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)

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Hate Reign O'er Them

From the NYTimes Magazine:

http://ethicist.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/24/is-it-ok-to-blog-about-this-woman-anonymously/


An interesting discussion. Having had more than my fair share of anonymous bile directed my way, I can certainly relate to the issue.

Just because you happen to be a public figure should NOT mean it's open season on you for every hating, mentally deficient, deeply disturbed wacko who walks the earth (with knuckles grazing the ground).

It's easy for people to say Oh, grow a tougher skin, don't take it personally, but, you know, that's really hard to do when the attcks are ABSOLUTELY aimed at you personally. If you haven't experienced this kind of thing yourself, STFU. You know not whereof you speak.

Civil discourse may never have been a possibility on the Internet from the start, as opportunities for malice and toxicity are afforded these days to an extent never dreamed by the poison-pen letter writers of old.

Sucks.

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