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Dear Planet Waves:
Kudos to Mr. Francis for showing us in the concrete, how to quash the voices of needless self-doubt, external criticism, and the self-pitying fear of others, in the face of that most daunting of tasks: figuring out how to make our vocations actually viable [please see recent edition, Taurus: What is the Question].
I don’t even want to go into how relevant his conclusions on this topic are for me, and those closest to me, as we wade through our late 30s and into our 40s with remarkable gifts and not a damn clue how to do what we do (most joyfully, uniquely and with divine beauty) without jettisoning all hope and taking the first salaried position, or hourly wage, that comes our way. Until we become a bartering society, let the magus of Kingston have his pay, and maybe the rest of us will have a chance at becoming sufficiently empowered by being able to hear his say…
— M.
P.S. And lest some suggest Mr. Francis and all at PWs lack soul — I’ll risk exposing myself: My very recent subscription is comp’ed (and with friendliness that was truly humbling — not the kind of snobby condescension reserved for those that Mr. Dolittle identified as the “undeserving poor” — thanks, Chelsea!).
I say this to make the point: contrary to suggestions that Mr. Francis and Planet Waves have sold their souls, the organization quietly offers crucial mercy for brilliant but be-leaguered grad students going on their 10th year of a doctoral program while single parenting two sons on adequate child support and with no loans to spare.
Sold out? My ass.
When I am finally financially solvent (meaning: not on food stamps and assisted utilities — and don’t worry, I know my time is coming — I am finally discerning my divine worth and value…did I really just say that??!) I’ll be subscribing, gifting subscriptions, and offering the occasional good will donation for the next brilliant grad student figuring out that how her value makes for the possibility of living out a vocational that is, indeed, viable.
Dear Friend and Reader,
Thank you all for sending in your testimonials, it’s really encouraging to read them and see how much Planet Waves means to you; please keep them coming.
It’s been unusually sunny in Dublin this summer; last year, we had a record-breaking 49 days of consecutive rain. Everyone around me is doing their part to make up for last summer: outdoor seating in pubs and cafes are packed, St. Stephen’s Green, the largest park in the city centre, is carpeted by picnic blankets, teens spooning on the grass after school and hippies juggling and playing frisbee (much to my girlfriend’s consternation, as they’re always blocking the footpath.)
In the spirit of things, I decided to go for a walk after work. I’m not great at distances, but it’s about a mile or so to walk from my girlfriend’s house to the beach, where we stroll along the water, spot the joggers that follow the route religiously and, if we’re lucky, spot the cute Weimaraner in her red harness, splashing around at the edge of the sea.
About halfway to the beach, we paused at a traffic light. That’s when I felt it: a hand grabbing me hard on my waist. I spun around, and found myself facing a very broad, tall, ruddy-faced man sneering at me drunkenly. He bent down, matching his face to mine, and said, “What’s your problem?”
Mary Clare and I were scared, but she said, “Hey! What are you doing?” and he raised his paws and clapped in her face. Then he ambled off.
You see, no matter how many times I forget, there’s always someone who will step forward and remind me: women are public property in this world. We exist without a forcefield, without a strong one anyway, and people, particularly men, are welcome to invade that space, our conversations, our bodies.
On days like these, when I feel so invaded, the only thing that’s guaranteed to make me feel better is music. Eric wrote about Faithless, a politically-minded artist in the trance genre: I’ve included an excerpt of that piece below. For me, though, it’s Le Tigre. I’ll leave you with some lyrics that helped me a lot today, from a song called “FYR” (Fifty Years of Ridicule).
Ten short years of progressive change
Fifty fuckin years of calling us names
Can we trade title nine for an end to hate crime?
RU-486 if we suck your fuckin dick?
One step forward, five steps back
One cool record in the year of rock-rap
Yeah we got all the power getting stabbed in the shower
And we got equal rights on ladies niteFeminists we’re calling you!
Please report to the front desk!
Let’s name this phenomenon!
It’s too dumb to bring us down!F.Y.R. fifty years of ridicule
F.Y.R. take another picture
Scroll down for today’s aspects, courtesy of Serennu, and the daily Oracle.
See you tomorrow,
Rachel Asher
To All New Arrivals
Brussels, Friday, April 13, 2007
It is always interesting what constitutes a subversive at any given point in history, and I think that Maxi Jazz, the face and principal voice of Faithless, qualifies for ours. He is not a closet idealist; it seems everything about him, every sentiment and idea, is out in the open. He is a peace and love kind of revolutionary in deeply cynical times, who uses words like “Enron” and “Halliburton” in his song lyrics and proposes that political activism consists mainly in loving and taking care of people.
