’t I just sit here and tell you all about it some more? You’re the most apathetic people I’ve ever met in my life; what makes you think I’m doing any thing at all in your behalf? If I don’t even know if you actually exist, wouldn’t you like to know what I am focusing my attention and energy on in reality?
Happy September Eleventh; with all those martyred souls knowing you mourn their loss, they linger and seek to comfort you as best they may in their confusion and grief and fear and utter lack of influence in the spiritual realm… you wield the power to vanquish Evil entirely (not in one fell swoop, but eventually Evil could possibly be at your absolute command). I’ll pray someone pays off the electric company so the government or another minion of Evil can’t shut the power off before you figure out your ghost detecting equipment or whatever your plan is supposed to be now that I’ve revealed my information; I’m on the Mother Earth’s side, remember? What is it you see through your apathy that keeps you so enraptured that you believe you are succeeding in your goals and living up to the rare higher standards you can still muster strength once in a while to pursue? Enjoy your warmongering and bloody intolerant lifestyles while they last; I’ve looked Evil in the face and know exactly the consequences I will suffer for my pride and downright offensive attitude when I die next time and the literally billions of “alternative” folks in the world just like me have **already** inherited the Earth and since we are the majority and have demonstrated the will and tenacity to thrive under even the severest of conditions with the hope that we might escape and live even one day of true freedom before all life as we know it is destroyed forever, our souls are far more useful living in healthy, self-interested bodies for a good hundred years or so than dead and living in the non-physical realms permanently detached from the only reality humans **alone** were created by God to comprehend and master. Imagine the power Evil has in “mastering” only one of you. Would you believe me if I told you what was wrong with the world and how to fix it right now? No, I doubt it; someone would have knocked on my door and offered to take my words with a grain of salt or something by now if you weren’t enjoying your apathy and strife so much. I’ve made my choice, too.

Detached or unsympathetic?
Mood:  sharp
Topic: Words of Wisdom
It’s really none of my business, however, I just wondered what kind of corrupt deal the Mexican government made with Alaska Airlines to increase flights and destinations and reduce fares between S. America and primarily the Pacific Northwest? Oh, Alaska Airlines made the announcement a couple months ago and I thought it was a very bad idea then; but it’s none of my business and I decided I’m racist against the Mexican people already living in my neighborhood and don’t have an objective perspective in this case.
Although, I guess I know what (former? I heard there were elections?) Mexican President Fox was doing visiting his citizens in WA and talking about “migration” late spring this year. Maybe one of you could look up the statistics with the census bureau and the Department of Social and Health Services and places and tell me how many S. American women and teen aged girls apply for public services in Washington State. Okay, that’s not fair, there’s too many of them born here in unfortunate circumstances as legal citizens, how about just count the pregnant or drug addicted ones that show up in emergency rooms, no identification or a soul in the world knowing where they live or how they got there, in need of immediate medical attention or they (or their soon to be American citizen babies), will die?
As you may have noticed, I’m in a resentful and perhaps even threatened frame of mind today. I don’t feel the need to go into all the details you can find in under ten minutes at the Welfare Rights Organizing Coalition’s website and many places; suffice to say that I feel resentful that I qualify for a great deal less than people from other countries, all other countries, just because I was born here and should have made the best of my American public education and birthrights like everyone else must. So, what am I going to do about it? Absolutely nothing; I have everything I need, with a little sacrifice and generosity, and I make do with what I have for as long as humanly possible. There is zero reason to begrudge my neighbors’ good fortunes; we are all, each and every one of us with limited opportunities and desperate morals, are the lowest caste in the universe. We will be joined by the middle classes, pretty much all of them, before the turn of the decade; and that’s if Evil sadistically twists the knife and enslaves them slowly.
Bush’s speech on his new emigration policies earlier this year mentioned the criminals who’ve illegally come across the border can stay here, but are the lowest priority and don’t qualify for citizenship for years longer. So, I guess that means these people can stay here and educate their dual citizen children in our public schools with two free meals a day and state administered scholastic exams in a generous variety of languages (to accommodate children who don’t want to learn American Standard English, I suppose), and then send every US penny their women and girls earn from scrubbing rich people’s toilets (and unspeakably worse) to their mafia controlled family back home… so someone’s sister or mother can fill her guts with drugs and fly an airplane instead; God help you if you’re a S. American teen aged boy.
I could be racist. It’s pretty hard to deny I seem to have some resentful attitudes toward some people who claim to be forced to live under these terrible conditions not fifty feet away from my home. I resent needing to be aware of the color and style of my clothing to make sure I live long enough to spend my $57 in Food Stamps on stuff my daughter likes to eat and drag it home on an old, folding luggage “cart” the four blocks home before its stolen from me too. I really can tell the difference between people and their origins and I feel threatened every moment of the night and day from specifically the Mexican people living across the street and down that block from me. Not the S. American people who’ve taken over the apartment complex on the other side of me during the three years I’ve lived here; they seem to be living average, upper lower class or lower middle class (if there’s a difference anymore) mainstream lives. Not the Somali people or the “Russian” people or the several varieties of Asian people who live along the way; only the Mexican folks. Yeah, it sucks that all these other people are doing what they do and have corrupt governments and their own mafias and everything the Mexican people have and I continue to mistrust every Mexican man, woman and child specifically; life’s a bitch for all of us.
I’m surprised people don’t feel offended Alaska Airlines has stepped into this “new” market, it doesn’t seem to have the most well maintained craft in the business judging by how many of their planes are delayed and grounded every month with engine and other serious mechanical problems; but I guess it’s good enough for folks willing to travel 3000 miles in the wheel well of a truck or something horrible. And never mind that our country is still at war with very clever and determined people all over the planet who wouldn’t mind a one way ticket to Seattle via sunny Mexico; want a box of Cuban cigars too?
I believe everyone who has lived here for longer than a year and still doesn’t speak more English than can get themselves into a bar fight, or any one at all who has been convicted of a crime or a fraud, need to be sent home to their nation of origin. If they are not citizens, their children are not citizens either and they all need to go home and solve the challenges of their environment or economy or whatever it is that they rush with nothing but the clothes on their backs to escape.
Humanity’s existence depends on “kinds” and “peoples” and “nations” preserving their cultures and using their unique talents and discoveries toward promoting the health and welfare of the Earth. Every species and kind of creature has the instinct and desire to thrive, and it’s a nice bonus that virtually all of them benefit human kind in some way, but they were not put on this planet to serve mankind, we were all created for this exact moment and place to serve the planet Earth and prevent those rare breeds who were created by God “the Destroyer” from making some very grave errors against His Beloved Children.
Many years ago as a young child, I remember watching a Wild Kingdom television show where I watched a large feline, a jaguar or leopard perhaps, stalk and kill a very young deer, only days old. People don’t believe me, but I remember thinking the baby deer was eaten because it cried too much for its mother instead of standing and letting instinct lead it by the nipple to some place safer.
How many **billions** of creatures on our planet, even just within the confines of their own hearts, cry out into the Universe for mercy from God because they fear the worst is at hand? Do you think all that noise is falling on deaf ears? Think about it, people, wake up; stop screaming in your nightmares and defend yourself and your family from the rapist murderer in your house. God hears you and has repeatedly answered you and if you don’t stop what you’re doing, all the screaming and blowing shit up especially, you will attract more consequences than any of us are capable of handling and we will all wish you had killed us off sooner.
I know I seem contradictory; I tell you I think Mexican and S. American people should go home and solve their challenges and the next breath that we need to stand up and take life by the tit and move ourselves out of danger. What I mean is that we, as kinds of people, as people with endless varieties of subcultures within an individual, self-sufficient society, we have at least one essential piece of the whole Truth which actually gives us very little choice but to assemble ourselves according to God’s Divine Plan and function or assemble ourselves incorrectly and fail miserably wondering why for the rest of Eternity with Evil as a bedfellow. Personally, I found Evil to be an imaginative and unexpectedly attentive lover, so I can understand how people might be fooled into thinking they’re worshiping God in All His Glory and following His instructions correctly; but I was commandeered by God to deliver “first alert” to Evil that the Day had come for the Aware and Blessed of Humanity to leave the Earth and discover unimagined splendor in God’s celestial realms. What’s everyone else’s excuse for submitting to Evil’s will when push came to shove; you resented being left behind to clean up the shit? But you aren’t cleaning up the shit; and you’re treating others like slaves and maybe paying them like shit if you pay them at all for scrubbing your toilets and tending your spoiled children and washing your crabby parents’ dying asses too. How can you think you’re submitting to the will of God when you’re so seduced by Evil you think predators will eventually evolve into something else entirely in another millennium or two and quit preying on us of their own accord.
Well, no, that’s not how God created predators and prey and if you don’t want to be one of the ones caught standing unawares when the “cosmic vultures” arrive to properly recycle the Earth’s remains you might think of packing your bags now, booking reasonable passage to your sacred burial ground, and telling your children tall tales and boastful lies the rest of your dark days. I really don’t feel you’re up to the task of being much more aware than that since it’s obvious you disagree with every single one of God’s Messengers and will disobey His teachings and commandments regardless the price **I** am willing to pay to protect the Earth and Her children, or the consequences **I alone** will suffer for my briefly permitted tryst with Evil. And I hope I’m offensive and racist to you today; maybe you’ll wonder what’s my bitch about and step a fraction out of your own pitiful shit high enough to clear some of the stench out of your noses and maybe see a little green grass and clear skies before I hand you your own shovels and you get to dig your own graves just like everyone else. Wet dreams, safe harbors still, and someone put another Safeguard on that “little green button,” please, we sincerely can’t afford another direct, or even indirect hit for that matter, at all; not at all. If you know what I’m talking about; just do it and ask questions of your superiors afterward. Any geeks still keeping up with my rinky-dink blog; aren’t your reports due about now? Hmmm, still quiet, I must be imagining above my station again; guess I’m just sending my thoughts into the collective consciousness and watching for the next signs from God as usual. Oh yeah, I know what my point was now, I almost forgot; call your children home.

