Archive for June, 2009

As usual, not all names are fully released, for instance I do not have full information on two German soldiers killed in Afghanistan.  But also as usual, my sympathies to all those grieving for fallen loved ones!

The following Danish soldiers died in Afghanistan on 17 June as a result of a roadside bomb exploding by their vehicle, it took this long for me to find all the names.

Pvt. Mads Lerche Rasmussen, 21

Pvt. Andreas Sogaard Brohus, 26

Pvt. Martin Abildgaard, 23

U.S. Army Spc. Joshua L. Hazlewood, 22, of Manvel, Texas, died  in Arifjan, Kuwait, of injuries sustained from a non-combat related incident.

1st Lt. Brian N. Bradshaw, 24, of Steilacoom, Wash., died  in Afghanistan, of wounds suffered when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

Spc. Casey L. Hills, 23, of Salem, Illinois, died in Iraq of injuries sustained during a vehicle roll-over.

U.S. Army  Pfc. Peter K. Cross, 20, of Saginaw, Texas, died inAfghanistan, of injuries sustained during a vehicle roll-over.

Pvt. Steven T. Drees, 19, of Peshtigo, Wis., died June 28 at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, in Landstuhl, Germany, of injuries sustained June 24 in Afghanistan when his unit came under hostile fire with small arms and RPGs.

In addition, three German soldiers died in Afghanistan this week, but I do not have the last names  for two of them yet.

The third was Pvt Oleg Meiling, 21.  They died as a result of enemy fire.

My son has been out of state.  He is on his way home.  He stops at rest stops and had to call me yesterday from one, sputtering with fury.

In front of the main section of parking in the rest stop, a young man stood with a sign.  A man in maybe his 30’s.  His sign said “Disabled Navy Veteran – please help.”  He didn’t approach people, he simply stood.  Cars pulled in to park in front of him.  Cars with yellow ribbons stuck on them with the cheesy over-done “support the troops” message.

And those cars paused, engine running, and then pulled back OUT and moved down the long lot to park further away from the Navy veteran forced into public begging by this nation’s abyssmal record of “supporting” its thrown-away, used and abused troops.

All of you asshats who can’t pony up a bit of change and who don’t even have the guts to face this man and at least say “Sorry, strapped and tapped, can’t help…but thank you for serving and sorry for your troubles.” can go fuck yourselves, ok?

And no, do not give me any bullshit about “Well, he probably is lying and not a vet.” or “Well, he’d just use it to drink or drug.”   Because this old Kantian bitch will tell you—it isn’t about what that down and out man would do or why he does it.  It is about what YOU do or do not do; error on the side of generosity and righteousness.  Or, if I see you doing the nothing you do, I may just shove that magnetic yellow ribbon up your ass.

A dear friend visited this past week, but we didn’t take off for the hills.  Instead we planned short day trips or half day trips.  And it was a delight.  We went to a favorite park with a small conservatory full of orchids.  We wandered the heavily Chihouli’d downtown environs of Tacoma, Washington.  We went to Seattle to do the Experience Music Project and were unmoved, until we went next door to the Science Fiction Museum which delighted us both!  Almost 15 years of online friendship and we did not know we were both sci-fi fans!  We visited Seattle’s original skyscraper–the Smith Tower which has wonderful shiny brass-bound elevators still run by human beings and they glide up to the 35th floor with such a graceful swoosh and smoothness that you want to ride all day.  On the 35th floor, just beneath the final pyramidal apartment (lucky dwellers!) that cap the tower, you can walk all round on the outside to take pictures of Seattle and the Olympic Mountains across the water.  We drove across that water to Alki Beach and had pizza at Pegasus and it was fabulous pizza!  I bought a vintage coffee cup to have morning memories of a day well spent.

We ate well, mostly here at home, but sometimes while out and about (like the unsurpassable pizza!)  He had a Nor’west Bison-burger which he was sure would sustain him for a week.  We had breakfast smoothies on the ‘in house’ days in front of the television watching comedy while I experimented with knitting patterns.  We watched hummingbirds and bumblebees in contention over custody of the foxgloves in the south garden.

On the last day, we drove to Mt. Rainier—a short trip since we live only 30 miles from our splendid volcanic snow cone.  It was an adventure for us, too because it was our first time there since the beloved old 360 degree visitor center was  demolished and a new one built.  I mourned the old building’s demise, the photographic vistas it provided were unsurpassed.  The new center is nice, has pleasant interactives that all seem a bit dumbed down to the level of third graders, but at least it is far more roomy.  It lacks the sci-fi Jetson like atmosphere of the old building and is more concrete-wood hunting lodge-ish.  Likewise, the lodge at Paradise is enlarged and braced so it no longer risks being collapsed by snowfall.  The weather was perfect, the waterfalls danced and the wildflowers were pushing through the snow to tempt us back in a month.

