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 born..no, 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 @ pkmorrison.livejournal.com and www.myspace.com/hermajestythelizardqueen)

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

A River May Have to Run Through It

It may take as much as that to clean up, or begin to clean up, the stinking, sodden, vile heap of manure that Shrub has unloaded into our stables.

And though I don't think Obama is Hercules (not yet, anyway), he may certainly be Jason surrounding himself with Argonauts, strong and mighty warriors eager to help: the best and brightest, just as JFK did. He's smart enough to be a really good picker.

I wept last night for the sheer history of it. I still haven't drunk the Obama Kool-aid, nor do I think he's a policy god (I haz issues with him on policy, especially women's stuff). But he has a huge, HUGE task ahead of him. I have hopes. Not unrealistic ones, either.

An old friend emailed me this morning from a red corner of PA, telling me that she and her husband, contemporaries of mine, watched in tears, thinking that this is what it might have been like in 1968 had Bobby Kennedy lived, and I had the same feeling myself: that all of us who protested and demonstrated back then have finally gotten our vindicating victory.

But we're FAR from out of the woods, my lieges. As they prepare to decamp ingloriously into obscurity, the Bushies, led by their fish-faced, mush-mouthed king, are systematically laying waste to all sorts of programs. Bitter, spiteful bastards, giving one last gift to the masters of industry and money who have supported them all this time.

And way too many vile measures passed: against same-sex marriage in California and other states, Colorado declaring that human life begins at conception (thus effectively outlawing ALL abortions), bunch more.
But California will see that bill again, and next time it will go our way...

And yes, as our warns, I will keep watchful eyes on the north, where Morgoth dwells and is undoubtedly planning another incursion into the happy lands of Middle-earth. She will withdraw into her frozen fastness and scheme anew. And, hopefully, be forced to face some truths. I myself would prefer to see her hunted from a helicopter on a regular basis... See, Mooselina? God has indeed spoken to you, and he has said NOT ON MY WATCH, BITCH!

On balance, I am one very proud and happy American today. I haven't been able to say that or feel like that for far too long. We have done a mighty deed this day in reclaiming the word "patriot" from the evil minions, and I await the happy day when the Republican Party will spasm and divide, into the thoughtful moderates of whom Lincoln could be proud and the banana-headed wacko loonies of hatred and divisiveness who are really doing the work of Satan, if you believe in Satan, and if anything would make me believe in him it's the McCainites and Palinistas who are his whores and lackeys.

So crawl back under the rock whence you came, Rethuglicans, and watch as we get on with the future. Maybe one day down the shining new road you'll actually get with the program. We'd be pleased to have you.

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