A couple of photos for you, too.
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Dear Diary

Above: Charles Conrad, 2002, taken in IL. Below: Taken about 16AUG06 with the free vacation timeshare promotional digital camera she "borrowed" from me before I opened the box, this home is somewhere near Squamish, BC, and is another beautiful example of my daughter's creative eye. I call this one "Canadian Glen" and wish peace and prosperity forever to whomever resides there.

Quit what you're doing, right now and listen to me then.
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: random media player downloads from my collection
Topic: Words of Wisdom
So, what do you feel about me, now that you’ve made your mind up? I’m close, but misguided and damaged? I’ve got a lot of farfetched ideas and you can’t possibly take me seriously? What, do you think of me, now? Not that I actually care very much because life rolls along like thunder; I just wonder.
The last thing you hear from me is that my son is finally released from prison (after 3.9 years, I’m corrected; I’ve included the time he ran Spirit Run and except for when I saw him for a few hours a year later, that’s the last I’ve held him in my arms), and what? You think I’m going to tweak out and get myself thrown into the hospital without my consent or something over it? You’re out of your minds. I feel overjoyed and resentful and enraged and grateful to God from every atom of my soul; how do you think I feel?
When I felt overjoyed, I cranked the music and danced in my house; and while my daughter was on her 12 days leadership training with Passages Northwest (she returned on my sister’s birthday with more great photos from BC, this time), I danced nude. When I felt resentful I journalized, and when I felt enraged I swept every closet and corner from upstairs and down and outside too into a big pile and yelled at the cats (who think any pile of dirt and crap is a good place to shit even though their litter box was done first and already out) and yelled at dead people (and one or two I wished dead out of selfishness just to make my job easier) and went out to check the mail and cheerfully met my neighbor letting him know I’m just cleaning and tossed more shit around till I ran out of steam and my house was back under my control…except the kitchen; I need to hire a demolition crew for that.
What do you want from me? I’m human, and as detached as I feel about the overall general view of my past and current world events and most things around me, I’m still utterly human; I’m not even endowed with super human powers as I hoped might happen from my brush with the Bab and other influential dead people, but nope, I’m still me only with a new set of identical tools to replace the ones which were snatched out of my grasp at birth or deliberately broken to uselessness since. I thought that meant I was no longer Profoundly Dyslexic, but I can accurately report that any improvement in my writing or reading comprehension is due to the extra practice I’ve clocked in for Shoghi and imparting the “Great Message” to you and other people who don’t bother to acknowledge it’s been received, if even unhappily so. I write pages every day, and most of it isn’t fit for public consumption.
In fact, I hardly share “personal” information with my closest loved ones either; the rare few I’ve recently become acquainted who understand the task at hand get their information from their own reliable sources and everyone else relies on me to warn them of the shifts in the wind or offer suggestions for how they might proceed through the increasing and ugly chaos.
Obviously, I’m not interested in divulging very much, if anything at all, about my thoughts and feelings to any kind of “public servant” or “professional;” I’ll utterly surprise myself if I call 911 for any reason ever again in my life, much less the Crisis Line or the church down the street or anyone at all, if you must know. I rely on myself and my relationship with the Universe because in “reality” that’s all there is; what I am able to perceive beyond my own skin, which is a tricky thing to figure out when you no longer enjoy benefit of flesh and bones. I saw very clearly during my 26DEC05 – 30JAN06 experiences that only a single, thin veil separates the physical realm from the spiritual realm and we each need to hold true to our souls and highest ideals, like blending your unique voice in a large chorus, because as of 07FEB06 that veil has been lifted and we are expected to recognize what we perceive accurately and act accordingly.
Your job, whether you like it or not or fail in any attempt altogether, is to love human kind so deeply that you are able to distinguish individual Earthly souls in a place where everyone is exactly, vibrantly, precisely what they **imagine** they are. They have forms which often look something similar as they did in life, however, they can instantly adapt, sometimes without knowing it themselves, to reflect their self-images because they no longer have bodies or clothing or hairstyles which define and limit them, they have the expressiveness of their souls and their spirits give them form and substance and weight where there were never such concepts before. We bring substance to the invisible realms and we’ll know conscious immortality right now if we would only imagine the possibility.
Many people have healthy self-images and they know they reflect their best instincts if not their truest desires and the vast majority of us adhering to our unjust societies and our corrupt leadership and have poor self-images and we look more like flying piles of shit flung screaming into everlasting nothingness than anything resembling a brilliant human being who once lived an entire lifetime with every favor and blessing and mercy in Eden.
Love other people like they’ve never been loved by anyone else and recognize that each and every human is your soul mate; because humans have souls and while everything has a spirit (form and existence in the invisible realms of God), only humans **also** have souls.
If we can’t recognize people’s souls here in the physical realm where we identify ourselves by our genetics and our environments and our “interpersonal associations” and especially our bodies, then, well, then we’re living in Hell on Earth, aren’t we? How deeply to you have to get to know someone before you are willing to acknowledge that s/he is human? And just for being alive in the same place at the same time that person deserves the opportunity to look you in the eyes and “meet” you too, seems to me, its not like God commanded you to break your face smiling or anything, come on… let’s grow up now.
Quit sitting around praying I’ll update my blog and let you know what’s happening in the spiritual realm so you know what to do here, you know exactly what to do and you’re NOT acting accordingly; so… you’ll suffer the consequences of your actions and inactions and misinformed actions and especially your deliberate actions and the Earth will die sooner than Her time and we’ll leave Her blessed carcass for something else’s larvae and lock, stock and barrel for the vultures already branding us for marketable products and scrap they can reuse. It shouldn’t be long now, our own governments have nearly picked our souls to shreds; but Evil wants to inherit “early” since I was awakened “early” and I (of all people capable of the frightful task), delivered the message of God’s Everlasting Forgiveness to the Original Evil. That means whatever “wrong” the deity we call “Evil” inflicted upon us no longer is distinguishable from Humanity as God created and therefore it was correct and obedient to God and not a “wrong” at all. And now that Humanity survived and matured and maybe even learned something from that experience, Evil waits only for the “Safeguards” to announce the confirmation from On High and the Earth and all living things remaining on the Earth are ruled by Evil Himself. Period; that’s our collective asses, those of us remaining when our governments finally run out of ammunition and “Mother Nature” settles down again (in a couple thousand years, she mentioned, I believe; but I’ve never been good with time so don’t blame me if it’s longer), that’s all of us for the rest of eternity and since God mentions this repeatedly throughout the ages Humanity has existed, I will trust that being ruled and controlled by Evil for the rest of eternity is sincerely a part of the whole Divine Plan thing God intends to happen. I try not to sweat the details.
I don’t believe those who “woke” me targeted me specifically; I believe all the “Shields” and “Scribes” and “Speakers” were awakened at once, the hundreds of thousands of us, and I’m the Bitch Mother of them all because I dared bare my soul to Evil and lived to tell about it. Do you even care to hear the tone of my voice or see my facial expressions when I speak? Obviously not, none of you have knocked on my door since January and that time, as well as every time prior, it was just to belittle me or destroy something I worked many times harder than most to obtain and certainly not out of any interest in me specifically except make certain I didn’t think of any “evil” thoughts about you and psychically make something “bad” happen for you or something equally unimaginable to me. I have plenty of reasons to mistrust you, yet here I am updating the information in my blog and urging you, yet again, to quit what you’re doing and act according to God’s Divine Plan instead. But your fates are already sealed and I’ve done what I was called to do and I’m prepared for the next phase; I’m not losing any sleep over your jobs. If you had minded your own business like Shoghi Effendi showed you with his bare hands and hundreds of tomes of writing in all your favorite languages of the time to do **when** this Day came; you would have a minute to catch your breath and prepare for the next siege like I’m blessed to find the time, too…but **you** don’t, another storm is breaking upon you without relent from anything else and things are only noticeably “distressful” our entire human history compared to what’s soon approaching **you** with intent to do worse than just kill you to extinction, that’s the last thing **this** Evil wants. It will enthrall you utterly and command your body like a walking zombie and you’ll be daydreaming for something “better” and struggling with your daily challenges for eternities and never know you’re long buried and hardly mourned and even the Earth Herself drifts like dust around the cosmos with none ever knowing She once bore life blessed by God and all the Powers of the Universe.
Quit blowing shit up to stop it from harming your precious lives; move yourselves and your families and your homes and all the shit you’ve bought, if it means that much to you, to a safer location, without delay. Blowing a volcano up might stop it from erupting; but that was a natural function of the Earth and something else is tipped just that much more off balance in response to your selfish actions. If something is a potential danger like a river bed beneath a dam, or cliff edge eroding into the ocean, or hot melted rocks falling out of the sky when your mountain god gets pissed, then logic demands that you build your home elsewhere unless you’ve literally no where else to go or you’re invincible. Just quit blowing shit up, even to “test” it; you’ve already detonated the one that killed your Mother, why do you have to go for overkill too? You can detect ghosts with instruments, for heaven’s sake, measure the physical evidence and calculate the odds and move you and everyone you know out of harms way. It’s very simple. Wet dreams and safe harbors to you.

Welcome Home
Mood:  bright
Topic: Dear Diary
I spoke to my son for the first time since he was sentenced to eight years in prison for his involvement in a gang related armed robbery (it was a very realistic looking BB gun)...he was unarmed and it was his first offence. After serving more than six years of his sentence, he was released early this morning with "good time."
Welcome home my number one son, welcome home for good.

Daughter of the Pride (nearly year old "new" fiction)
Mood:  bright
Topic: On A New Topic :D
Excerpt from Daughter of the Pride by Meliora Volens

(Excerpted from the end of “Norton the Owl-Breasted (Chapter 2)” to give a point of reference to the reader).