And last, of course, we drove him back to the airport.  A final sad hug good-bye and forlorn wave through the window…in post-911 days, of course, there is no lingering to say farewell inside.  It was sad to say good-bye, but ever so rewarding to finally meet face to face.  For, among other humorous attributes, his old screenname from AOL days meant I could finally say that this old pagan “found Jesus” at long last!

This post is public notice that our family wishes to announce that we are permanently disaffiliated with the Heathen spirituality group entitled the “Falcon Kindred.”  This is not because any of us disavow belief in or devotion to certain of the Nordic deities; far from it.

It is more a statement that we found certain racist and sexist behaviors unforgivable and that the apparent habit of considering drunken revelry and weapons in close consort at every “religious” gathering  necessary gave us considerable pause.  We found it dangerous and in some cases in possible violation of state laws.  I found their utter disregard of the reservations of members (aside from ourselves) disheartening.  The overall impression was one of arrogant presumption to ignore the members for the pleasure of the unelected and appointed for life leaders.

Behaviors observed by my son, who attended several gathers only led to more dismay.  And when rather harsh things were said about my personal intention “to destroy the Kindred” I took it as a sign of a certain paranoia, if not outright delusion.  I also, at one point in my life, left the Catholic Church—but I felt no need to destroy them, nor to make others cease in their devotions to such institution.  My need to disassociate myself from what I viewed as dangerous and addiction driven behaviors is not commentary on Heathen or Asatruar beliefs, but upon the leadership of this particular group.

We owe this group nothing, we offered them our hospitality and they responded with an arrogant attitude with regard to future hospitality and entitlements.  My views on weapons or the length of their stay, or the alcohol abuse were disregarded and my invitation permanently withdrawn.  They would quote me the Havamal with regard to how to be a good host; I would recommend they read the sections on the proper behaviors of guests.  They consider my eclecticism in religion not suitably “pure” for them; so they are spiritual racists in a sense as well as the unfortunately usual way attributed to white supremist groups.  Apparently, because I am devoted to Greek deities as well as Freyja, I am guilty of spiritual miscegenation of some sort.  I wonder if they are guilty of the same for worship of at least one god not of Nordic descent at all?  A worship my son was invited and declined to join.

Furthermore, since my son had created a website and kindly agreed to host it upon his own domain at his own personal expense, this group interpreted this as an obligation not a gift.   Below is his own letter of disaffiliation:

It is has come to my attention that certain members of the Falcon Kindred still seem to hold a personal interest in my person and in members of my family. The intent of this document is to provide the following:

1. That I did in fact leave the Falcon Kindred on my own terms and in good faith.

2. That any ‘intellectual’ properties of the Falcon Kindred were no longer in my sole possession and that the Falcon Kindred Board of Directors, in particular, the President of the Falcon Kindred, could have at any time dealt with the online face of the Falcon Kindred without my help.

3. That I no longer am obligated in any way, shape, or form to provide ANY assistance what-so-ever to any member of the Kindred. And that should I provide assistance, it is out of the kindness of my heart and not through any legal obligation.

I departed the Falcon Kindred and the Falcon Kindred Board of Directors for a variety of reasons. Chief among them were immoral and unethical behaviors which were allowed to prosper in the Kindred without rebuke from the Board of Directors or other persons in positions of leadership. These reasons are few in number, but they are of large consequence and unforgivable import—things which I have never tolerated in my life and will not tolerate now, under any guise, especially that of a religious guise.

With my departure came my full and irrevocable resignation from the IT position on the Falcon Kindred Board of Directors. Materials made for the Falcon Kindred (electronic documents, web site material, etc) were never ‘given’ to the Falcon Kindred. The copyright for these works (with a few notable exceptions) resides with the creator of said works. In other words: I created the works with the Falcon Kindred in mind, but they are STILL MY INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY. My work for the Kindred was my GIFT to them, not any obligation, nor recompensed in any way whatsoever.

The domain name, www.falconkindred.com, was never mine, and still is not mine. In fact, the domain name was never even under the control of my hosting company. Even though my hosting company provided the domain name a temporary home, neither me, nor any member of my family, nor my hosting company ever claimed ownership of the domain name. The domain name has always been registered to Troy Wisehart, through godaddy.com and it was always under his control at that internet location. If the owner of the domain name cannot figure out how to move his website to another hosting company that isn’t my problem.

