Reminder: Pritchard's Peace Diary

Peacefile is pleased to publish below more entries in Evan Pritchard’s Peace Diary. Readers may toggle between the works of Pritchard and Moses via the categories menu at the right nav menu.

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Madnaq: The Way of the Ethical Warrior

Wednesday,June 30th, 2004: This will be the last day of the June 2004 [Peacefile Diary]. I am very happy with the way things have turned out this month. It was an incredible month in American history and I was pleased to live it, breathe it, laugh at it, survive it! I am mailing off the new Robert Jay text for final proofreading, and going to give a class tonight at the Open Center, the fourth in a series. It is called Madnaq, the Way of the Ethical Warrior, and really looking forward to it. A truly fine group of people, who have really come to learn and absorb and participate. It is one of the best classes ever, and they bring a lot to the table too. NY Spirit is tape recording the entire series, and will give me copies sooner or later. I may decide to transcribe the entire set (8 hours!) and post it here at peacefile.org. William Meyers and Leslie at NY Spirit are Buddhists and very dedicated to promoting these semi-forgotten tools of real peacemaking, so I know they will come through. Then July starts off with a spot on the radio in the morning, and then meetings during the day.

Foxes, Not Sheep

Tuesday, June 29th, 2004: A day with some rest, relatively speaking. I wrote an article on the Canadian election after a follow up conversation with a Canadian friend, explaining it all to me, but the email server was down except for old incoming mail, so I couldn’t email it out. Tiokasin Ghosthorse (announcer on WBAI, First Voices) and I both sent voice mail messages at the same time saying the same thing, let’s get together on Thursday for First Voices. The next box of Native New Yorkers/No Word For Time came, and I unloaded it. A pleasant day to be outside today, but a little muggy. I went and made tobacco prayers by the waterfall. I bought some more tobacco and found some kinick kinick in my sacks. I read my emails, and talked to “Alice” about politics for two hours. She is one of the most politically connected people I have met. S.W. knew we would have a lot to say. When she was young, her mother had said “We’re not sheep, we’re fox!” Apparently there are armed guards here and there around New York City already, even though the Republican convention is many weeks away. I am doing my best to clean up clutter around here in quiet little Saugerties.

During the course of this month, I have been using my diary to make a study of what I call connectivity, the ability of a person to place themselves in a position to observe and benefit from synchronicity and serendipity. I did a similar experiment while keeping a diary in 1974, and just as now, I found that the diary somehow greatly increased the frequency of these synchronicities. I don’t know why that is true, but it is based on repeated evidence. Apparently, the subconscious mind is the ruler of coincidence, and if the subconscious mind knows that a diary will record these events, they happen, even if there is no way to consciously make these coincidences of timing happen. What is more interesting is that last month I was beset by a morass of bad timing, and starting the diary seemed to reverse it. Now there is more synchronicity than I can keep track of. I believe that there is also some skill involved, in that we must keep ourselves uncommitted to preconceived plans in order to be able to follow subtle hints and leads that fear and the pressure of obligation can obliterate from our minds. This month has provided ideal conditions for this to happen. Tonight for example, I didn’t turn on the radio to check in on the Mets until about 8:30. I turned on the radio and it was 2 to 1 Mets with a man on second for the Mets. Immediately Piazza was walked, and then Floyd hit a three run homer, followed by a single and then a home run by Ty Wigginton, to put the Mets ahead 7 to 1. There had only been one hit in the previous five innings, and in a few seconds I had heard five men reach base consecutively, and five RBIs. I turned off the radio. The Mets only got seven hits in the game and seven runs, winning 7 to 5. It was Cliff Floyd’s second homer of the day—interesting because he nearly missed the game. He had been stuck in NY this morning because Dick Cheney was in New York, and all air space was closed, so Floyd almost missed the game in Cincinnati. Cheney hates the Mets, which is one more reason to like them. Cheney was in NY to see a Yankee game, and his presence caused the Mets clean-up hitter to be stuck in an airport almost until game time!

Also, while listening I was reading the Times and there was an article about Pre-Clovis discoveries which tie in with the documentary that Ted is making, and with our work together. Most importantly, the article does not acknowledge any of the recent findings (by Ted’s people) in Maryland, bringing Clovis culture several thousand more years into the past. I called Ted and told him to write in, maybe get an article published that would establish documentation for his discoveries. That’s a kind of synchronicity that is much needed if we expect to affect change in this backwards society. I thought of Tina Kelley at the Times, a great young talent, who manages babies in one arm and world affairs in the other, probably under 30, I’d guess. She really likes reporting gnarly Native American issues.