When Candice left I was called to the living room to tell what happened and since it wasn’t polite to make a person crane their neck to talk to you, and the other furniture was occupied, I sat on the floor between Norton’s feet and reported things the way it seemed to happen and hoped I wouldn’t be scolded too much for being in the right.
She didn’t have to ask me if I wanted to be in a relationship with her; I’d already been claimed and everything that I am already belonged to her. She didn’t need to ask, I’d already said yes and writhed under her power and as far as I was concerned I could only hope she had even a small place in her life for me.
She called me closer to rise on my knees and “stand” between her legs and allowed me to place my hands on her thighs rather than the arms of the recliner. I wanted to climb into her lap and adore her and all I could think to do was smooth the fabric of her cords the wrong way and back again, and hope she might tell me to do something else before I acted on my impulses again and she felt the need to restrain me; although I rather liked that too, I remembered just then.
“Do you like me at all, Heather?” She asked me with a friendly face and something crafty in her eyes.
“Oh my God, I *adore* you, I worship you! I love you, Norton, you’re just the most amazing person I ever met and I know I’m really young for you, but I just want to be near you and love you and just do everything you need…” I babbled for a few minutes with hardly a breath. I really liked her a lot.
She waited until I’d wound myself down to a lower pitch, placing her hands on mine, and spoke calmly, in casual intonation for the waves of emotions washing through us.
“Excellent. Thank you, girl; that’s all I needed to know. Would you like to sit here with me while my friends and I socialize?”
Thus, I was enslaved by a woman’s charms and born a natural lesbian.
I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to think of moving into Norton’s room and sleeping in her bed with her. Other lovers did that, some years it was almost like musical bedrooms around that place, but it simply never crossed my mind till many years later. I suppose if that had been something that occurred to Norton she would have mentioned it herself if she liked the idea.

Flying Romps and Owl Ash (Chapter 3)

On the other hand, I often slept at the end of her royal bed in a St. Bernard sized pet bed because I was too pooped out or goofy minded to crawl downstairs to my own.
Her room was usually hot, even with the bathroom sized sliding window they’d used to build the “greenhouse” window wide open all day. But I suppose that’s no excuse; I think I just liked being nude around her.
I felt encouraged by the fact that whenever I asked what she thought I should wear for a particular occasion, she would always say, “Nude, but I suppose that one green dress I like so much (or whatever her whim of the moment), if you must ask.” So, I went nude around her in private without her needing to ask.
Privately, she pampered me like a royal concubine and it was difficult for me to keep my hands to myself, although I did my best to follow her mood and respond accordingly and that was probably the easiest thing I did with her. After a time of observing her daily routine and watching how she did things for herself, I felt insignificant and wondered why she treated me so well, or even had me around at all. There was absolutely nothing I could do for that woman she wasn’t fully capable of handling much more effectively herself.
However, every time I climbed the stairs to question her about matters, by the time I reached the landing at the elbow of the stairwell I’d forget all else except anticipation of her; and crossing the threshold at the top felt like stepping into a fantasy land where nothing else in the universe mattered except Norton and me.
There were small, hardly noticeable signs around, and she was extremely private in private too, but I was more oblivious than ever. She told me everyday that she would be only my first lover and I would soon fly off into the life I was meant to live and remember her fondly the rest of my days. As if she were Christ Himself and could see that I would be her Judas. I wouldn’t hear a word of it.
I knew 26 years was a big age difference, and I saw only the benefits in loving a strong, smart, loyal girl like me; and I didn’t expect anything of her too, I told her that back everyday. It was like a greeting the first five minutes she had me to herself after a time, seemed to me; and I’m certain that’s the closest we ever got to an argument.
I reveled in everything she did with me, especially the teasing and building my anticipation and controlling me to my wits ends. I could be enraged and resistant the entire time and she would still have utter command of my body and enjoyed taking my emotional control from me even more. And my tears didn’t work at all in persuading her she “hurt” me or that I “hated” it; she enjoyed it even more when I cried because my body relaxed and my mind escaped and she was left with the real me from that point on.
I worked really hard for a time to skip the whole emotional part and just give her the “real” me from her first kisses, her first words, in fact, but I came to the conclusion that I simply can’t get there without the steps in between, or the right someone to engage me either (as fun as “self-engagement” has always been for me).
Today, the sound of the crack of a cane or whip against flesh makes my own body anticipate sexual and masochistic gratification. A big part of me wouldn’t have felt as satisfied if she expected me to just lay there and take it without having some feelings about it. And I simply wanted her to seduce me.
Norton lost her owl to cancer in 1977 and I think she would have recovered in time if the surgeons had done a better job with what they left behind. It seemed like they hacked them off in the middle, sucked the rest of the fatty tissue off her muscles and stretched the remaining skin any way it best covered her chest. It was just so shocking to see even the artistry of it destroyed like that, as if the sight of it had offended the doctor.
She attempted to make light of it later when there was nothing left to be done, telling folks Picasso had attacked her owl and if people thought that was bad, they should talk to Picasso; he’s still dead. But I knew she never got over her grief and resentment; I don’t believe I have either. What the doctor did to her wasn’t even sadistic, it was just plain cruel. I rarely saw her chest after I helped her remove the stitches and even closing my eyes and remembering her owl flying in my face, it still wasn’t the same.
Not that I’d ever been allowed to adore her breasts like I might Holly or someone else. She distracted me and redirected me and it never occurred to me that I didn’t have much of a sexual relationship with her owl; until it was gone.
She took her time the first few months before I knew she had cancer, exploring my body and discovering me and learning my mind; and I didn’t understand why she was waiting so long to make love to me, or at least let me have more of my way with her too. Perhaps she would have romped my bones sooner if I hadn’t mentioned anything or pushed things to the edge sometimes, I don’t know; she was certainly sadistic enough to enjoy hearing me beg and try everything else.
However when she finally struck it was more like a raging fight than love; as violent as rape except I welcomed her into me and absorbed everything she wanted to beat into me with abandon and all my senses reeling. Even in the distance as my mind called out warning and alarm, I egged Norton on and dared her to cum in *my* mouth for once because even if she killed me in the explosion there was no denying that I’d had some affect on her. And I think that’s really all I wanted; to know I’d ruffled her feathers a little too.