Finally, when I departed the Board of Directors, I made it very clear that they would need to find another person to fill the role of Information Technology. I provided a recommendation (to which they did not listen) and told them that once I had a point of contact to work with that I would in fact give them the information they needed. However, due to some personal issues (also a point in my leaving the Kindred to begin with), I was delayed in providing information. As such my inbox filled with request after request to give them information. I was hesitant; to say the least, to allow access to my webserver to a person I barely knew. It is unexceptional to refuse access to such personal and sensitive online materials. And when I decided that I was not going to renew my server this year, I informed them that they would need to find their own hosting company. Until said company was found and an account was created there was nothing further that I could do. Again, I must reiterate, I am in NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM REQUIRED TO ASSIST THE MEMBERS OF THE FALCON KINDRED IN SETTING UP THE ONLINE FACE OF THEIR ORGANIZATION.

The above should make clear to one and all that I and any and all members of my family are not only disaffiliated from the above mentioned organization, but also permanently disaffected.

So fast a week has flown…and the names never seem to stop coming:

U.S. Army Spc. Jonathan C. O’Neill, 22, of Zephyrhills, Fla., died June 15 at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas, of wounds suffered  in  Afghanistan, when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

U.S. Army Capt. Kafele H. Sims, 32, of Los Angeles, died June 16 in Mosul, Iraq, of a non-combat related incident.  He was assigned to the 18th Engineer Brigade, Schwetzingen, Germany.

U.S. Army Sgt. 1st Class Kevin A. Dupont, 52, of Templeton, Mass., died June 17 at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas, of wounds suffered March 8 in Afghanistan, when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

U.S. Army Sgt. Joshua W. Soto, 25, of San Angelo, Texas, died  in Iraq of wounds suffered when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

U.S. Army Spc. Chancellor A. Keesling, 25, of Indianapolis, Ind., died June 19 in Baghdad, Iraq of a non-combat related incident.

U.S. Army (Nat’l Guardsmen)Sgt. Paul G. Smith, 43, of Peoria, IL.   and

Staff Sgt. Joshua A. Melton, 26, of Carlyle, IL.  died in Aghanistan as a

result of an IED detonation.

U.S. Navy Command Master Chief Jeffrey J. Garber, 43, of Hemingford, Neb. died of non-hostile causes June 20 aboard the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower in the North Arabian Sea.

Maj Sean Birchall , 33, of the United Kingdom, died in Afghanistan as a result of an IED detonation.

The following U.S. Army men were killed in Afghanistan when their unit came under indirect fire.

Sgt. Ricky D. Jones, 26, of Plantersville, Ala.

Spc. Rodrigo A. Munguia Rivas, 27, of Germantown, Md.

And with this post, the number of dead for Iraq and Afghanistan goes over 5,800 dead….so this is the latest prayer/counting strand on the central stone:

The lists go on….as I am rechecking and updating my own, going all the way back to 2001, I find myself immersed in mental images of war and all the ways men and women die.  My sympathies, more than ever, to the loved ones these beautiful men and women left behind!

I look at the pictures of the fallen, and for myself at least, take no comfort whatsoever in the idea of an afterlife—all I see is the beauty of these people taken from the world I live in here.  And I mourn as I collect the names to share with you:

For Memorial Day, Google Earth launched a special project.  I have not yet experienced it; since I think I will need quantities of Scotch to get through it and doing that first thing in the morning is discouraged.  I also have not been able to make it work even tho’ all the downloads and such are done.  I saw a bit of it on the Man’s computer and felt a mighty thirst come upon me.  Maybe by the weekend, I will get myself to go through this. (Edit: finally got it to work.  It is devastatingly effective.  You click on an icon and see a photo and information; you can go to the site of the death in Iraq or Afghanistan, or to the home town of the fallen troop. When you go to the site of the death and see a spiral shape display with icons of helmets on weapons showing deaths over the time of the war…it makes something come unwound in your head.)

But what it is, you see, is a map that opens with figures of the fallen as little icons.  You click on one and fly visually to where on the google earth map where that person lived and find the details of their death.    Since I am a computer moron and can’t even speak tech to my Tech God son to get this right, forgive the clumsy instructions:

Go here: http://www.mapthefallen.org/

You will need Google earth, of course, and a couple fancy specialized downloads.  But it is a world tour of loss, far beyond the American dead alone.