I worked until 2 AM on finishing the editing and typesetting for Robert Jay’s third book, The Awakening. It is a philosophical work that he feels very strongly about. His first two books Andar’s Message: Consciousness, the Magic Lantern of Life, and Andar’s Message, Consciousness, the Key to Freedom (and the Only Reality) are spiritual-political fiction, a new genre to say the least, and they have made real inroads in terms of addressing conspiracy issues dating back before 9-11. I edited and consulted on those books, and they have a touch of humor but are rather outspoken, more relevant than ever. But his new work focuses on pure consciousness and the multiplicity of inner realties. In this book he finds the roots of conspiracy in the individual’s propensity for self-delusion. He roots out the causes of this self-delusion in materialism and ego-clinging. I hope to post the complete text of the two earlier Andar books at Peace File dot org in the near future, and possibly make the hard copies available through mail order. (Resonance, PO box 1028 Woodstock NY 12498) The author is Robert Jay, Awareness Publications, PO Box 8, Clio Alabama, 36017.

Robert, who is in his 70s, is a farmer/contractor from Eastern Shore Maryland who is probably part Nanticoke (based on photos by Speck of Nanticokes in the region circa 1900) and who has been speaking in public on common sense and spirituality since at least 1969. I first heard him speak in 1974 and it changed my life! By the way, the constitutionality statements from several past Supreme Court Justices included in my email to Jason West (which Justice Katz apparently checked out and based his decision on, paving the way for gay marriages in NY state) were all from Andar’s Message II: Consciousness the Key To Freedom! I confess!!! Sorry Jason! I plagiarized! Forgive me!

From City to Valley

Monday, June 28th, 2004: I listened to Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now show at 9:00 which I can only listen to while in the city, so it is a big treat. I took notes as usual, and it was a special morning what with the surprise turnover of Iraq two days ahead of time, and so forth. It was another historic occasion. She was broadcasting from Kansas City, a swing state associated with John Ashcroft, and the sound kept disconnecting. My man Errol, kept coming on to fill the long gaps, his deep, mellifluous voice filling in the break like a barry sax solo, returning by popular demand every so often for an encore.

According to Errol, WBAI, at 99.5 FM is the “peace and justice radio station,” and I say that [Peacefile] is the “peace and justice weblog.” Some of the announcements: UN weapons inspector said that Israel had nuclear weapons but has never admitted to this. 40,000 protested Bush in Turkey yesterday, at NATO conference. There were 10,000 protesting Bush in Ireland, at Shannon Airport in Dublin, where Bush stopped off. Amy G. reported there were over 700 secret service men accompanying Bush, with over 4,000 police. Facing such overwhelming odds, the protesters resourcefully blocked the press corps from reaching Bush for over a half hour, delaying his progress, as they knew he would not leave without a photo op! There were some of the most creative protests yet, including a witch casting a spell to drive Bush from Ireland and a remake of MacBeth, (Mc Bush?) involving a mass march from a historical site associated with MacBeth to the airport. There was also a lengthy public reading of all the names of all the allied dead.

It was also announced that NYC will close off two dozen city blocks surrounding the Convention Center, so that protestors will be kept away. No permits have been approved, which means that any who protest may be subject to the Patriot Act and treated as terrorists. We’ll see about that. She mentioned the Green Party did not nominate Ralph Nader, a big break for Kerry. There are 138,000 Allied troops in Iraq at this time, and that number will go up, not down, as the war atmosphere continues. In fact, there is talk of sending 25,000 more troops in to mop up. The U.S. has created the world’s largest embassy in Baghdad, by the way, and it still controls the oil fields.

There was a secret ceremony in Baghdad about 10:26 AM Iraqi time, 2:26 our time, inaugurating the un-elected government of Iraq. Iata Illawi (spelling mine) has ties to the CIA, to the Saudis, to Iraqi intelligence under Saddam, and also is Shiite, (Coburn called him a “CIA stooge”) however it was noted that he is hated by less people than the other possible appointees. U.S. officials are exempt from the new laws, basically written by the U.S. The heads of cabinets were chosen by U.S. advisors and will stay in at least five years. There is a seven member U.S. appointed commission which can disqualify any parties or candidates they don’t like, rendering any real democracy impossible.

