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[asimplegoddess]

Thank you so much for this update. I knew she had been ill for a very long time and I had been thinking about her a lot lately. One of her books kept popping up in so many places I traveled online, it was kind of odd. Sending love to her and her family as she makes this transition.

My friend the brilliant author Rachel Pollack is coming to the end of her life. She won the Nebula, World Fantasy and Arthur C Clarke awards. She is a world renowned expert on Tarot, and her books on Tarot are still regarded as the gold standard. She created the first trans superhero, in Doom Patrol in '93. I will miss her very much when she goes. I am writing this at the request of her wife Zoe, to let her friends know that the end is soon, and to let the obituarists know too. (I saw her yesterday and hope to see her again before the end.)

[asimplegoddess]

late stage symptoms of a decaying democracy

[asimplegoddess]

I literally do not care what the Bible says about any political issue. I am not Christian. Christian scripture should have zero effect on my life or my personal freedoms. 

[asimplegoddess]

The following is written by David Gamble Jr of Reno, Nevada. It was posted on his Facebook page on June 13, 2020. Original post here.

~~~~~

I grew up in Reno, Nevada.

In third grade a boy confidently tells me and my brother that his mom said black people cannot swim because our muscles are different than those of white people.

In middle school, standing among a group of white classmates talking video games, I am the only black child. One classmate expresses surprise that my family has enough money to afford a PlayStation.

In high school, I am the only black kid among a group of friends. When sharing drinks in my presence they frequently tell each other not to “niggerlip” the bottles. Even though I object, they continue to use the phrase.

In high school, my brother is at a teen house party that gets broken up by police, a common occurrence. The kids at the party scatter, also a common occurrence. My brother, the only black child in attendance, is the only one on whom a police officer draws a firearm to get him to stop running away. He is 14.

 In high school, a group of my white friends frequently sneak on to the outdoor basketball courts at an athletic club to play. They can usually play for hours, including with club members. On the two occasions I attend, club members complain and we are ejected from the club within minutes.

In high school, I am excited about black history month and am talking to a friend about black inventors. My friend snorts and says, “Black people have never invented anything.”

In high school, as graduation approaches, many of my white friends tell me that I am lucky. They tell me that due to my skin color, I will get into any college I want.

I remain in Reno for college.

During college an employer keeps food for employees in the break room refrigerator. One morning I decided to have microwaveable chicken wings for breakfast. The employer tells me I might not want to eat that for breakfast with my skin color. The employer immediately apologizes.

In college I am standing in a group of white friends on campus. A white acquaintance of one of my friends approaches to chat. The acquaintance tells a story about something that frustrated him and then reels off a series of expletives ending with the word, “nigger.” None of my friends corrects him.

In college I visit an antique shop in Auburn, California with my girlfriend, who is white, and her parents. The shopkeeper follows me around the store whistling loudly as I browse, until we leave.

I move to San Diego, California for law school.

In law school, during a discussion in my criminal law class, a white classmate suggests that police officers should take a suspect’s race into account when determining whether there is reasonable suspicion to believe that an individual is committing a crime.

The weekend of my law school graduation my family comes to San Diego. I go to the mall with my brother and sister and visit the Burberry store. Two different employees follow us around the store – never speaking to us – until we leave.

After law school, I return to Reno.

A co-worker jokingly calls me “King David” upon seeing me each day. I joke that I’m not treated like a king. The co-worker then begins to call me “Slave David” each time we encounter one another. When I ask the co-worker to stop because it is hurtful, I am told by my co-worker that this is a problem that I have in my head.

I attend a pub crawl with friends. We end up at a party in a hotel suite in downtown Reno. I am greeted by a white man at the door who loudly expresses surprise that I am an “educated negro” upon hearing me speak.

I walk a friend who is a white woman from a restaurant to her car because it is night time. As we stand by the car chatting, a police officer pulls up and shines a light on us, asking if everything is okay. Once my friend confirms, the officer drives away. I tell her that he was worried about her, she teasingly says, “Oh yeah, because you’re so scary.” Later, I tell another white friend I felt racially profiled by the officer. My friend shrugs and says, “I don’t know man, that’s a stretch.”

A white friend tells me that white voters have become upset at black people because of black people’s liberal use of food welfare benefits. When I point out that more whites than blacks receive welfare benefits in the U.S., my friend expresses confusion at how that could be the case.

I leave a downtown restaurant with my wife. As we walk along the river a homeless man appears to be having a schizophrenic episode, engaging auditory hallucinations. Upon seeing me, he becomes lucid and begins to shout the word “nigger” over and over.