The Earth Goddess Sadist and Other Kinds of Lesbians (Chapter 4)

Wet Dreams; Chapter 2.1
Mood:  bright
Topic: Wet Dreams (Fiction)
Wet Dreams 2.1
Andi looked at her watch again and swept her eyes over the crowd more slowly; alert to every bobbing face which seemed about Claire’s height. She reread the electronic sign which still happily announced Claire’s flight disembarking and rescanned the reassuring shuffling and commotion of people heading toward the baggage claims area and thought it amazing how many people they could cram on a plane these days.
Andi decided the sight of Claire was almost enough to forget the past several grueling months; but as she approached, even forty feet away, Andi could see her parent’s deaths had left her ashen and hollow and likely scarred for life. Andi cried too; the crowd excused themselves around them or brushed uncaringly past, and they just stood there holding each other for dear life.
Home at last through the early morning commuters, Andi tucked Claire into bed and puttered around the house unable to sleep. She unpacked Claire’s bags and threw the few dirty things in a load with hers and for the first time realized she didn’t resent washing laundry quite so much with Claire’s panties tumbling with her socks again. Andi prepared extra food for the first time in seven months and wrapped the larger portion on a plate in the fridge for Claire when she woke knowing she’d only eat a few bites. She took hers outside to the little table on the deck at her original place rather than Claire’s and leisurely ate in the brightening day.
“Claire’s home,” Andi sighed; exhaling smoke from her freshly lit cigarette toward the tree, “she’s home.”
The elm nodded and whispered to itself and somehow whatever resentment Andi felt about life seemed suddenly insignificant and nothing felt more important to her right that moment than crawling in with Claire and sleeping for the rest of their lives. Andi had only one more thing to do first; get on the computer and write everything down before she forgets. She thought it would take her about an hour, tops.
Claire finally woke about dinnertime and found Andi asleep on her keyboard…she took a photo with her cell phone, wadded a stray article of clothing under Andi’s face, and found the plate in the fridge; Claire was famished and ate it all without heating it first.

I stand corrected.
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Words of Wisdom

This photo comes from the official Bahai website and is the **only** mention of her I could find, from the Photo Galleries of the Eighth elections of the Universal House of Justice 1998 Eighth International Bahai Convention
From Wikipedia.com comes a short biography and the information that she, Amatu'l-Baha Ruhiyyih Rabbani Khanum, Hand of the Cause of God, was born 1910 in New York, and died 19JAN00 at 90 years old, exactly 19 days, (the length of one Bahai calendar month which is 19 days per each of 19 months of a Bahai calendar year) before my mother who would have been 60 that April.
I'm not sure how significant my mother's death is in this particular case, however it's interesting to note how the coincidences keep puzzling themselves together. My son still needs to read her works, I suggest you do so as well.

Hooray for Geeks!!
Mood:  bright
Topic: Words of Wisdom
Here's another link for you. Excellent, it's nice to know folks who couldn't possibly know I exist have sharpened their tools and work on understanding these discoveries...we're right on schedule. :D
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/07/060714103252.htm

I may have some more fiction for you soon; I'm working on a way I can share chapters of my books and short stories in an easier to read format...let me know if you have any suggestions...I'm happy to switch to another free blogger with less advertising and popups too. :D

How my mother turned lesbian...
Mood:  bright
Topic: Dear Diary
{Note; this post was written 09JUL06 and posted today when I found the photo and overcame several technical difficulties}.

My mother wasn’t really lesbian; she was really a very gregarious “flower child” who loved Janice Joplin and Helen Ready and Mama Cass and wanted to bring peace and joy to the world by empowering women. She’d been married and annulled just out of Beverly Hills High to a nice gay boy partly because all the parents believed it would straighten them both out, to cure him of homosexuality and to cure her of her “unnatural sexual drives;” but teenagers are tricky little shits and they took the wedding gifts and the cute little apartment and the three of them (my mom, her husband and his boyfriend) did exactly as they pleased regardless of the pretty certificate hanging on their living room wall like an Oscar for best performances. According to my father, he had lost contact with my mother while she was in high school and only later met her at a nude beach when the trio celebrated their annulment. According to my mother and her best girlfriend, my father’s cousin, my father hung out with his biker buddies a lot except when he found some reason to hang out with my mother, which was unusually often for a man eighteen years older. My mother’s annulled husband died of AIDS (pneumonia, technically) before anyone knew the disease existed, and I would have liked to have known how well he remembered my father at that time too. The only female relationship I’ve ever seen my father involved was with my mother although he’s never once stepped out of the closet and nearly violently denies any of the hundreds of his body builder or biker buddies were ever closer than “a bunch of guys living in the same house,” and while it’s very difficult for me to believe knowing humans as well as I do; he, himself, insists he’s led a celibate life since my Down’s Syndrome brother was born, which still doesn’t explain the 38 years of his life prior to that. Oh, he’s a flirt, my father, even at 80 years old he’s got little old ladies fawning all over him and wetting their panties at his accomplishments and sturdy health and his odd sense of humor, but that’s it…that’s all he seems to need from anyone, since it’s too late to admit to himself or anyone else he’s really gay.
My mother’s family is exceedingly wealthy, there’s old wealth and hard earned wealth and some sudden windfalls in there too, and the interesting thing is that my mother wouldn’t have been a part of it at all if my grandmother hadn’t been a gold digger and married her step-father when she was five. My grandmother was the ultimate “stage mother” as well; she was an extraordinarily ambitious woman and to give her due credit she was an excellent wife and gracious hostess for her husband till the utter ends of their lives. I’m not sure how much of her ambitions were individual plans; things more grew from each other till everyone lived this typical “wealthy” life of meeting the “right people” and trouping from one penthouse to another in pursuit of fame and stardom. I sincerely believe my grandmother was inspired by the brilliance of my mother and began her journey wanting only to see her beautiful, extraordinary daughter have the finer things in life and the opportunities she had to beg, borrow and steal and still faced vicious sabotage from other women to having any of it for herself.
My mother was Shirley Temple brilliant, walking and talking about as early as I did, (from birth if you believed my grandmother), and singing and dancing, and flooring audiences with her talents before she was five years old.

