Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ and

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

That Deaf, Dumb and Blind Kid

So, Unelected President George W. Bush apparently feels he has little enough on his plate to occupy his time these days. Hey, he’s a War President! The Bring It On Dude! Mission Accomplished Man! (Yeah, maybe he’s really Tom Cruise...) He NEEDS to do stuff!

You know, I can see his point. What with his lackey Chertoff whacking NYC and Washington’s Homeland Security pittance (hey, Duh-bya, YOU live in DC! In a pretty high-profile house painted white for better visibility when seen from hijacked airplanes piloted by crazed Islamofascists! HellOOO?), an unwinnable war that he should never have been allowed to start in the first place (pissed off at YOU, Democrats!), and, oh, all sorts of other minor issues and policies, like NOW PROVEN global warming and remember him giving port control to the United Arab Emirates and various henchmen of his being convicted of all sorts of things and now the immigration mess and let’s not forget Robert Kennedy Jr. and his Rolling Stone story of how the elections were stolen to begin with—he clearly DOESN'T have much to do to keep himself awake, does he.

Just puny little things, these, really. Not worthy of his limited attention and even more limited available brain cells. So of course he needs a REAL challenge to get behind in a manly-man-President fashion. Like a new Constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage.

That’s the ONLY explanation I can imagine for his all of a sudden hoisting himself back on the anti-gay-marriage bandwagon. Somehow, in the tiny, dusty, mouse-ridden attics of what it pleases him to call his mind, he, or a little brainmouse scurrying madly about, has decided that now is the day and now is the hour for him to renew his campaign to get discrimination officially written into our Constitution.

The mind boggles. Well, at least it does within the skulls of those of us who actually HAVE minds. Consider how the divorce rate among heterosexual married couples shows this country's respect for the married state. And we all KNOW those gay boys and girls haven't got the solid family values of, say, a weasel Yalie or a redneck wifebeater (man, not t-shirt) or a just-convicted corporate greedbag.

And how do we know this? Because Pat Robertson and his icky ilk tell us so, of course. Claiming that God tells them. Well, God tells me very different. God tells me it Makes Him/Her/It/Them ABSOLUTELY DIVINE GUT-PUKING SICK.

No, Duh is just doing it to kiss the dimpled pink butts of all the wackjob neocons and evangelicals he sold his soul to. Well, what pitifully skimpy soul he had, anyway. He doesn't seem to grasp the point that his party will suffer grievously for it, or maybe he just doesn't care. Midterm elections coming up? Hey, doesn't faze HIM, HE's not running!

I’ve given up hope of him suddenly coming to SOME senses (that WOULD be a miracle), but does no one around him have the brains God gave a goat? To grab his collar and pull him from the brink of his own stupidities? Or is it all the other way, and they’re all secretly drunk and stoned and giggling in their manly little clubhouse in the White House basement: “Hey, let’s see what we can make him do NOW!”

You know, I can't even LOOK at him when he's on TV. That blank-eyed stare and demented little half-smile tell me he's been taken over by either Scientologists or Qlippoth (look it up...look both up, actually). Or else he really is the pod person he's always, come to think of it, seemed.

I say let’s start a campaign for rich white WASP boys with minimal brains and overindulgent parents and suckup friends who carry him through every situation to not be allowed to marry. It’s an affront to gods and humanity that they can insult the sacred state of marriage so. It must be stopped! It must be made law of the land!

In fact, it should be part of the Constitution.


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