I was just sitting on the toilet, shitting (I love the verb "shit", it's almost onomatopeic) and thinking. My aunt died yesterday, my dad's sister. I've been at home since Monday to help out my family while she was in the hospital. Here comes the metaphor: our lives are like the progress of food through the body. The body of the metaphor is the world around us, which we nourish (or not, like a Twinkie) during our lives. The type of nourishment we provide depends on the nature of who we Are, and in the end (the rear end!) it all comes out the same. The bodyworld carries on, grows, dances, and moves, nourished by the slice of apple, the bite of chocolate cake, the swig of whiskey, and the "hull" or "chaff" comes out the other end, mixed in as one with everything else, indistinguishable (usually, except for unchewed raisins), and goes back to the Earth to compost and nourish new growth.

So how do I want my life to nourish the world? I want to be a veggie stir-fry over rice (with chick peas so it's a complete protein), with a hit of Ecstacy mixed in for some much needed world-altering experiences.

You wrote to me awhile ago asking what life here is like. Well, today it's beautiful! We've had a few warm days in a row, and people are weaving hammocks outside in the sun, and playing with kids in the grass... I spent the morning hanging out with a friend up on one of our further out cow pastures. We made pancakes for breakfast and had a picnic all morning. Then we jumped in the pond -- which is still FREEZING COLD, but refreshing nonetheless.

Life here is different for each person, obviously. I like to work in chunks -- long days of 9 or 10 hours of work, and then short days where I only work a few hours. People here tend to do lots of different jobs throughout the course of the day, so someone might weave hammocks for an hour or two, then have a garden shift in the afternoon, than do childcare for a few hours before dinner. Today I've spent most of the afternoon on the computer, catching up with my email before I leave on a trip. I've accumulated a "vacation balance" of labor credits by working overquota a lot, so I'm taking a week off to go visit my family.

We eat food that we've grown in our garden, and we buy things like rice and sugar and pasta and chocolate. We have conventional washing machines, and most people dry their laundry on clotheslines (I can see them out the window right now). Each person has their own bedroom, and anywhere between 10 and 17 people share a residence (we have 8 residence buildings right now). There's usually a hackey sack circle after lunch and dinner when the weather is nice, and there's a group of folks who play Scrabble every week. There are 3 movies shown every weekend, and we don't have network television at all. We have abundant fruit trees in the spring and early summer... plums, apples, mulberries, paupaws. The kids walk around with their faces smeared with purple mulberry juice. The father of one of our blonde toddlers dyed his hair purple with mulberries last year.

People here tend to be highly opinionated, and we have raging debates about seemingly small issues. Life here can be stressful, and exciting, and frustrating, and extraordinary. Winters are hard, summers are fun. There are times when there's a lot of conflict, and times when things are running smoothly. It's not Utopia, and I love the life I have here.

in revolution and joy, tickled spirit

I'm watching a wasp in the window. It's on the inside, trying to get out. I could help it. I could find some container, catch the wasp, and transport it outside. But I'm in a back room that's rather far from a door, and I'm wondering if it's worth it. To me, to the wasp, to the ultimate universe. And it's chilly outside -- would the wasp prefer to stay indoors? It's trying to get out the window, but it doesn't know how cold it is outside. And yet, to be trapped indoors, with no access to the outside, no choice about whether to be out or in... I'd rather be cold and free than trapped and warm. What does the wasp prefer? Security or freedom?

And if the wasp prefers freedom, do I have a responsibility to provide it, based on my ability to provide it? What if it stings me while I'm trying to catch it, not knowing that I'm trying to help it?

Who am I to think I know what the wasp wants?

Don't we all want freedom?

Don't we?

"Sweet Valley High prom fuck"

I come in at number 4 on Google.

1)Willy Wonka and the Tofu Factory

The main script rewrite we did (besides making chocolate into tofu -- the chocolate river became a soymilk river, etc) was that Slugworth, instead of being a rival candy maker, was a union organizer. When each child won a golden ticket, he snuck up to them and gave them pamphlets to slip to the Oompa Loompas to tell them how to organize for better working conditions. A major thruline in the show was about how horribly Wonka treated the migrant workers. One Oompa Loompa (who we nicknamed the "Woody Guthrie Oompa Loompa") rushed onstage after each traditional Loompa song ("I've got another puzzle for you") to sing "Sixteen Tons" and other labor songs. The following scene is where Charlie gets separated from the others, and instead of drinking Fizzy Lifting Drink, he passes the pamplets out to the workers.

Woody Guthrie OL: Listen kid, don't believe everything that Mr. Wonka shows you and tells you today. The life of an Oompa Loompa isn't all swimming in soymilk rivers and feasting on okara patties! That man Wonka works us like dogs-- orders us around seven days a week, no vacations, no sick pay-- and we don't even get to eat the good stuff, just the "seconds" he can't sell, or whatever experimental batch he's working on. I bet you anything he's not going to show you our living quarters, or tell you what he does with us Oompa Loompas when we're injured or too old to keep working.

CHARLIE: Too old? I hadn't thought of that? What does he do?

WGOL: Kid, you don't even want to know. Let me tell you something:

Oompa Loompas:
IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE FOR US
IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE FOR US
'STEADA SOYMILK, WE GET CURDS
'STEADA SECONDS, WE GET THIRDS
IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE

CHARLIE: Gosh that sounds terrible! I never realized things were so hard for you Oompa Loompas What can you do about it?

WGOL: I wish I knew. Back in Loompaland, our lives were hard, but at least we were free. It seems like exploitation and toil is the only life an Oompa Loompa will ever know.