There was talk of a book Full Spectrum Dominance which she found relevant. The most interesting tidbit was a story of Alani Huett Vaughn who served a three year sentence for dissenting as an officer at Fort Leavenworth under a man named Lay Kotter. This man had gotten into trouble on several occasions for his unconstitutional manner of dealing with prisoners, and was sent from one base to another, ending up as a private contractor. Finally he was recommended by John Ashcroft, an old friend from Missouri days, to head up things at Abu Greib. And funny how the investigation only looked at Rumsfeld and found no direct link!

Then I walked around the city a bit, and had a hot dog at an underground hotdog stand called….appropriately enough…The Underdog. I always favor the underdog, so I had to have one. It was on Bleeker Street.

On the way home, I had four pieces of luggage, one of which was a bull horn. As I was running to the Metro North train with two minutes to go, the siren went off twice. It’s a flaw in the design; the switch for the loud siren slides too easily to ON. A Medic was behind me and he started running like mad, apparently thinking it was 9-11 all over again. He was gone before I could catch up lugging my four pieces of luggage (all of which I used in my various presentations, so no “excess baggage:” armchair shrinkos, okay?). I jogged the rest of the way the train holding the bull horn up in the air to avoid this happening again, but that was also the hand holding the suitcase, so it was a real strain! I made the train by seconds, but had to walk through the filled train to find my seat. People had their four pieces of luggage all over the empty seats so I couldn’t sit down and lay out my four pieces of luggage. New York is nothing if not territorial. I rested and wrote notes for future essays.

Upon exiting in Cold Spring, I called the computer guys, my team, and they said they’d be open til 6 PM, giving me just enough time to pick up my computer there. I did not dawdle, and made it under the wire, with seconds to spare (actually minutes). Then I did some errands, and shopped for salad food (chipmunks gotta eat too) . As I drove by The Inquiring Mind bookstore, I saw a screen hanging down and the picture of someone’s face on it. Somehow, I knew that this was something important, a hunch, so I went with it. I drove completely around the larger block and parked as close as I could. It was a Democratic Party meeting, and there was an air of disorganization in the room. Apparently I was an hour early, but information was not easily forthcoming. What I gathered was that in one hour Michael Moore would be addressing the group via MoveOn.org’s website, talking about his movie. They were going to have a discussion. Had I seen it? “Of course!” I said. “Its great, its funny, its moving… what is there to discuss? See it!”

I went home, unpacked, made a call to Canada to see how the elections were going, prepared my laundry, ate dinner, and then sped back and arrived at Inquiring Mind by 8 PM. People were doing a sort of “talking feather” discussion, saying what they liked about the movie, or why they were there. One woman recommended we all read “The Best Democracy Money Can Buy.” A woman from FAIR was there, who had just written an article on the voting machine problem. Findley and Nancy were there from the Methodists and gave me a warm greeting when they arrived, as did Gary S. and others. The August 14th Democratic picnic was announced; Michael Moore’s film will move to 2000 theaters next week.

We saw our white spot on the great map of North America, all the people plugged into the MoveOn site at that moment. We sent the message, 70 people in Saugerties. It was one of the larger gatherings nationwide, with a total of 26,037 people linked at once into the site. It was apparently the greatest number of people ever linked to one interactive site of this nature at one time; I was a witness to history. Then, after prolonged moments of great expectation, and a few more moments listening to the nerdy voice of the narrator, probably the only one who understood the esoteric programming involved, the voice of Michael Moore came on over the PA, and told us about the reactions to his film; how many who saw it quit the Republican party the same day. One man in San Francisco threw his shoe at the movie screen while Bush was on camera. When asked about Kerry, he said that “being a weak-kneed, wimpy Democrat is a sure way to lose the election.” He said that 62% of the electorate is female, black or Hispanic, and would support a more progressive approach, although he also said, “Kerry would never invade a country.” He also mentioned what Amy G had said: The Green Party had refused to nominate Nader even though he had 6% of the national vote. They nominated someone you never heard of instead. MoveOn now has 2.25 million participants. Someone said that with $26 million in ticket sales, Moore must be on the top of Carl Rove’s list. Someone said he has bodyguards, but that may be rumor. The sound link went silent on two or three occasions, and we believed one visual portion was lost. Not surprising, for a first time event, and not that distracting.

