Once Were Warriors

I saw the brutally violent film “Once Were Warriors” this evening. Made in New Zealand, the film chronicles the life of a Maori woman who leaves her tribal homeland for love. She picks the wrong guy, a violent drunk, who ends up beating her and neglecting their children. The film showcases some traditional Maori ceremonies and philosophies while taking on the issue of domestic abuse and the importance of countering it before it’s too late.

New Year’s Resolutions

My new year’s resolutions are:

  • Heal myself
  • Rediscover my voice and passion

I’m three months in to an injury on the neck portion of my spine (herniated disk at C6-7 and some damage also at C5-6) causing pain in the left side of my body, that is, neck, shoulder, chest, forearm, and hand. The pain just came on gradually… there was no specific trauma. The cause may be related to hunching over a laptop, carrying a heavy backpack while biking everywhere, strain from certain yoga poses, or most likely just routine wear and tear on my aging body. Now, it’s mostly just numbness in my left hand. I’ve reduced my dose of naproxen (naprosyn) to half (500 mg/day) of what I started at (1000 mg/day) and I plan to gradually reduce it further. I’m also taking hydrochlorothiazide (25 mg/day) to keep my blood pressure under 140/90, which seems to be working.

Physical therapy seems to have perhaps reduced the pain, but the numbness is still here, so I may have to consider surgery within the next few months. I’ve seen two neurosurgeons who have different opinions about the surgical options and the potential problems. One recommends fusing three vertebras together in a surgery that enters from the front. The other recommends removing the portion of the disk that is protruding into the nerve bundle entering from the back by drilling holes one (or more?) of my vertebras. There is some chance that all could heal naturally, but that usually happens within the first three months following the injury. I’ll have to decide within the next month or so.
I’m trying to exercise more so I get cardiovascular exercise, keep from gaining more weight, and get back in shape.

Roots, Niger Delta, Botany of Desire, and Blood Canticle

I spent New Year’s Eve watching the entire “Roots” television series, a production inspired by Alex Haley’s book. Apparently, there is a sort of sequel called “Queen.”

I finished my reading and notes on The Trading States of the Oil Rivers; a Study of Political Development in Eastern Nigeria.

I’m still reading Michael Pollan’s Botany of Desire and listening to the audio book of Anne Rice’s Blood Canticle, read delightfully by David Pittu.

Memory Lane: Arrests at Yale University Conference

After barely graduating in 1985 with a degree in Writing and Computer Science from MIT due to my activism there, I hightailed it back to the San Francisco Bay Area where I was hired at Sun Microsystems as a technical writer. The guy who hired me was an anarchist and one of the reasons I got hired was because of my nonviolent anarchist philosophy and activism.

I led a dual life as a well-compensated corporate worker and as an activist for a variety of causes. After the release of a computer called the SPARCstation 1, for which I had worked outrageous hours producing a new set of manuals that made it possible for non-technical users to use the machine, management rewarded me by proposing a paid leave of absence so I could relax and recuperate. When they mentioned the possibility to me, I was overjoyed and requested a year’s sabbatical to travel around the world. When I told my manager this, she gulped and said she’d check to see if it was possible. After checking with her boss, she came back and told me that if I insisted — which I had by telling them I was planning to leave the company if they didn’t grant me the time away — then they would give me a few months paid leave and would try to rehire me upon my return if a position was available.

So, off I went. My first stop on the trip was in October 1989 at Yale University for the Third Gay and Lesbian Studies Conference, organized primarily by a Yale history professor and department head known as John Boswell, author of Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality and of Same-Sex Unions in Pre-Modern Europe.

The conference was rather unique in that quite a few activists — queer activists — attended, including myself. It was the heyday of Queer Nation and its in-your-face direct action tactics for queer activism.

At at the conference, I met the likes of John Boswell, Vito Russo, Larry Kramer, Jonathan Katz (well, I already knew him from activist circles in San Francisco), and a host of others.

The conference was well-run and had the excitement of a groundbreaking moment in history. The sessions were well-attended and provoked fascinating dialogues that lasted long into the night.

At one plenary session, someone ran into the room and yelled that the Yale police were arresting one of the conference attendees. Naturally, this shocked the crowd. The surprising reaction of the crowd was to relocate en masse to the scene of the arrest. Apparently, the Yale police were upset with an activist from a group called Arms Akimbo who was posting somewhat provocative flyers around the university campus.

They were quite surprised when a crowd of dozens of conference attendees arrived at the scene. Once it became clear what had happened, the crowd surrounded the police vehicle and requested the release of the activist in police custody. The police refused, and in the ensuing melee, a half-dozen more activists were arrested for lying down in front of the police car to block its progress. I was one of those arrested. We were taken in a police wagon to the jail in New Haven and I remember being excited and not at all scared. (Even previously on my first of many arrests for civil disobedience, the rush of it all kept me from being truly frightened.) We talked amongst ourselves, reassured each other, and developed a sense of solidarity that we would not budge until all of us were released. Not anticipating an arrest, most of us had identification on us, so it was not a question of whether we would be identified.