I discover that one of my clients does not want me to represent him as his Public Defender because he does not want a black attorney. I am given the option to withdraw as counsel. I do not.

Last year, I am at a barbecue chatting with a white acquaintance who asks if I have ever experienced racism. When I say it is a nearly daily occurrence, the acquaintance retorts, without missing a beat, “Bullshit.”

Two months ago. I am driving to lunch with the black teen I mentor. At a red light a white woman crosses the street. As I begin to drive, she turns around and screams at us, “F**k you f****ing nigger!”

Before any of these instances, my family of origin moved to Reno, Nevada from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1984.

My mother recently told me that when I was a very young child my parents hired a company to remove a tree from our front lawn. Two white men showed up and removed the tree. One of them carved a swastika into the stump. My father had to  confront him and ask him to remove it.

Before that, my now 93 -year-old grandfather served in the Army National Guard and was stationed in the U.S. south. Despite being active duty, he was not allowed to eat in restaurants due to “whites only” signage. He had to wait for fellow Guardsmen to bring him food outside.

Not long before that, my family were slaves, owned by Americans of English and Irish descent, which is why – despite being primarily of African descent – I have an English last name.

This is my experience of being black in America. To be black in America is to be told over and over that you are not good enough, that you do not belong, that you are genetically unfit, that your physical presence is undesirable, and that everything about you – right down to your lips – is wrong. It is absolutely true that everyone experiences hardships in life, but the psychological weight of being told both explicitly and implicitly, on a daily basis, that your very existence is objectionable can at times feel unbearable.

And despite this experience, I still love my country, my state, and my city. Despite my experience, I would not choose to be anything other than a black American. The history of black people in this country is one of struggle and triumph. Our people were brought to this country as slaves and against all odds, in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, have made our mark. Through slavery, poll taxes, literacy tests, redlining, and black codes we have persevered. Through the unspeakable horrors of mass lynchings; the Tuskegee syphilis experiments; and the massacres at Tulsa and Rosewood, we have persevered.

Bass Reeves, Dovey Johnson Roundtree, Sarah Boone, Oscar Micheaux, Shirley Chisholm, Dorie Miller, Susie King Taylor, Georgia Gilmore, Octavius Catto, Jack Johnson, Garrett Morgan, James W.C. Pennington. These are just a handful of extraordinary and oft forgotten black Americans who helped to mold and preserve the American Dream. These individuals and their accomplishments should not be regarded as “black history,” but rather as American history.

I am an American of privilege, which makes me an African American of great privilege. I am an attorney. I live in a safe neighborhood. My children do not worry about their next meal. I can afford child care. My family can afford personal vehicles. If my children become sick, I can take them to the doctor. If I am this privileged, and these have been my experiences, primarily in my own hometown, often with friends and acquaintances who are fond of me, and of whom I remain fond even now; just imagine what daily life must be like for a black person in this country who does not enjoy my level of privilege.

The protests in the streets of America are certainly about the killing of George Floyd, but not just about George Floyd. They are about countless black men, women, and children for whom the punishment did not fit the crime – if indeed there was a crime at all. We live in a country where, in order to recall what life under Jim Crow felt like, many white Americans must pick up a history book. Meanwhile, many black Americans need only pick up a telephone, and call their parents.

When we as people of color share our experiences, we are not doing so to score political points, “play the race card,” get sympathy, assign blame, or to make you feel bad about yourself. We are asking you for help. We are asking you to join us in the ongoing fight against racism in our country, because we cannot do it alone. It will take Americans of every stripe to eradicate racism from American society.

I am now asking for your help. Please seek truth and knowledge. When sharing information, please check your sources and make sure that they are reliable. Try to place what is happening today into a historical context. Read about systemic racism and anti-racism. When your friends of color tell you that racism is real and affecting their lives, believe them and then, if you can, do something about it.

My children are likely to attend the same middle school and high school that I did. It is my great hope for them that those around them have the knowledge, compassion, and guidance to know better than to daily deluge them with words that make them doubt their intelligence, their beauty, and their worth as human beings based only on the color of their skin; and instead judge them by the content of their character.

It is for all of the above reasons, and so many more that we proudly say #blacklivesmatter

 ~~~~~~~

[asimplegoddess]

I agree with every word of this post. I use all three terms too.