The people in the room cheered at all the appropriate moments, (but not so long as to drown out the information) making this Turn Up The Heat evening a fun event for all. Everyone loved it when Moore kept saying, “people are coming out of the theater saying “Why didn’t I see that on the news?”

Moore encouraged us to take off work November 2nd, and vote and then travel to swing states and work at the polls with our families.

I went home after some networking, and talked to my Canadian contacts, asking lots of questions. As it turns out the French name for the herb “Gold Thread,” Savoyane, is derived from the Micmac word “Tisawayenne.” I had been saying all along that Gold Thread was especially prized by the Micmac, and I was right.

The Canadian election was nothing short of a miracle. I had been praying about it all day, on and off. The right-wing conservative Stephen Harper had been leading by two points all week. Moore’s movie hit the Canadian theaters on Friday (earlier in Montreal) and Harper started to speak off-script, saying some insensitive things about minority groups, and there was a 9% flip back to the liberals in the last two days. Pretty amazing! According to one poll, Bush’s support had dipped to 42% before the handover of the Iraqi government, its lowest point, but Kerry had only 41%. That was before the release of the movie and before Nader lost the Green Party nomination.

Here is my article, drafted this night then completed the following morning … [note: article posted at the main page of peacefile.org]

World's Greatest Guitarist

Sunday, June 27th, 2004: I slept in all I could after a night on the floor with little sleep. I met with my tour group at 2 PM and it was a good turnout of about 14 people. I wore my Tecumseh tee-shirt again, very comfortable. We handed out yellow ribbons again as tickets, and also as prayers for the Creator to bring our troops back home sooner and safer. As it turns out, our prayers were heard, in that at 2:26 AM (later that night) the Iraqis were given a marginal self-rule of their country, days before expected. Hopefully that will lead to an earlier resolution of the problems and an earlier return of troops.

It was a windy day, but no rain and lots of sun. I used the bull horn more than Saturday. Everyone especially liked my “Hog sign” lecture about the real meaning of New York. Most of the information on the tour is included in Touring Native New York, the booklet, (Resonance Communications) although I get to add different things each time, depending on what we run into. One thing we ran into today was the Gay Pride Parade. As we stood on the sidelines, I commented that some Algonquin sources indicate a division of genders into many categories, including non-gay transvestites as an important group, separate from gay transvestites, and mentioned that bi-sexuals were considered gifted at resolving husband and wife disputes. Just then, a drag queen strutted by, probably one of the best examples of a drag queen in the entire parade—very feminine but obviously male. I had to stop talking as he/she swished by me, to keep from laughing! The timing was awesome. As I always say, “You can’t pay money for that kind of coincidence!” There has always been at least one such coincidence on each of my tours.

We could not cross at Christopher Street, so we went north and crossed at Fifth Avenue just above #25th. The river of dancers and floats was flowing along the banks of the Manetta Creek. Ironically, synchronistically, that part of the parade turned out to be made up almost entirely of Indigenous dancers from various countries in South America. There was a giant cardinal as well. I encouraged them to watch for ten minutes, although one or two left, and then the actor from Last of the Mohicans walked by; I just saw his back. Then we walked east and in a few minutes were at the powwow grounds of the Munsee, the Kintecoying, “the place where they are dancing.” (now called Astor Place/Cooper Square) I stated that dancing similar to that which we saw in the parade may have occurred here, and that the Wappingers/Canarsie group had South American influences in their culture.

We joined in a circle around the Astor Place Medicine Wheel and sang songs and smudged and did ceremony. No Goddesses came from the West, however. We lost one or two more people who elected to go home, and arrived at St. Mark’s with a strong group of about 7. Suzannah H had made it all the way, as did several others, who said they loved the tour. My feet were tired and hurting, and I didn’t want to move. Later I said to my assistant and professional tour guide Roxy that I had a thought in my mind for Mexican food, and we found Burritoville down the block. We ate there, but I got really sick an hour later, and had such a pain in my stomach that I could hardly walk. It got worse, much as things got worse for the Aztec Emperor Montezuma, as his battle against the Spanish wore on. Somehow his thirst for revenge found its mark in me, even though my sister was at that time in Mexico, and she did not get sick. Perhaps I saved her from certain death through some sort of unintentional shamanic transference. Once I realized this, I passed it on to the spirit world as a healing. Rainbow Hawk, you owe me a Burrito!