This last weekend did not go as I had originally planned.  It began well enough, with a Friday evening on the shore, watching kites, birds, sailboats and passing couples in love.  It began with sunlight splendor on the water, and plans for meeting women for a party.  But then, the unintended took over.  Friday night I tossed is a sweat-soaked bed in pain because those soft evening breezes on the beach chilled my damaged and titanium-clipped neck.  Soon, the muscle spasms spread to mid and lower back.  Saturday morning I despaired and sent my “Not coming, busy writhing.” note to friends.

I was exhausted and ate and went back to bed, still hurting.  Lying down eased the pain and I slept.  I had wild and wonderful dreams.  I woke feeling energized, if still recognizing the need to move carefully and less than usual.  I got out my bead box.  I am not the craftiest person on earth and feel artistically impaired most of the time.  But a friend’s daughter had a birthday and money being tight, I was determined to create something worthy without going broke.

I found beautiful strands of peacock colored freshwater pearls in my little chest of shiny delights.  Never used because the drill holes in these pearls were so tiny my needles wouldn’t pass, on impulse I picked up the nylon beading cord and found it went through the holes with no needle!  Soon, I had a beautiful pearl necklace lying before me—and by happy coincidence made of the birthstone of June.

I couldn’t stop with the birthday necklace.  I took tiny loose seed beads and made a necklace to hold a jet and crystal bee given to me by a beloved teenager…it looks like silvery nectar with bits of pollen and evokes the hive to this one-time-beekeeper.  Then I made a necklace of smoked quartz rounds, long owned and never used….they feel like little wheels of change against my throat! The color evokes every sabbat fire every burned here….this Smoke of Many Fires necklet is a magic thing.

When my back twinges, I rest, I nap, I eat.  I use a prayer strand recently made at our women’s circle; I realize how perfectly these beads could be merged with candle magic.  I am feeling a strange bliss rising over the pain in my back.  And Saturday night I dream of my Gods, I hear the pipes and bells that connote Herne for me and wake before dawn on Sunday with an image of Him coming as Lover, wrapped in barbed wire that will pierce me and pain me.  But that wave of bliss overrides it all, and for the first time in my long life of chronic pain, I realize I am not fighting the pain.

I rise, I make a new prayer bead strand for use in many justice issues.  Its beads are brown and red-orange and the pendant is a tiger-striped glass heart.  My back still aches, but I feel NEW.  I run my hands over my own face, neck, skin feeling tangibly different and I marvel at the transformation that came in the night like dreams, but stayed into daylight.  And then I know something I have not said to myself before.

Pain is not my stopping point.  Pain is my starting point.  Pain is not my enemy; it is the lover that reveals ignored places in myself.  It is not my ruler, nor need I conquer it.  It sits beside me on my life’s duet and half the beauty of my life springs from that source.  It is the brier to my rose.  It blunts my thorns like I softened the edges of thorns on my rose-cane wand and makes manageable the sharpness that is me.

Tiger-hearted prayer beads….made out of pain and bliss, for calming the savage beast inside and releasing the battle to be won.

The list is a bit early this week.  My back is whacked and I have a feeling I may be semi-drugged in bed tomorrow when the moon is completely full.  Perhaps before today is done.  So, here is the list as I have found it.  My sympathies to the families and loved ones grieving.  My feet to the Labyrinth with the most recent names (all at the top).

U.S. Marine Lance Cpl. Robert D. Ulmer, 22, of Landisville, Pa., died as a result of a non-hostile incident in  Iraq.

The following three U.S. Army men died in Afghanistan as a result of an IED explosion and small arms fire:

Maj. Kevin M. Jenrette, 37, of Lula, Ga.,

Staff Sgt. John C. Beale, 39, of Riverdale, Ga., and

Spc. Jeffrey W. Jordan, 21, of Rome, Ga.

U.S. Army Sgt. Jasper K. Obakrairur, 26, of Hilo, Hawaii, died in Afghanistan, of wounds suffered when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

U.S. Army Spc. Charles D. Parrish, 23, of Jasper, Ala., died in Iraq, of wounds suffered earlier that day in Jalula, Iraq, when his vehicle was struck by an anti-tank grenade.

U.S. Army Spc. Christopher M. Kurth, 23, of Alamogordo, N.M., died in Iraq, of wounds suffered when his vehicle was struck by an anti-tank grenade.

U.S. Army Spc. Jarrett P. Griemal, 20, LaPorte Tx, died in Afghanistan in a non-hostile incident.