I just want to clarify ...

For anyone who saw my recent plans for the upcoming Summer Solstice and felt the need to be critical, allow me to clarify my perspective.

Yes, I referred to Summer Solstice as "aka Litha, aka Midsummer" in my post. And I, like the previous 2 years, tagged my plans with all 3 labels or terms.

With that said, I am fully aware that these 3 things are not exactly the same. I am not new to astrophysics nor cultural appreciation. I know the Summer Solstice marks an astronomical event. I know Litha isn't an ancient practice. And I know that Midsummer is a cultural celebration.

So why do I refer to them with the "aka" moniker?

Because I am also aware that the 3 are interconnected and that connection is what matters most to me. My practice (or craft, if you will) is predicated on the ties that bind us and the interconnection across generations, cultures and communities.

I recognize distinction and the importance of differentiating when discussing these topics specifically. However, from a spiritual perspective, the Solstice is the astronomical phenomenon that led to the creation of Litha and Midsummer, among other celebrations in cultures around the world.

I'm not attempting to redefine these terms, nor convince or confuse anyone who only wants to celebrate only one of them. I see and value the connection they all share and plan to honor the general period in which they all take place in recognition of how we are all impacted by the brilliance of nature both on Earth and in the cosmos.

That is how I approach my practice. My craft is not your craft. Your craft is not mine. Feel free to take from my plans what works for you or scroll past them altogether.

I will continue to focus on this connection, among others, and I will continue to tag my posts on this topic the same way I have in the past. If it bothers some, I accept that.

Thank you for reading, and have a great rest of your day.

[asimplegoddess]

I'm looking forward to the upcoming summer solstice (June 21, 2022)!

I'll make Sun-shaped cookies (not sure which flavor yet), icy orange blossom & mint lemonade, fresh blueberries, and some little sandwiches for my picnic. It's supposed to very hot and sunny outside that day, so I won't be out too long (I might just do this in my backyard).

I'll set up my altar, journal, and meditate with my candles at sunrise ☀️.

[asimplegoddess]

Hello old blog, mind if I dust you off?

I am an atheist witch, a solo practitioner. I believe in magic, but I don’t believe in astrology. To each her own. I love to learn about traditions and mythology. Right now I favor English and Irish/Celtic/Gaelic (my mother’s side) but I am slowly expanding out to my father’s cultural history in the segregated Black parts of Alabama, Birmingham to be specific. I am a novice witch, I first dipped my foot in during the summer of 2019, inspired by a TV show about a witch and a vampire. I didn’t realize how large the global community of witches really is until later that year.

Find me on twitter here and on Instagram here.

Those two accounts, like this blog going forward, focus on my fondness for magic, witchcraft, fountain pens/planners/notebooks/paper, and tea. Lots of tea. Don’t talk to me until I’ve had two mugs of strong black tea.

[asimplegoddess]

[asimplegoddess]

One of the vital lessons I learned as an undercover CIA officer, and later as an adviser to Republicans in Congress, was how corrupt leaders escalate their abuses of power at the expense of their citizens’ freedom while trying to retain power. It motivated my service at the time and continues to drive my work to protect and improve American democracy now. It also informs my grave concern about recent reporting that President Donald Trump and his personal attorney, Rudy Giuliani, pressured the government of Ukraine to help them dig up dirt on Trump’s primary political rival, former Vice President Joe Biden and his son.

McMullin: Trump’s alleged pressure on Ukraine shows growing danger (via wilwheaton)

[asimplegoddess]

In loving memory of John McCain, here are some of his proudest achievements:

Violating the Geneva Convention to bomb a lightbulb factory in Vietnam

Snubbed the Vietnamese peasant who saved his life after he crashed his plane in Vietnam while violating the mentioned Geneva Convention

Supporting legislation to forcefully relocate native American populations Calling Vietnamese people “g**ks” Using his power as a senator to help the Lincoln Savings and Loan Association swindle the life savings of tax payers in one of the biggest political scandals in American history as a member of the Keating Five

Singing that we should “bomb bomb bomb Iran” because he thought calling for support of the murder of millions of innocents was something funny.

Calling people “low life scum” who were protesting Henry Kissinger, a notorious American war criminal who played a role in the US-backed overthrow of the democratically elected president of Chile, Salvador Allende, and his replacement with the fascist Augusto Pinochet, who became known for tossing political dissidents out of helicopters.

