Prayer for Pussy America

5883a9a5f10a9a98468b8f81-2000.jpegLife spirit we felt your presence in our surge of bodies this weekend. We ask for your guidance. We are poised to leap into a new chapter of history. We've had big marches in the past that came to nothing real. We ask that the reality of our love-fest become real action in the coming days. Earthalujah! The patriarchy doesn't believe that our nonviolent pussy coup will take power. The patriarchy congeals and hardens into lonely stone monuments of greatness with their money, gas and guns. Be with us Earth-life! We peacefully refuse to respond to their threats. They will pump out their advertising that they are God and Country. But women lead the way. Joyful life-a-lujah leads the way. The indigenous women from the earth cultures lead with their wisdom. Fear doesn't govern anymore. A previously inconceivable Pussy America brings the soft revolution. Help us to remember that government is a series of choices, agreements, human contracts. The monuments of the great man can be left there. The President can continue spitting insults at his teleprompter, while love’s good governance grows and grows like a wild forest of Pussylujah! Earthalujah!
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Big Bank Robbers

16265907_10154070033485974_2200143898555679405_n_(1).jpgSunday evening at our rehearsal we talked instead of singing this week. We sang so much at the Women's March and wanted to talk. Our talk soared and looked down at the years of activitism. We asked the question, "What would we like to do now? Choosing from our history..." We discovered that we missed performing in that most formidable place: banks. Robbing the bank of itsholy vibe, while informing customers and tellers and ourselves, that Chase Bank, or Citi, or HSBC, or UBS or whichever bank we're offering our radical songs that this bank finances mountaintop removal coal mining or industrial agriculture projects or pipelines... And so we decided to start right away, and we will return to Times Square on Wed and I will sidewalk preach again there with the choir visiting and supporting Nehemiah (on the keyboards and singing) and myself... Back to sidewalk preaching. Back to banking. Earthalujah!
 
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Women's March Lesson One

16143462_10154061999140974_9180329666138444107_o.jpgFast 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!

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We have got this gratitude!

15994937_10154052778010974_3095438087804429604_o.jpgWith 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.

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When Trump Ends

15400998_10153957450385974_7875582623017435942_n.jpgWhen 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.

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We are all threatened animals now

15442185_10153952641615974_280502358535851797_n.jpgNot 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.

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Donald We Shall Fight You On The Beaches

01_med_res.jpgDonald 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.

Ask not what Donald Trump can do for you
The rents are too goddamn high
What country you from? What country you from?
My country is so dark the selfies go blind
My nation is a warehouse of bump and grind
Every thought of Trump is thrown to the gods
And every hip-shake thang is bad for jobs
I dance in a bio-region with no fire codes
I hacked your tweet with my extinct toad

Donald we shall fight you on the beaches. 
We shall super storm you in the air… 
Earth quake your golf course… 
Tornado your hair – we are dancing dancing dancing 
Not very scared That’s our flag - still there. 
That’s our rockets' red glare.

Ask not what Donald Trump can do for you
The rents are too goddamn high
What country you from?
In my country we pick through the wreckage of greatness
...we live in lateness
...our museums are shocked and bored
A thousand celebrities demand one happy ending
Happy with this bloodletting that’s trending?

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The Mourning Is Over

15443041_10153945311930974_5238719969721483863_o.jpgIt'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.

He understood something basic in his customers that a product campaign would want to know. He found that when he spoke so angrily that he didn't make sense, or remember the past or respect the future - that he was speaking intimately with the many Americans who are full of rage but powerless to carry it anywhere. Most Americans have no jobs or bad jobs and that is bad enough. More fundamental even than this: they have no listeners.

We are still in a state of paralyzed sorrow over 9/11. We have never been able to reform the violent security state that grew from it and grows to this day. Nothing in national life has been more damaging than the lassitude, the abandonment of knowing that followed the crashing of the towers.

We so thoroughly shrank from asking why these young men would fly those jets to their deaths. Did we actually believe that they were "jealous of our freedoms." What? We never ever came close to the question upon which we could mature, become compassionate and independent; that is, what is the rage that these young men experienced with so many American bases in and around their country.

I deeply appreciate that the San Francisco Gay Chorus abandoned their international tour to come back to the red states and sing. We need to be among them, and that will be very hard for some of us. The happy racism and woman-hating and warmongering... and the Earth-killing. But these people operate on a little-known radio band where there is only anger and no content. Our direct action must be to live with these Trump voters. I think I've got Trump people on my street. We have live with these forgotten Americans, oppose Trump the idea and not the human - and love the Earth.

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Welcome To The Resistance

15326266_10153939897605974_195589916554956065_o.jpgThis 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.

Many kinds of people immigrated to the United States when there was no wall. Why do we wear these walls around us?

Photo credit: Richard Misrach

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