Fast food kills the undergrowth. The choir is on the edge of DC, drove late last night from NYC piled into Motel 6 rooms. I got up at dawn to police the environment here, taking pictures back at Trump Inc from the POV of Eartth. When I grow up I want to be a cop for the Earth. I submit the evidence of the crime. The enemy of complexity, of difference, of possible rebellion - McDonalds scorches the Earth with god knows what chemicals. The shrubs remain as ornaments. Any possible life, and life that doesn't apparently increase profits, the official national fixation with Trump. Kill the undergrowth. The rooty small things, the snails, bacteria, fungi and the 10,000 living things in a cubic millmeter of forest floor. Oh, put up a wall to keep all the life that isn't gun-toting white males iwth bellies full of Big Macs... Oh, as our banners say, NOW IS THE HOUR FOR PUSSY POWER. Earthalujah!

With Lena and Savi addressing thankyou postcards to the 300 folks who helped out in this holiday askathon... Its a good idea to do this personally and feel the multitude in this community. Feel the names and feel the addresses, so many fantastical originals in the stop shopping faithful. We have waves of "Oh what did we do to deserve these gifts?" and then we look at our life of singing and preaching until we come to a rest in the forced meditation of jail... Your generosity gives a moment of distance on what we do all year and it's been many years now and we don't know what else we can or want to do but this. The important thing is to hit it hard every time, let it evolve into new actions, let ourselves be surprised by how the activism and the stage dramas can change. Well, much thanks, much thanks. ---Rev, Savi, Lena and Stop Shopping Choir too.

Read the prosecutor's motion to ban Reverend Billy's First Amendment defense. (PDF)

When Trump's power ends, the Earth won't. When Trump is over, the black mothers will still disarm us. When Trump dies from the cancer he gives everyone else, the wetlands will renew the sky with amazing birds...When Trump ends, the Earth will be alive on her own terms. She will let families cross borders with only love as an ID. When Trump opens his eyes he will see that his only opponent is the Earth, her storms and droughts, her wildfires and tornados...

When Trump's power turns to dust, he will blend into forest floors, unknown aquifers, bacteria fields in the magnetic ice...When Trump goes, the Earth won't have to forgive him. When we go, the Earth will lift our death bed to the stars. She will effortlessly take us back.

Not to be discouraging. We have to evolve in the next minutes and years, that's all. Grow new wings from our shoulders, claws for fingers... Most of all we need new dreams.

As a species, we've lost our way. We suffer extreme memory loss, which we were told was good for the economy. We don't know how loving we've been. We can't remember Peace. We think that justice is a new app.

We are entertained so much, how do we sort out when the toxins, and bullets, and advertising that celebrities fling against any passing Other - how do we know when our shopping for famous people is like a secret holocaust? We look up and notice drowning children and wonder if it had anything to do with us. We go for a hike and face a mountain that is completely silent, covered with death. Did I do that? Our solution to send in the drones. When the last mountain lion dies make sure it goes viral.

Life is re-organizing and the question is - will we evolve, too? That would be a gift, a real gift, to remain alive, considering what we've done. We sense that the Earth is making its move. The final songbirds take their position on the wind. They have a message to deliver, an instruction, a code. The Great Dying is here. The eco-systems know what to do.

The Earth asks its predator species to stand in one place and sing, as the regeneration begins.

Donald we shall fight you on the beaches. 
We shall super storm you in the air… 
Earthquake your golf course… 
Freak tornado your hair – we are dancing, dancing, dancing
Not so scared - That’s our flag - it's still there.

It's been a month since Trump won. Sometimes when we lose a loved one we mourn for a year, or two, or sometimes for the rest of our own lives. Losing the presidency to Trump seems something like that kind of loss, at least that's the way a lot of us are acting.

With the Trump win we can't afford to be in a woozy funk anymore. We need to admit that we are partly Trump ourselves, otherwise he would not have been possible. There is no "Other" here. We blew his smoke and positioned his mirrors. The reality shows and Twitter. We created this. We accepted it into our lives and into the lives of our children. We cooperated with corporate marketing even as it de-humanized our lives.

This could take 4 years or 40 years, but you won’t be able to retire from this. You won’t be able to quit the danger and exhaustion.

Our job is the wall. We must smuggle people over it, dig holes through it and under it. We will take the young dancers on the Ghost Ship to Sophia Walinsky with her shattered arm. Black mothers will touch the whites who played God in the high school pageant and couldn't stop.

The pipeline investors doing expensive yoga in Chappaqua will come to care for the broken young men from Afghanistan and Iraq who stand in the blizzard firing sub-lethal projectiles at the children of Redwood Summer and Wounded Knee.