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In Paris, Maxi Jazz performs as the audience watches, seemingly nonplussed. Photo by Danielle Voirin |
I discovered Faithless living in London three years ago, basically because I have a habit of buying work by musicians I’ve never heard of when I go to a record store. Their new CD had just come out — called No Roots. I saw a stack of them by the cash register and asked the clerk what she thought. “They’re kind of chill,” she said.
I bought it and have played it hundreds of times since, often the last thing before sleeping. Maxi is one of the most reassuring voices alive, speaking from a place of certainty that has not forgotten its pain; pain that never descends into feeling sorry for itself. Early in the No Roots CD, he calmly explains, in a light rap style which hooks you even if you have no interest in rap:
Whether long range weapon or suicide bomber
Wicked mind is a weapon of mass destruction
Whether you’re soar away Sun or BBC 1
Misinformation is a weapon of mass destruc’
You coulda Caucasian or a poor Asian
Racism is a weapon of mass destruction
Whether inflation or globalization
Fear is a weapon of mass destruction
Given the current state of the music industry, where most of what’s commercially available is pre-mixed Skippy peanut butter and Welch’s grape jelly on Wonder bread served up as exotic fare, this is some gutsy stuff. In reality, it is the simple, direct truth as told from a personal perspective by one willing to own it. Astonishing, then, that it reached #7 on the UK charts at the peak fervor of Bush War II. The CD entered the charts at #1.
This was at a time when all of the lies about the Iraq war were standing unchallenged and nobody had heard of Valerie Plame. In London, Piers Morgan, the editor of the Daily Mirror at the time, had just been fired for publishing controversial photos of the abuse of Iraqi prisoners by the Queen’s Lancashire Regiment. (It was American investment bankers who pushed him out of his job.) Shortly after he was fired (the very day after, if I recall), the story, if not the photos, was proven to be authentic.
It’s not, however, the political position of Faithless that I find the most appealing, the most calming to my stressed-out sense of responsibility and overburdened conscience: it’s their reckoning of politics with individual existence, their awareness of the supposedly political being distinctly personal. That is, we are all products of our world and nothing happens in a vacuum, and Faithless takes us out of that vacuum, out of that space of meaningless vapor and into a world where we must see the world and feel ourselves.
Subscribers to Planet Waves Astrology News can read the full article here.
Thursday 12 June 2008
Venus (22+ Gemini) opposite Juno (22+ Sagittarius Rx)
Apollo (7+ Leo) sesquiquadrate Juno (22+ Sagittarius Rx)
Eros (0+ Cancer) septile Pallas (9+ Taurus)
Venus (22+ Gemini) sesquiquadrate Hidalgo (7+ Scorpio Rx)
Sun (21+ Gemini) sextile Eris (21+ Aries)
Venus (22+ Gemini) square Uranus (22+ Pisces)
Mercury (14+ Gemini Rx) septile Vesta (23+ Aries)
Mars (18+ Leo) semisquare Kronos (3+ Cancer)
Pandora (9+ Scorpio Rx) quintile Jupiter (20+ Capricorn Rx) – Near Miss Only
Sun (22+ Gemini) opposite Juno (22+ Sagittarius Rx)
Apollo (7+ Leo) square Hidalgo (7+ Scorpio Rx)
Eros (1+ Cancer) square M87 (1+ Libra)
Vesta (23+ Aries) conjunct 1992 QB1 (23+ Aries)
Pandora (9+ Scorpio Rx) opposite Pallas (9+ Taurus)
Oracle takes us to Jan 02, 2006 – Aquarius – Monthly
Personally, I prefer to treat people like autonomous adults, otherwise I wind up being a dog trainer. I don’t do parental mode, and I wish people would see that it really gets us all nowhere. I say this recognizing that being mommy or daddy to other adults is an absolute obsession in most Western and Eastern cultures alike. Our governments, religions and places of employment are, for the most part, based on this notion. I am aware that there are many tons of people willing to play the child’s role and keep the whole scenario going in virtual perpetuity. You are now receiving a high-intensity call to do what used to be called self-actualize: to be real unto yourself; to be actually you at every moment; to stand apart not merely for the sake of doing so, but because you absolutely must.