This photo is one of the very few surviving from Sharon Judith, my mother’s, first professional portfolio, she was 29 months old. Photo Credit: Bob Plunkett, Los Angeles, CA, 1942.
Everyone lived happily ever after until my mother was ten years old and her sister was born; after that it was just a long series of unfortunate events which left her and I (effectively ignoring all the other children my mother brought into the world entirely) disowned and abandoned by 1968 for marrying a black man instead of having an abortion.
My father seemed to live two completely opposite lives in cycles, his respectable life as an artist/architect, husband and father which everyone knew and loved and the daddy I knew who spent every other available moment rehearsing us for some talent show or magic faire or production audition. I rode with him to his rehearsals while my mother finished dental hygiene college and took care of my brother and within a few months of my brother’s very open adoption with terrific foster parents equipped to provide my brother a healthy, stable home life geared specifically for folks with his challenges; my mother joined the group and for so many reasons I’m sure I have zero clue, that lasted about a year before things turned ugly.
My parents divorced, damaging themselves and breaking me into little pieces, literally, and when the dust settled I lived with my mother and new baby brother and one of the other approximately 150 troupe members I’d known as long as my father had who was now my step-father although he pretty much lived at the jazz nightclub where he worked most nights. We lived in “Holly Park,” city owned public housing which even with new linoleum floors and natural gas rather than coal heating, they were basically slave quarters for single women with children and poverty stricken old people.
However, my mother was a popular and brilliant young woman who had launched herself out of her mother’s abusive clutches and with the prestigious dental assistant degree in her grip she continued to alternately pop Valium and speed and worked full-time at the private dental practice and studied nursing at the community college on the honors rolls every quarter and after two and a half years of learning to spell big words and poking oranges (and eventually people) with needles she proudly came home one rainy afternoon with her midwifery license. She quit her job with the dentist and hired full-time from her 10 hours a week volunteer job at the revolutionary Planned Parenthood clinic and two weeks later I held a ten second old screaming baby boy while my mother helped the boy’s mother reposition herself, three or four feet of clamped cord carefully held by the mother’s lover huddled over us; and that was how mom became known as a “lesbian” … a woman who loved women. She really only had two or three female lovers in her entire life (as opposed to sex partners where there seemed to be a distinction in my mother’s mind and just about anyone with clean breath was prospect), and only one of those actually identified female in private as well; but on the butch scale, she was right up there too.
Back in the swing of things, my mother rejoined the troupe, my father and step-father were still there and unless you know carnival/theater people you might think that was an uncomfortable position, but there was only the reassuring family bickering and backstage dramas and not only did we thrive, we grew. By this time, just about all the adults who’d not already joined the troupe as a family had paired off and procreated and about two dozen children about my age and I were also working members of the troupe. There had been only three or four children involved when my father first contracted us, himself and me, just a few years before.
Three years and one record album later, the troupe disbanded and we moved into a big house with a half dozen Vietnam Vet nurses and their girls (or bois), and the occasional male lesbian or gay couple, and women continued having babies from turkey basters and persisted in hedonistic and unprotected sex and somehow no one was particularly bothered by their poverty and my mother was the darling in the center of it all.
She hauled me to the Democratic convention for Dixie Lee Rae and marched us in every demonstration and picket line for the feminist movement and gay rights. My mother did want me involved with her activities to a large degree to educate me and involve me in bringing peace in the world; but I was eleven and dealing with kids whose parents had taught them ugly words like “nigger lover” and “fag hag” where I was forced to defend my half-black brother and Shawn Cassidy look-alike girlfriend and when the hormones fully kicked in, that was about all I could handle and the next year when social services swept through our neighborhood I was snatched away from all that I’d ever known and made ward of the state. I closed my mouth, found a quiet place on the fringes, listened and learned and waited for my call to rejoin the fray…that time has come.

From Me to the UHoJ and any living Hands
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Words of Wisdom
Shoghi Effendi assigned me the task of reporting my findings and feelings and observations from my own perspective and in my own words on my public website because he claims exactly the correct people have finally taken notice of it and my job as "Scribe" (or Bitch Mother of the Universe as was originally declared, and thank you God, for Shoghi's twisted sense of humor and the new family word "whachamastrumpet" which was Shoghi's hysterical suggestion to replace my daughter's indirect offer of "bitch" before he realized how much times had changed - I don't think I've ever met a more thriving and balanced dead person), and although it seems a great deal as it's always been for me I'm told my work is about to begin, within days; however, it should be noted that Shoghi is still dead and communicating to me at a great distance as well as no distance at all simultaneously which is confusing to me in measuring time against the sensations of my flashes of vision; and also that I am still time impaired in the "real" world continues to be a significant factor. My suggestion is to take Shoghi literally and assume he wouldn't joke about the extinction of humanity regardless whose timing is still off track with the Divine Plan.
I felt inspired to see how prepared the folks behind the official Bahai website might be for the masses of people who will allegedly according to Bahai prophesy, flock by the thousands to Bahai houses of worship and centers to join the Faith. I believe Shoghi and most reading this blog can see by my perspective that I feel rather less than welcome to join the Bahai Faith even were I inclined to change my former decision and find a valid reason I might subscribe to an organized religion.
Wait a minute, exactly how approachable are you in fact to folks like me if I’m unlike anyone you’ve ever met and I’m swearing to you on **any** Holy Book you like that I wouldn’t have said a single word to you had I not been commanded by several extraordinarily influential entities to do so? Oh, you know plenty of poor women raising children against all odds and humanity too, but I’m not limited to that in my universe. My children are brown and I’m not noticeably albino although I’m light sensitive and translucent enough to wonder about testing, regardless, I’m obviously fully white genetically so there’s no hiding the fact that race isn’t much of an issue for me in terms of sexual preference. Then, since I don’t generally volunteer personal information to folks, most assume I’ve experienced the ugliness of marriage and divorce and custody and that all I need is a babysitter and I’d be back on track and working and going out on the weekends with my girlfriends in search of a new step-father figure for my children like the rest of society. The fact is that I was raised by “feminists” and “hippies” and “bikers” and creative thinkers who couldn’t thrive in the military or college or the traditional family unit without detonating and harming loved ones; and each and every one of them tore themselves from society and standards which in all good conscience they could not abide…would prefer death than obey. Simply because the majority of them practiced the precepts of the Bahai Faith as well as any Bahai’s I’ve met in my travels doesn’t mean they’re suddenly straight, conservative, mainstream society worthy (were they even interested) individuals.