60 Minutes was on TV and I was amazed by the stories; someone I knew personally was being interviewed, the inventor of Imclone, the wonder cancer drug. I had performed for the guy’s party when his patent came through. It was “A Tribute to Excellence” and they had “the world’s greatest French Chef,” the “world’s greatest hotel, the Lowell Hotel, a five star joint uptown, and I was “the world’s greatest guitarist.” Expectations were high. I apparently did not disappoint them. The thing that impressed me most was that there was no place to park so a doorman watched my illegally parked pickup truck for four hours! Anyway, after the party and speeches, I went over and talked to the man for whom this honor was being given, and he was very open to talk to me as an equal, and also very respectful, which is not usually the case when entertaining for a dinner party of rich folks, who are inclined to confuse servants with slaves. He explained to me how the drug worked and he was not patronizing. I felt I was finally among a crowd of Renaissance men and women, and by the way the pressed liver from France was superb! It was one of my favorite gigs, everyone was in a good mood; someone had patented a cure for cancer. Well, according to this story, his stock went high and then the FDA turned down his approval and stock went down suddenly. He knew this would happen and told his daughter to sell stock, and he was caught for insider trading. Also, Martha Stewart (his friend not mine) heard from someone inside the FDA that it was getting turned down, and she sold out, and that’s what brought her down. He swears he never mentioned it to her. The reason the FDA turned it down, and this was just after 9-11-01, was for insufficient documentation, a technicality of sorts, but he got mad because it killed the stock value, and made a few mistakes of judgment. He was convicted, the ownership apparently went to the pharmaceutical company, and the FDA approved the deal and now the stock is higher than ever, and he is going to spend several years in jail. It all sounds kind of funny to me, sort of like an ideal situation for the pharm company, and of course I think Conspiracy Theory, what if he KNEW about some secret deal behind 9-11-01 and had to be silenced? You know they always go after us geniuses. On the other hand, he now admits that he did a number of foolish and illegal things. Things you and I would NEVER have done. And therein lies the difference. You have to always be ethical in everything you do. It all comes around. Another story was about how Raytheon, the same people who make V-MADS and space weapons, made the Patriot Missiles, and this story revealed that they didn’t work at all in Desert Storm, only shooting down 4 out of 44 atttemps, and that they often shoot down friendly jets, with friendly pilots inside, our pilots. I think three were shot down in Desert Storm, almost the same number of planes as scud missles, and more in this new war. They never fixed the problem! And since it is all computerized, they can’t stop it. Is that dumb or what? I mean, no Algonquin Indian would create a machine like that! Only Raytheon. That was a story for someone to do more research on! There were other great stories as well, and of course a great bio doc on Michael Moore himself, which was very entertaining, and also revealed the man behind the camera, saying that he is very shy, and “hates having to confront people,” but he’s so successful at it he can’t give it up.

I had some peppermint tea and watched a one-sided Mets-Yanks double header. Hot liquids are not recommended for this, but I didn’t have my health book with me, Prescription for Nutritional Healing. Rice is most recommended, and all sundry vitamins and minerals. Do not take Immodium too soon. Gatorade is the natural impulse, and it is a healthy one.

Keep Away from the Fire-Tipped Arrows

Saturday, June 26th, 2004: The tour started at 11 AM at the Old Homestead Inn and both Roxy and I ended up arriving a few minutes too late to be fashionable, which I was reminded of at the end of the day when checking my messages, as Alli had called me on her cell phone. We used yellow ribbons as tickets, which I said represented the prayers to the west, the direction of joy and music and dance and the setting sun. It also was intended as a prayer to bring our soldiers safely back from Iraq, according to the European meaning of the yellow ribbon. It also helped us keep track of who paid, in a nice way.

The group was smaller than we had hoped, as several were scared off by the short spring-like rain shower that greeted us at 2:10. It only lasted ten minutes, and I regaled the tour takers with stories about the region, explaining why a rum house might be a very advantageous thing to build near an Indian fort filled with trade goods and food. Such trades were later ruled illegal, as rum tended to render the local natives unable to make wise business decisions. Notably, the tavern was over 100 meters from the fort, the distance a fire-tipped arrow can fly when shot by an angry Lenape the morning after, affected by a wicked hangover and the discovery of an empty wampum bag at his side.