Cpl. Stephen Bolger, 30, of the United Kingdom died in Afghanistan of hostile fire and IED attack.

LCpl Nigel Moffett, 28, of the United Kingdom died in Afghanistan of hostile fire and IED attack.

Rifleman Cyrus Thatcher, 19, of the United Kingdom died in Afghanistan of hostile fire and IED attack.

U. S. Army Spc. Roberto A. Hernandez II, 21, of Far Rockaway, N.Y., died in  Afghanistan, of wounds sustained when his mounted patrol was attacked with an improvised explosive device and small arms fire.

The following three U.S. Army men died in Afghanistan when an IED detonated:
Staff Sgt. Jeffrey A. Hall, 28, of Huntsville, Ala.

Pfc. Matthew D. Ogden, 33, of Corpus Christi, Texas.

Pfc. Matthew W. Wilson, 19, of Miller, Mo.

U.S. Army Sgt. Justin J. Duffy, 31, of Cozad, Neb., died  in Iraq, when an improvised explosive device detonated near his vehicle.

U.S. Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew G. Reza, 27, of Austin, Texas, was killed  as a result of a non-hostile incident in Afghanistan.

U.S. Army Spc. Marko M. Samson, 30, of Columbus, Ohio, died  in  Iraq, of injuries suffered from a non-combat related incident.

U.S. Army Pfc. Samuel D. Stone, 20, of Port Orchard, Wash., died  in Iraq, of injuries suffered during a non-combat related vehicle roll-over.

U.S. Army Pvt. Thomas E. Lee, III, 20, of Dalton, Ga., died in  Iraq, of wounds suffered when an explosive device struck his vehicle.

U.S. Army Pvt. Bradley W. Iorio, 19, of Galloway, N.J., died May 29 at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Landstuhl, Germany, of injuries suffered from a non-combat related incident in Iraq.

This week is supposed to be the week to blog about pagan values.  I have a bit of trouble with this although, yes, I am pagan and I certainly do have values.  It is the smacking those words together that makes me feel a bit more Sylvia Plath than I like to feel.

I don’t care much for the phrase “Christian values” nor again the phrase “Conservative values”….I like the word “values” to stand on it’s own.  I get a serious case of the ass when people try to co-opt traits I consider available to all.  But I do understand the need to take back the concept of HAVING values and yet BEING pagan.  Because you see, there are those out there who think being one of those “damned  to Hell” sorts means we have no values at all.  Or at least nothing worthy of the name.

And that pisses me off.  The very concept that worthwhile values come only from religion of any sort is anathema to me.  The idea that worthwhile values come only from the “right” religion makes me feel a bit like a Viking berserker, or perhaps a Byzantine iconoclast.  Because you see, that is what words are in the modern world—the approved “icons” we are allowed to worship and pay homage to without censure. So every group out there is busy as pirates grabbing all the best words for themselves.  Love, Faith, Charity, Honor, Loyalty, Patriot.  And they affix the adjectives to the words, “Christian”.  Nope, sorry, you don’t get the patent on the word just like that.

Now, I worship perhaps more frequently than many at the altar of the Oxford Dictionary;  words can be holy to me—they are our only chance to communicate and create change in so many situations.  So, when they are put into bondage by ideologues I get more than a bit pissed off.  It does make me want to break things; but how does one break a phrase?  Very easily.

These values , for instance, are not only “Christian” values: love, faith, charity.  They are simply VALUES that anyone at all, of any spiritual tradition may espouse.  I love—daily.  As a couple, we give 2 to 5% of our income to charity EVERY month.  Before doing the grocery shopping, by the way. I have won through my own skeptical nature to have faith in something that transcends this world, too.  I don’t get presumptuous enough to define exactly what that is—doing that kind of thing makes you go blind or crazy, if you ask me.

I also believe in personal honor and uprightness of behavior.  Some would say this is a pagan value, since it is close upon the Greek ideal of “arete” and some Christians would simply label it the sin of pride.  So perhaps I will let someone affix the label “pagan” to that value, as long as they don’t think it means that there are not honorable, upright Christians, Jews, and Muslims out there.

I am a pagan.  I have values.  I love, I give, I fight, I AM.  I will not be pigeon-holed by my religion, by my race, by my gender.  Words, especially words describing values, are meant to be sparkling jewels moving freely in the sunshine of reason, if you ask me.  Not stuck in dusty unread books.  Not bound by chains of ideology OR religious dogma.  Not bottled for public consumption like a soft drink to lull anyone into false security OR created anxiety.