Meanwhile, John Boswell had contacted the president of Yale University and was negotiating for our release. Apparently the president of Yale got on the horn with the chief of New Haven police. I can only speculate that he applied pressure to avoid the embarrassment of the conference arrests becoming widely publicized by urging the chief to release us rapidly. Somehow, we were processed within hours and released with orders to appear in court on a later date. If my memory is correct, they released us without us signing any promise to appear, although I may have that part wrong. The reason I think that is that I was scheduled to continue on my trip around the world. So I wrote a letter to the judge, which I left with one of my fellow arrestees. In the letter, I explained that my pressing responsibilities for this trip prevented me from making a court appearance what I consider to be a spurious arrest that compromised the free-speech rights of the conference participant. I went merrily on my way with my travels and, to this day, I’m not sure how my case was resolved in the court. My memory is that the others had their cases dropped with no further penalty. But who knows, I may still have an outstanding warrant for my arrest in New Haven.

Two Trees

Two trees grew side by side
nourished by the same soil
their roots intertwining slowly
year after year.

Two trees who as their trunks widened grew taller and taller
shading each other from the harsh heat of the sun
sheltering each other from the harsh winds of the storms
leaves and twigs falling mixed on the ground.

Limb in limb growing
root reaching root
solid on their own
together two trees.

(For Philip.)

Enemy Combatants

We hang trial less
In Basra, Gitmo, Abu Grahib, and
Uncountable CIA prisons.
Lieutenants and privates from
Britain and the grand old USA
Order us to buttfuck and
Wear a girls’ bra or
Panties on our heads.
Bound in netting or
Suspended on a forklift,
Duct tape prevents us
From murmuring Koranic verses.
After five months in solitary,
They give us their damnedest
20 hours a day.
Helmets and camouflage,
Broomsticks and chairs,
Smash our bloody faces on walls,
Knee our kidneys.
Call us gay
Sons and brothers of whores.
Strip us naked,
Heads in each others’ crotches.
Pile us on top of each other,
Hoods numbered.
Roll us in piss and shit,
Punch, kick, and sodomize us.
Standing on boxes, handcuffed,
Shackled to prison bars,
Leashed before barking dogs.
Standing inquisitional
Black hood and shroud
Electrodes running wires attached to…
Only some soldiers’ grinning notion.
Orders from above:
Guards’ green plastic gloves,
Thumbs up!  For a
Job well done.

Copyleft (CC-by-sa) 2005 by Will Doherty

Auden’s Public and Private Faces, Normality, and Prick’s Belonging

I am reading a selection of poetry by Auden.  There are only a few poems that I like so far, particularly “Too Dear, Too Vague,” “As I Walked Out One Evening,” “Request” (part 17), “Alone,” “A More Loving One,” and some fragments were shorts, such as:

Private faces in public places
are wiser and nicer
than public faces in private places.

More from part four of “Letter to Lord Byron”:

Goddess of busy underlings, Normality!
What murders are committed in thy name!
Totalitarian is thy state Reality,
Reeking of antiseptics and the shame
Of faces that all look and feel the same.

Or from Shorts:

Babies in their mother’s arms
Exercise their budding charms
On their fingers and their toes,
Striving ever to enclose
In the circle of their will
Objects disobedient still,
But the boy comes fast enough
To the limits of self-love,
And the adult learns what small
Forces rally at his call.
Large and paramount the State
That will not co-operate
With the Duchy of his mind:
All his lifetime he will find
Swollen knee or aching tooth
Hostile to his quest for truth;
Never will his prick belong
To his world of right and wrong,
Nor its values comprehend
Who is foe and who is friend.

November 4 Election: Any Mayor But Newsom

It’s time to vote again this Tuesday, November 4. My slatecard for your delectation below.

Once again, check your polling place because it may have changed. They managed to avoid implementing instant runoff voting so that they can make it more likely that Newsom will win in a later runoff election. We have to prove them wrong by bringing out the voters in greater numbers if the runoff occurs.

As always, I’d love to hear your opinion about why you agree or disagree with my recommendations below.

That’s what democracy looks like!

Peace,

Will
——-
Will’s November 4 Election Slatecard

[* by the important ones]

* Mayor -> Tom Ammiano
[but most important is to vote for anyone but Newsom to keep him from getting 50%+ of the vote so that the left can unite for the runoff election to defeat Newsom, info on Newsom’s record at http://www.gruesomenewsom.org/]

* District Attorney -> Terence Hallinan

Sheriff -> Michael Hennessey

Props A – F -> I don’t feel strongly, but probably yes
Prop G -> Yes
* Prop H -> Yes [this one is important for police accountability]
Prop I -> Yes
Prop J -> Yes
Prop K -> Yes
* Prop L -> Yes [reasonable minimum wage]
* Prop M -> NO!
Prop N -> Don’t know

Nate Redux

Last Saturday, Nate agreed to meet me for lunch today. Yesterday evening, he contacted me to break off the lunch date. Well, everyone has their limits and I’ve reached mine. I won’t continue to try to talk with someone who apparently has little or no interest in me or even the simplest commitments they make with me. I suspect Nate doesn’t have the courage to confront me simply with what he feels, although he did finally say it wasn’t going to work out. He did it in a way that leaves me feeling like the cat is still playing with the mouse long after it’s expired. And now that I’m no longer responding at all, he’s sending me more messages than ever. May he find the bravery he needs to overcome his demons and acheive fulfillment.