The sun came out and the waters subsided quickly and we were on our way. I showed them the Poe House, built on top of Manetta Creek, and Manetta Tavern, also built on top of the creek, and talked about S.W., the lone woman warrior who took on the big power brokers of New York City to preserve the Poe house as a museum and to save Manetta Creek from being pumped dry, during the building of the foundation of the large building that replaced the Poe House, and to save all the trees in the area from dying of thirst now that Manetta was dry. Later on that night, I was to see her across a crowded room at a fundraiser, and greet her, and tell her what I’d just said to the tour, but more of that story of coincidence later. I showed our tour group the musical mural on West 4th Street, which was enjoyable.

All the people on the tour wanted to go visit the American Indian Community House at 708 Broadway, right off of the Sapohannikan Trail, so we did, and they bought lots of good stuff at the gift shop on the third floor. There was a kind elder native woman at the counter, it may have been Monica Greene, I’m not sure. They had plenty of copies of Native New Yorkers on the shelves, which was good to see. We looked at some of Leota Lone Dog’s pictures of Native New Yorkers from the past. But what was so great about visiting the Community House was that it shows that Native people still live in New York, and in greater numbers than ever, 84,000 strong. The phone number there is (212)598-0100. Website is http://www.aich.org.

We went to the Kintecoy, Cooper Square, and smudged and sang a song for the sun, and from the west there came a line of pagan dancers, beautiful women in beautiful costumes, accompanied by musicians, and they took over the great Medicine Wheel circle on the traffic island, and did a dance ritual for a long time, and we joined forces with them, to the delight of many spectators. My smudge stick was billowing in my hand, and so I walked clockwise around the group of dancers for seven rounds, as the smoke washed over their sinuous bodies flowing with the music. Earlier that day, I had said that the color yellow, music and the great mother come from the west, and indeed it was true at this moment. Everyone was very impressed with the power of those yellow ribbons. It was a great ending to our journey, and so some left, but most of us made it to St. Mark’s Chapel, to view the burial vault of Peter Stuyvesant The flag was at half mast, as if for him, but really from Ronald Reagan, a similar bigoted, but devout saber-rattler from a slightly more recent time. I was kind in my words for Peter, as he brought an end to the Kieft war which had raged for many years.

Then Roxy and I split up, and she went to see the Lesbian Parade down fifth, and I found Union Square, quite by accident and watched an interesting round robin political debate going on, and spoke to a very radical guy named Paul Revere, who had a lot to say, and recommended I read the website http://www.infowars.com. I ran into my old friend Barry, a wild and crazy guy and he gave me a ticket to a fund raiser for Kerry and for We Are the World, and I accepted. I went looking for Roxy, but had missed the parade, so I went to Washington Square Park where the parade ended up, expecting to find her, but though I looked for an hour I did not. It was a festive atmosphere all over town, with crowds of happy people wandering to and fro, almost like Mardi Gras. The beautiful weather added to the good feeling of love and playful rebellion everyone was feeling. In Washington Square Park there was free music everywhere and people with funny signs and buttons and tee shirts. Most prominent was a five girl cheerleader squad who led rather clever group cheers protesting in favor of womens’ rights and other political ends. No Roxy! I thought maybe she met the girl of her dreams.

I ran to find the theater the Webster, where this fundraiser was; it was further than I expected, and was allowed in. There I saw yet more funny skits and slogans and great music by the band Jubilee and Chocolate Thai. They are so good, I saw them sing on a subway car for five minutes a year ago, and gave them money, and recognized them when they appeared on stage. Their islands flavored music is full of positive upbeat feelings, and sung with sincerity. I told them I would plug them and sing their praises in my weblog, and so I am. (I need to find their info to pass along, but its missing. I will fill it in later)

The event was organized by Rick Ulfik of We The World, (not We Are the World, that’s a song) and he was there, although he didn’t remember meeting me at the United Nations for the Gandhi/King event so long ago, so long before 9-11-01. I bought a copy of How to Get Stupid White Men Out of Office from a graceful model-like Indian beauty named Naina who had a great stage presence, and who was director of a youth action political group, and Program Director and Network Coordinator for the League of Pissed Off Voters. (Naina@indyvoter.org) Their slogan is “Revolutionizing Democracy!” She could be President some day! She edited the book, so I had her sign it. She wrote, “For Evan, keep fighting the good fight!” Its published by Soft Skull Press, 71 Bond Street, Brooklyn, NY 11237. (a top radical press) It is an excellent book that sticks to a theme of 20-something youth who get elected to high political positions and make intelligent choices. It is also a book with an attitude, and pretty funny at times. There is a whole chapter on my man Jason West. (No, I didn’t mean it that way, and anyway Jason is not Gay and neither am I). The League of Pissed Off Voters has an office at 226 W 135th St. 4th floor, NY NY 10030. (212)283-8879.