CHARLIE: Have any of you ever heard of Slugworth? Or the International Association of Soy Schleppers? Here, take these pamplets. I've got to get back to the rest of the group before they realize I've been gone.

When Wonka gives the factory over to Charlie, Charlie signs the contract first, and then tells Wonka that she's going to let the Oompa Loompas form a union. Then...

CHARLIE: First thing, I want you to meet your new director of Oompa Loompa relations. Come on out, Mr. Slugworth

WONKA: Slugworth?! Noooooo!

SLUGWORTH: (entering with some cheering Oompa Loompas) That's right, Willy Wonka. You thought you had seen the last of me back in the great strike of '98, when you called out the national guard to break up our picket line! You wouldn't meet our demands back then, but the rising tide of worker power can't be stopped that easily.

OL#1: You have oppressed us for far too long, Wonka!

OL#2: We demand reparation above and beyond our basic rights to organize and take vacations!

OL#3: Just starting a union isn’t enough!

OL#4: For all the hell you’ve put us through, this factory should belong to us!

CHARLIE: Mr. Wonka, I don't know how to make tofu the way you do. There's no point in giving the factory to me. This tofu factory should go to the workers, who know what it's like to toil all day in the hot steam, the ones who start the kettle before dawn and load the trucks long past midnight. This factory should belong to the Oompa Loompas, and I'm giving it to them! (hands them the contract)

(OL’s, Slugworth cheer! Wonka is devestated)

WONKA: Charlie, I never saw it that way (To OL’s) Oh, I’ve been so wicked! What can I do to make it up to you?

OL: (hands Wonka a metal scrubby) Start scrubbing, Wonka!

OL: Clean that kettle, kid!

Everyone:
IF YOU WANT A WORKER'S PARADISE
SIMPLY RISE UP AND TAKE IT
ANYTHING YOU NEED, JUST MAKE IT
WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD
FIRST YOU MUST BREAK IT

THERE IS NO JOB I KNOW
TO COMPARE WITH A WORKER-OWNED COOPERATIVE
WORKING THERE
YOU'LL BE FREE
IF YOU TRULY WISH TO BE

THE END

pictures coming soon to the Twin Oaks website

that's enough for now. You know, you never want to eat too much after fasting. I don't want to over stimulate your system with too much to digest after not hearing anything from me for such a long time. Chew on this for awhile, and I'll post #s 2 and 3 in the coming days.

that's right, it's Willy Wonka and the Tofu Factory, coming to a commune near you!

I wrote about this a bit when we first started rewriting the script, back in December. I play Veruca Salt (the spoiled brat), and Hejira plays Charlie's mom. Dress rehearsal was tonight and we're all pretty burned out. I'm only writing now because I think i'm still thinking too much to sleep, so I have to lull my brain into neutral by staring at a computer screen. WahWahWahWah (computer screen lulling noises)

I have a post that I started to write many days ago, then didn't get to finish because I had something else to do. It's deep and philosophical and as yet unfinished... so just know that it's coming. Don't give up on me yet. I'm just trying to direct and act in an enormous chaotic musical right now. It all ends on Friday. Then you'll have me back.

it seems like the issue of gay marriage is wrapped around the "rights" that married life allows. What if the govt got out of the marriage business altogether, and instead ALL couples (or triads, or...) applied for "partnership status", which would then be the basis for hospital visitations, etc. It's silly to make a distinction that hetero couples can be "married" and homo couples can have "domestic partnership". It's ALL partnership, and it's not up to the govt to decide who can have it and who can't.

I was reading Margaret Cho's blog response to Bush's statement on gay marriage, and these thoughts began bubbling up inside me. I'm turning up the heat to see what they look like at a full boil, and I'm going to do it right here on my blog. Watch out. Boiling water can burn.

Cho uses the word "freedom" alot in her rant about gay marriage. She asserts that gay marriage needs to be recognized by the government in order to ensure freedom. If we really seek freedom, we aren't going to get it from the government.

I get that the government grants specific rights and priviledges based on the legal institution of marriage, and that limiting those rights based on sexual orientation is fucked up and homophobic. What are "rights" anyway? Gracious handouts from Big Brother? If I want to live free, I can only do it. I can't ask for permission. I don't want whatever rights would come from being married or having a special tax status. Asking for rights from the government is saying "please oh please, let me participate in your oppression!" Any form of governance that isn't based in direct participation is oppressive. "We'll decide what you can do, ask permission for anything else." No. I don't agree. I acknowledge my responsibility for the ways that I impact the lives of those around me. I'm willing to make agreements with other people about the things that I do that affect them, and we can collectively negotiate ways of living that honor all of our needs. My choices are then based on my understanding of other people's needs, not fear of punishment. Yes, that's key for me. That I choose how I want to participate in the world based on awareness and compassion and knowledge, instead of fear. Why do you follow the speed limit? So you won't crash your car? No, so you won't get a ticket. Bullshit.

I drank a cup of coffee this morning. Yikes. Caffine really stimulates. Watch out world -- caffine-hyped anarchist on the loose.

Calculate your ecological footprint: myfootprint.org

The average American's lifestyle ("average" meaning "everyone's added up and divided by the number of people" -- not "normal") requires 24 acres of land per person.  If everyone lived like that, we'd need at least 3 planets.

My footprint, based on my life right now, is 3 acres.  If I ate meat, and nothing else in my life was changed, I'd need two more acres to sustain my lifestyle.  This isn't meant to be preachy... I'm just fascinated.