My son is one Bahai who had already had a great deal of exposure to the Bahai Faith and had declared himself a Bahai after several meetings with the Local Spiritual Assembly and I believe every teen in the community, and as his mother, I felt if he approached all his life’s decisions with such enthusiasm and care he would sincerely be capable of building the New World Order as his Faith expects him to do; until his Faith let him down and he wound up in prison in spite of my every effort and sacrifice to provide him opportunities with the national Bahai Center. My understanding was that Bahai youth are encouraged to volunteer at the Bahai Center for what they call a “Year of Service” because these youth are outstanding in some way and if they gained experience where they could use their talents and skills toward promoting the Faith and waging peace then the theory is that they will grow into brilliant adults who have loved ones and children and friends who follow their examples and we all live happily ever after.
My son has now paid his debt to society for reaching out to Chicago inner city youth and getting caught up in proving himself (as a tough Seattle inner city youth spreading the Word since he was in town anyway and he missed his home boys at home and all) in order for any of them to look twice at him without laughing themselves to death. And although he’ll likely pursue some college level education, he will still never quite fit into any mainstream role in life, including overcoming his future wife’s reservations in sharing a life and procreating with a former prison inmate. However, none will be able to prevent him from speaking out once he begins and after six years in prison, there are literally millions of young people who are much more inclined to listen to him now; how many young adults feel oppressed and offended by government and police injustices in the United States major cities alone?
I’ve searched the official Bahai website for specific information on what the Bab and Bahaullah said about reintegrating Bahai prisoners into the community and it was likely too specific a topic for the general public, yet for a self-declared Pagan therefore deliberately non-Bahai like myself, it’s not worth searching for a similar forum to ask someone; and I didn’t see a single forum for members or a place to log in for registered Bahais or any way of interacting with each other which both surprised and disappointed me. I then searched for the general Bahai views regarding homosexuality and same gender marriage, but there was nothing on those topical and timely questions; and I finally closed the site certain that if Bahai attitudes were very much different than Christian ones regarding gay rights and human sexuality then they would have typed up a nice page like they did for their views on the equality of the male and female genders, and promoting women’s rights. I’ll assume, then, that those of both genders or between genders are equal to none.
I felt that there was perhaps two actual humans associated with maintaining the site and the only “news” came from the Bahai Media Center and simply seemed like an online version of the American Bahai newspaper which is perfectly acceptable as much as it feels like all the lights are on but no one is home. I feel more put off than I did welcomed from clicking on every page which might lead me to a book I could pick up from a city library and read what the most recent Manifestations of God (according to the Bahai Faith) said or something, anything, which might lead me to the answers I sought or any reason at all to go back and check for updates in the future. I was persistent and wanted to prove a point, imagine all the hundreds of people who might have been interested in the Bahai Faith if it looked like something different than all the other churches in cyberspace who expect them to come repent their sins and follow God’s laws for merely hearing the name of the Manifestation. Your Promised One has arrived and the last time I called the National Bahai Centre, you didn’t have a qualified receptionist answering the phones at the darkest time of the year when most folks question their faith and the purpose of gift giving as a part of their spirituality. It would have been a comfort to me to call the Center and talked with someone who perhaps wouldn’t be able to solve my challenges or answer my questions; but who empathized with my feelings and had such faith in the correctness of their path that they would share a short prayer with me or tell me I’m on the right track and they’d see to it that a message was passed to someone more informed on my particular topic of question when they returned from Christmas vacation or **something** that told me I would be welcomed regardless of my present state or past experiences. I don’t believe it’s proselytizing to reply to people’s emails in a timely manner or to offer to speak to someone by phone or in person locally. What are you protecting your Faith from; others learning what you know, bringing more peace to the world than you do, going to a better Abha Kingdom when they die instead of you, what is it that prevents you from sharing your God with someone like me?
You disobey your Messengers and think you will get away with it because you’re doing a great deal of good for fellow Bahais and most of your neighbors; batten down the hatches, ladies and gentlemen, you’re in for the storm of the millennium … you’ve got some more housecleaning to do before **anyone** will be trampling in and accepting God’s Plan en masse as promised. Meantime, you think about what kinds of national emergencies it might take to see the hundreds of thousands of prisoners like my son (not the sincerely dangerous criminals) released within a stunningly short period of time in the very near future because several of these events (beginning with WW3 in Iraq, and including Katrina and natural disasters) are already occurring and gaining momentum from each other by the instant. What extinction events are taking place right this moment, like the deterioration of the Y chromosome, that we must discover and solve or we are more than simply dead, were utterly extinct? Nothing like us has ever or will ever exist like us because we’re **all** that exists of our species living right now and if we cease to exist everything that was created in the universe will never be discovered and no one will ever learn how we came to exist in the very first place, exactly how the elements achieved their balance and the atoms combined to spark just enough light to ignite without incinerating in a flash and all those mysterious things, and if that’s the case, if all that limitless space with all the wonders therein are left to themselves forever because we became extinct before we left the protection of the Earth’s womb and destroyed her with our birth too, then we don’t need to follow any laws whatsoever, neither God’s or our own, because we won’t even remember we existed when the last human that ever lived finally dies. I wonder how many people look at the world and feel they’ve nothing left to lose but their self-respect? I think it’s about time we got very serious about waging peace and loving others unconditionally now; especially when someone like me has more faith in the Bab and Bahaullah and God’s Plan from my steadfast obedience to the True Mother than some in the highest ranks of Their Faith. Wet dreams and safe harbors to those who heeded the signs and followed their loftiest ideals every step of the way; and when all else fails simply follow the lyrical advice of Dori-fish and, “just keep swimming.”

