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, October 17, 2006

Fault Lines

The Catholic Cardinal of New York, one John Egan, was last week the recipient of an anonymous letter from some of his priests taking him to task for trying to be a medieval prince-prelate running a corrupt feudal state out of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

Well, you can just imagine how much this pleased me. Oooh, shades of Thomas à Becket and meddlesome priests! The wisely anonymous clerics charged their remote and distanced cardinal-archbishop with many spiritual infractions, calling him “vindictive,” “arrogant” and “cruel”, more concerned with the financial diocesan bottom line he was appointed to fix than his pastoral concerns. True, he must step down at his 75th birthday next May, according to papal regulations, but in the meantime he must be endured.

His master Benedict’s recent dealings with Islam pale beside Egan’s personal dealings with the flock he vowed before God to protect. Not to mention his deals with pervert priests, child molesters well known to him, whom he has consistently protected in the face of public outrage.

How ’bout the fact that they’re committing SINS, Egan, these spoiled priestlings of yours? Sins against the innocent. That’s even worse than Mark Foley and Dennis Hastert combined: pedophilia plus sexual harassment topped off with Catholic guilt and intimidation.
And by covering up, red hat boy, YOU are committing a sin. Or has the Catholic Church turned its legendarily selective blind eye in that direction as well, and in its hopefully terminal arrogance decided that the Lord and God they claim to serve will give them a pass?

Man, I say two thousand years of this crap is long enough. Let the walls of the Vatican crumble the way the Berlin Wall did. Air and light and freedom are on the other side. Thank all gods at least some priests (and faithful) can get a glimpse of it.


In a sort of related matter, yesterday a benighted and perversely unaccountable judge here in New York gave a terrorist sympathizer traitor lawyer 28 months in jail instead of the 30 years she should have gotten. Or the firing squad I’d have put her in front of for treason, had I had the judicial power.

Her grinning mug was all over the papers this morning, making us all sick. Lynne Stewart helped the abominable terror sheik Omar Abdel-Rahman smuggle secret messages out of his jail cell to his Al Qaeda masters, messages that might have contained orders to further his declared agenda of blowing up NYC landmarks and assassinating the president of Egypt. He was convicted, and so was she: rightly convicted of aiding and abetting her guilty-as-sin client by abusing her lawyerly position of trust. She gave him substantial and material assistance in his heinous actions, his CRIMES, and she should be not only disbarred and jailed but tarred and feathered at the least.

Yet when it came time for sentencing, this marshmallow judge apparently bought into Stewart’s tearful whiny pleas that she was too old to go to jail, she’d die in prison, don’t separate her from her family. Bitch should have thought of that sooner. BEFORE she got into bed with jihadists. She raved and ranted against the “system” for years, yet now is cynically happy to take advantage of its shortsighted idiocy. Just having to endure the sight of her broad, smirking, triumphant porcine countenance is an affront and a revulsion, and the knowledge that she’ll do so little time for this is almost beyond belief.


Oh, and I experienced my usual “earthquake early warning morning sickness” nausea before the big Hawaiian quake of day before yesterday. Just as I was writing about here the other day, right before it happened.

It’s so pointless: it’s not useful or warning or geographically specific or anything. It would never serve as grounds for a life-saving evacuation, for instance, which could be REALLY useful. No, it just lets me say “Oh, yes, going to be an earthquake, well, all righty then.”
And there generally is. It doesn’t happen before EVERY quake (and I’d like to know what it means by it, and why it doesn’t), but every time it does happen there’s a big, biiiig seismic event, within twenty-four hours or so.

I think it’s somehow connected with the earth’s electromagnetic field, like those Mensa map dowsers I was telling you about the other day, or like animals who can sense the EMF and use it to navigate. Selfishly, it’s nice to feel connected to Gaia in even so small a way as that. But I just wish it could be helpful for lives.


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