Calling for war and/or supporting war in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Libya, West and Central Africa, Iran, Bosnia and Kosovo, Ukraine, Russia, and the DPRK.

Hanging out with neo-Nazis in Ukraine and supporting them shortly before their coup in Ukraine

Later hanging out with neo-Nazis again and holding a “good meeting” with them

Returned to congress while sick from cancer and receiving treatment for it on his free state-funded healthcare in order to make sure that poor people don’t get to have healthcare

[asimplegoddess]

listen i kno we all have a giggle at people from ye olden times for believing in the four humors and bloodletting and shit like that but there are adults in this year of our lord 2018 who deadass believe there are Toxins in their body that can be released by drinking juice

[asimplegoddess]

Reblog if you too would buy an entire hotel just to get back at the whites who wouldn’t let you and your family check in 💁🏻

[asimplegoddess]

Source

Stands for a song, but puts the flag on the ground and sits on it. Gee, how disrespectful to our country and our troops, right?

[asimplegoddess]

World Mental Health Day

Today is World Mental Health Day. It's okay to realize that something in your brain isn't quite right. It's okay to feel that something about your emotional health isn't quite right. It's okay to say this event in my life affected me in some way. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to journal, paint, draw, dance, jog, write, sing, listen to music, hang out at a coffee shop, hug a tree, sit in the park, or do something/anything to get a handle on all of this and make yourself feel better. It's okay to hide in your pillow fort sometimes. It's okay to take steps for self care (but please no self harm). It is not okay to stay silent. It is not okay to deny yourself a path to wellness, whatever your definition of wellness looks like. You don't have to tell anyone you know, there are so many resources out there, anonymous or otherwise. Whatever you do, please do something, because you really do deserve better, even if you have a very hard time convincing yourself of that.  (Written by me, asimplegoddess, not anyone else).

[asimplegoddess]

It’s a breezy summer day and the rustling from the leaves outside sound like whispers from my small apartment. I’m sitting in front of my laptop, silently studying the 1.6 billion faces speaking simultaneously in front of me. It’s Monday, the day of the weekly conference call between all Muslims. We have been required to attend this Skype meeting from the the tender age of fetus, but I had never spoken in one of them before. 

That changes today. 

“Hey guys, what if…” I start to say. 

Nobody hears me, but I refuse to be silent. How could I show my face again on Tumblr if I couldn’t even save my mayonnaise friends from death? How could I expect to earn their respect? Anon was right; why hadn’t I done this before? Thousands of lives had paid the price for my ignorance, but not anymore.

“What if you guys….. stopped killing people.“ 

Suddenly, silence. 

1,643,398,023 pairs of eyes are on me. My heart is in my throat as the ISIS leader gives me a blank expression. 

A single tear rolls down my cheek. "Please.” I say with a broken voice. 

He is moved. 

“Aight”.

[asimplegoddess]

This is the America I live in. Not the America Trump is trying to create. Resist.

(thank you Chicago Tribune and Nuccio DiNuzzo)

[asimplegoddess]

Warsan Shire, “Home”

no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark you only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you breath bloody in their throats the boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory is holding a gun bigger than his body you only leave home when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you fire under feet hot blood in your belly it’s not something you ever thought of doing until the blade burnt threats into your neck and even then you carried the anthem under your breath only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets sobbing as each mouthful of paper made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand, that no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land no one burns their palms under trains beneath carriages no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled means something more than journey. no one crawls under fences no one wants to be beaten pitied

no one chooses refugee camps or strip searches where your body is left aching or prison, because prison is safer than a city of fire and one prison guard in the night is better than a truckload of men who look like your father no one could take it no one could stomach it no one skin would be tough enough

the go home blacks refugees dirty immigrants asylum seekers sucking our country dry niggers with their hands out they smell strange savage messed up their country and now they want to mess ours up how do the words the dirty looks roll off your backs maybe because the blow is softer than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender than fourteen men between your legs or the insults are easier to swallow than rubble than bone than your child body in pieces. i want to go home, but home is the mouth of a shark home is the barrel of the gun and no one would leave home unless home chased you to the shore unless home told you to quicken your legs leave your clothes behind crawl through the desert wade through the oceans drown save be hunger beg forget pride your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear saying- leave, run away from me now i dont know what i’ve become but i know that anywhere is safer than here