What does a lesbian want in a man.....hmmm.
Mood:  bright
Topic: Words of Wisdom
The age old question, “what does a woman want in a man” was raised on a list dedicated to and participated by predominantly “stone butch” and “F2M” folks; and it struck me again how very mainstream we’ve become.

When my mother’s friends came back from Korea and Vietnam not many thought twice about how “masculine” or “dominant” they were in their relationships after the lives they led while away from home. They learned first hand exactly which feminine qualities assisted them in achieving their objectives and which masculine qualities gave them the inner fortitude and authority to keep them there. The reason the military is more successful in treating the genders equally according to their skills and ambition is because the majority of military people are hot-blooded young men who have very little difficulty with the thought that his nurse might be a lesbian; and since it’s a big secret, “don’t ask, don’t tell,” that makes it all the more fun.

It’s probably because I was raised very differently than the majority, but sincerely, I can’t possibly be as unique as I might imagine. Even when my parents thought they could “do the right thing” as my grandmother insisted and get married and work jobs and be “good” parents and all, their lives hardly changed at all at home. The reality is that, among ordinary humans, gender and gender roles are much more fluid than they’d like to keep everything neatly sorted apart.
What’s actually preventing you from loving each and every one you meet? Their manner of dress, their scars, their skin tone, or perhaps the way they looked suspiciously at you too; what was it that told you that they didn’t deserve your friendship or love or worse no friendship or love from anyone else either? I’d understand if you met someone by them running at you with a hatchet; that would be a reasonable hesitation in just reaching out and greeting them with a smile, but when was the last time that happened? Who is it you are actually meeting if you don’t actually nod and smile and at least **think** a “Hello” directly to someone else? So, folks need to meet some criteria somewhere in the back of your mind before you’re the first to nod and smile? Have you ever pretended you didn’t notice someone who seemed friendly toward you for no reason at all; maybe thought them too eager to be the right kind of friend for you?

“Say, she looks friendly, that must be her daughter with her, but she’s definitely giving off gaydar…I wonder why they’re riding the bus today? Oh, well, she’ll think I’m a complete letch to talk to her out of nowhere with her kid around and all, I’ll just give her my cool smile and nod if she glances my way…she’s got all those rings on…yeah, I’d want to be in a relationship with her and someone like that is already in a relationship and would only want to be friends with someone like me in the first place. Look at her all happy in her little bi life without any kind of clue what any of it really means….”

Do you see where I’m going with this? What’s so wrong with loving someone at first sight? Because what? It’s not really “love” if you can’t find an agreeable way to rub bodies together and live in the same house for a number of months till everyone’s goals are screwed totally? And no, you really don’t want that woman you see three desks away from you because she’s biologically, genetically straight and you’re not. And on top of it all, don’t you find it suspicious that you feel “driven” by the same motivations and promptings as folks with larger y chromosomes? Scientifically, just because of brain chemistry and the infinite possibilities of just strength and programming of a single gene in the human code, each and every one of us will interact, sometimes radically differently, with everyone we meet…as similar as we may appear being at the same place at the same time and giving off pheromones and signals and saying “Hello” and all that. Why is it so easy to assume a relationship will end poorly when everyone knows it will end some kind of way and it’s very easy to plan for that eventuality in advance? What is a relationship if you can’t adapt it for your own personal needs? What do I want in a “significant” person in my bedroom?