Also there was Alan Shogel, also of We The World, who produced this evenings’ activities. I spoke with a man from Billionaires for Bush, a funny WTO-type theater protest group who arent’ really billionaires but dress like them. They say they rarely get bounced from events, unless they mention Carlyle, and then they go to jail just like everyone else who mentions that word. The fund raiser is for Eleven Days of Global Unity, a good cause; a series of events that will begin on September 13th of this year, at The September Space at 520 8th Ave. at 37th St. 11th floor. Reception is on Monday September 13th at 5 to 8 PM, with live music and refreshments. Check it out at http://www.wetheworld.org/11days. There will be a public signing of the Global Declaration of Interdependence!!!! Talk about being a witness to history!

It was after that I saw S.W. across the room and waved to her, but it took a while for us to make our way through the crowd. She told me she was in Raging Bull and her scene was filmed right in this building and she took me to this old bar and re-enacted her scene for me. She also told me this crazy story about how Robert DiNero was at the bottom of the staircase we were standing on, and she was at the top (where we stood) and said, “So who is this Robert De Neerio anyway?” Apparently they pointed to him and he saluted her, and she got the part. I have to see the movie again and look for her; she was a bit younger. Anyway, after that story she introduced me to “Alice”, and we immediately found we had a lot to talk about, so we all went out to dinner, but that place was closed, so we all ended up finding our way to this no-name Vietnamese place, also synchronistically! We were there well over an hour, and all kinds of speeches were made, and I networked with a ton of interesting people.

Fahrenheit Opens

Friday, June 25th, 2004: I was in Rhinebeck to see the opening of Michael Moore’s new film Fahrenheit 9-11, with a friend. There had been a 4:00 PM show which we missed. We arrived well before 7:00 but not only had the 7 PM show sold out but all shows for the day. My friend had gone to park the car, I saw the signs, and went back to the street to look for the car, no car, so I went to get a schedule. I had a twenty in my hand. This bald guy says, I got two tickets for the 7 PM show! A single woman said, “I want it, but I’m only one person!” He says, “I can’t sell just one, I gotta sell two. Who wants two! I wave my twenty and say I want two, I want your tickets. He looked to the movie theater officer who was standing there turning people away, and said “Can I do this? I can’t keep the twenty right?” NO! So he gives me some change, which is short but I don’t even count it cause heck its Michael Moore and I’m going to be a witness to history. Only the second showing (in this town, at the historic Rhinebeck Upstate Theater) on the first day outside of the “screening” theaters from this week. Money is not an issue! So my friend shows up, having parked fifty blocks away, and I say, “Here’s the tickets! I scalped em!” And we went in.

The theater made a special announcement that we would all want to talk about this film, but don’t do it during the movie and don’t do it inside the theater afterwards. Everyone go outside, go to a restaurant, and talk. They had already heard of the reaction crowds have to this movie. Every seat was filled with fannies, and the crowd cheered and clapped at all the best places, but not so you’d miss a word. It was all very clear. There were lots of visual innuendos, but no false statements that I could see. A lot of information some leftists have heard before, but assembled to make a powerful statement. The visual juxtapositions were rather funny and maybe unfair, but he left out other damaging material that would have been justified. He hit the target with pleasing this audience and we all gave the blank screen a standing ovation at the end. We didn’t realize it then, but the next day and the next were reports of sell out crowds in red and blue states, as the film went on to gross $26 million in one weekend. What I love about that stat is that it accomplished this while carrying an R rating and showing only in select theaters, while pundits on every channel were trying to do flood control and poo poo the whole thing as a joke. What will happen next week when it hits 2000 more theaters? (That’s a lot of theaters! That’s 400 per state! They’ll have to stage another terrorist attack! I can see it now—code orange! Islamic militants to invade New York to see Michael Moore’s new film!)

NOTE TO READERS: The previous ten days were ten exciting, thrilling, action packed days full of celebrity gossip and front-line derring do. I have it all on tape which is in a secret storage compartment, and I will transcribe it all for you over the weekend, barring another terrorist attack in which John Ashcroft, dressed in a turban, comes to my door demanding Michael Moore tickets.