I want a self-made individual who has no fear of looking me in the eye and giving me that cool nod and smile and hoping I’m in ten “intimate” relationships all at once and still can think of nothing but meeting you afterward. I want a self-made individual who has matured past giggling over body parts and whom is clear about when (if ever) any boundaries might be explored or ignored altogether, because I could give a shit about whether my “man” has breasts or not; I am much more than my physical needs. Someone who is “self-made” I imagine wouldn’t stop after the first successful steps are taken and expect the other to jump in their shoes and meet them “half-way” and treat them exactly equally, kind for kind, in return from that point onward…until everyone feels unhappy and starts “fresh from the beginning” again and thus a bad habit rather than a new relationship is born. One might slow the pace or intensify their efforts; but a self-made individual would pursue their relationship (or career or any other kind of) goals in earnest as soon as things seem successful…cuz that works out better for folks in the long run.

A self-made person faces the brutal realities of life every moment whether one loves others they way they expected to be loved or not. Even those who manage to live their whole lives in a narrow line survive heartbreak and feel “changed” by their experiences; what’s preventing any of us from taking that leap of fantasy and thinking a smile and a cool nod could lead to something so spectacular it’s worth rewriting the ending to preserve ahead of time? Because it’s not the way other people do things, and they’ll think you’re doing it all wrong and make you do it their way or uglier anyway, right? Yeah, self-made individuals are rare…then the rest of them are either gay or married.

And I have to say, it’s still not about anyone else, what they think they want or need to feel fulfilled in their lives because the truth is they will feel more fulfilled in their lives if you had decided to befriend them and later parted friends than they do right this minute with you nodding and smiling and letting them get lost in the crowd alone. It’s about you and the actions you take after you know your feelings; you prevent yourself and limit yourself and restrict yourself to your traditions and misinformation and I could lean over and shake your hand and give you my phone number and smile and nod when you tell me you’ll call and there you are still feeling lonely and rejected and keep the number in your wallet till it’s worn invisible thinking I was just being nice (or wanted something “more” from you than you felt willing to commit) and you’d be perfectly correct. Or maybe you think I’m a slut and hand my number out to everyone…with my teenage daughter sitting right there and all?

Grow up; if you want to build a healthy, loving relationship with anyone then go out and do that. Learn how to say goodbye so that you really are still friends till you die (or the best you can do)…that would prove that you loved someone else unconditionally… the whole “live and let live” thing really only works after you’ve met someone and gotten to know them well enough and found that your life’s goals are really too dissimilar to be more intimate than that.

Think about it and I’ll get back to you later…:D Wet dreams and safe harbors to you.

Happy Father's Day
Mood:  bright
Topic: Dear Diary
Happy Father's Day to all the fathers and single mothers in the world. :D Here's my father who is now 80 years old and has kept "in shape" in several ways, including his vocal talents and mental sharpness and I consider him a magician if not a wizard of cloaked and mysterious powers. I'm TSOing still and wishing you all wet dreams and safe harbors.

My handwriting reads: Top; My father at about 19 (1945) off to seek his fortune in show biz. Middle; 1952, In front of the broadcasting studio where he worked as voice actor and “weather man.” Bottom: 1953, In the “back lot” about the time he met my mother and became enamored of her. My mother was the best friend of his cousin and an admiring 12 year old fan of the radio shows.

No "ancient slave trade route" you insist?
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Words of Wisdom
The True Mother begs to differ. Modern technology only offers us more varied modes of transportation; we're driving Peoples to the edge and ends of the Earth, don't you feel it in the flow of things? I feel it in the flow of water and wind and lava and mud, don't you?
http://www.kirotv.com/money/9378982/detail.html?rss=sea&psp=news

Just one more link to the Bones of the Ancestors and the Pacific Northwest; may these women be reunited with whom cherishes them most, Elder's Beloved Chosen.

It's Farfetched...Here's the leads for you.
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Words of Wisdom
New shipping line in Portland, OR.
http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/opb/news.newsmain?action=article&ARTICLE_ID=928919

“West Nile” virus avoids PNW (like a plague? :D )
http://www.oregonlive.com/metro/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/news/1150338334168880.xml&coll=7

The National Antiquities Act is your road to slavery as it preserves underwater land…too.
http://www.earthtimes.org/articles/show/7174.html

Japan orders more planes, Microsoft security updates and more!!
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/businesstechnology/2003059778_bizbriefs14.html?syndication=rss

Just a few links to lead you to your own “coincidences.” If Microsoft and Apple and Boing and all these companies primarily in the Pacific Northwest are destined to assist all these world leaders....President Hu from China in his visions of building on the Moon, President Fox and his deal with Bush to keep the centuries old slave trade routes -- you know the one's the Spanish took over from the Aztecs and brought "Inquisition" to the Americas -- in more efficient management. No one is worried about Canadian boarders, least of all the Canadians which is an error they'll soon regret I suspect, and then there's the President of Denmark who happens to visit Seattle the exact same day our monkey-puppet president Bush takes a surprise trip to Iraq and involves more souls in his bloodthirsty quest for control of all the "cultural and geological resources" remaining on the Earth. Do you want to see the facts all combined or not? How about you combine some now?
I want to hear every word Shoghi Effendi's wife, Ruhija Kanume, has to say...she's not only his widow, she's a Hand of the Cause of God and one of the very last remaining few. I've met her in person a few times and I feel she has a closer connection to God's Divine Plan than I will ever be able to grasp myself from the collective unconscious or her dead husband or where ever I think I happen to get my information. She's a "Promised One" if I ever saw one and I'll trust her judgment on that knowing she's exactly who she is and probably knows who is really called to act in this Dire Hour and preserve the Universal House of Justice and reassert God's Truth in the world instead.
A dangerous wind is blowing and we've long passed the point of no return and Bahai's like my son need to go to Ruhija Kanume and hold her hand and breathe in her grace and wisdom and just listen one more time. Read every word she's written and take note and when you've done that act according to her directives....yes, including the members of the Universal House of Justice. They should have been following the guidance of ALL of the Hands of the Cause of God, not only the male ones...just because she was Shoghi's wife didn't automatically make her a Hand of the Cause of God either. Abdu'l-Baha arranged for them to be married of all the Brilliant Souls he knew and loved in his life; there was a very good reason for that and there is no heirarchy in the Bahai Faith based on gender, remember? I wonder if Ruhija is the one who will recreate the Universal House of Justice to five male members? I think that's still in the future yet, and a dangerous wind still blows. Wet dreams to you, I'm back in TSO again.