Category Archives: Police Brutality

Talking to Your Doctor, Support from Social Media, and Living Green in a Red State Part Deux

Talking to Your Doctor, Support from Social Media, and Living Green in a Red State Part Deux

By: Verde LoneOwl

2014-11-20 13.46 Verde Loneowl author pic edit z

When it was time to talk to the doctor about my decision to try the Cannabis Oil as a treatment for the “C” diagnosis was not sure how it would be accepted. Was so thankful that when we talked she told me many of her patients with HIV/AIDS  here in Texas are already using Cannabis Oil! As an Internist with a very large patient base from around the country I was so glad she was positive! Was laughing as I was leaving had to just turn and say “I wonder how much THC I have in me?” She smiled and said “I have those numbers.”  There have been many Urine tests.  Having a doctor who understands cannabis does no harm is a wonderful thing.  It is sad to read people who are trying to talk to the doctors about Cannabis Oil when the doctor’s are not encouraging Cannabis as a treatment option.  It’s not really the Doctor’s fault it is the “Lie” of Prohibition.

Medical students follow strict studies to become a Licensed Physician. Specialist’s are required even more stringent rules and studies. The problem is most of the “Drug Education” is provided by large pharmaceutical companies. This limits what the medical students are learning. This results in keeping American Doctor’s dumbed down. These are the Country’s brightest and best who are accepted into Medical School.

Another area where American doctors are falling behind is in Nutrition. From my understanding most Medical Schools only focus on limited numbers of Nutrition Courses required. So these learned persons do not learn about Nature or the benefit of food.  In the Bible Belt we have few.

Back to that strong Southern Baptist upbringing we learned “you are what you eat”.  My mother also said “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”. My mama was right but she did not know about Genetically Modified Food (GMO) Products are being fed to American’s. Those who are poor it is hard to get food that is not GMO.  Improper nutrition results in higher rates of Cancer and other serious illnesses on the residents of the South.

Southern States are used to doing what they have always done. The elected officials have used the lies, bigotry and fear mongering in the Media to sway the feelings of the people. It happened here when Reagan was running for President. The only thing is we have not changed since Reagan in the Southern Bible Belt. These traditions are deeply seeded in our ‘roots’.  Doing the same old things in the name of God. The South keeps Union’s out of the South. This keeps most of those living in the South ‘poor’. By spending less on Education and giving huge tax breaks to lure new business to the area they dumb down all children in the Public Education System.

What is really sad… is the fact they do all this hating of others in the name of God.  They talk about ‘Abortion is Murder’ yet when the children are born into poverty in Texas in 2011 was reaching 26% or 1 in 4 children in Texas are living at or below the poverty level. When the state refuses increase funding in Education the children suffer. Those children who are being taught in Private Schools have a better opportunity to advance to Higher Learning. Those children in Private School are not in Public Education.  The red voters think they are highly educated people who love God. That is why it is so hard for them to see the damage their actions are causing. The ‘white people’ do not even understand the premise of  ‘white privilege’.  There is no love in the hearts of those who hate others because the sins are different. Being a Southern Baptist we do not have different degrees of sin. A sin is a sin. One as bad as another.  We are no longer a giving loving people taking care of other human beings but are mean and angry if we must help those in need.

http://tfbn.org/rapid-reaction-poverty-in-texas-cities/

Texas spends an average of $8,998 per student this school year, 46th among the 50 states and the District of Columbia, a comparison by the National Education Association shows. That is well under the national average of $11,674.”  This is evidence of how the State of Texas is harming all the children in Public Education.  This is what is hurting Texas and it has been happening so many years in a row now it’s just the way it is.

http://www.dallasnews.com/news/education/headlines/20140325-texas-improves-school-funding-but-still-trails-most-states.ece

While educating myself I learned things which made me upset!  Finding out how Hemp and Cannabis was removed from American’s in 1937!!  Texas Lawmakers failed to provide safe access to the plant for 5 – 10 sessions or between 10 and 20 years.  As Texas only meets on odd years.  Change is  imperative for Texas as a pro-life issue.

People have been trying to get the ‘Word’ out but there seems to be a problem dispensing the information. People who ‘read’ ‘educate’  ‘question’ and do not just take what they throw us as crumbs, begin to gather information from various reliable sources. There is evidence of  Legislative items on file,  the Pharmacopoeia, and other government agency documents which could be requested under the Freedom of Information Act.  Books were read and written documenting these facts.   Would our government really do this?  Yes they will and yes they did!!! A whole bunch of Laws made totally on lies and continue today across America and the World based solely on Greed of certain men.

Activists who saw Personal Freedoms being illegal for no reason other than money began to write books … about this horrific coop made by the USA on its’ own citizens.  There is history of this in books and on the internet on the federal government web sites.  I try to use .0rg or .gov as reference sites in my education. There are many activists. There are also many crooks.  In the sixty’s we used to say ‘know your dealer’ same is true today.

Well, continuing in 2013 with doctor visits and having things frozen off … the last one was the worst and closest to my brain and spinal cord.  It was scary.  So would share going to the doctor and why on Facebook.  Coming home and waiting for the cancer to do what ever it was going to do … as I was not in the right Zip Code to do anything else. Texas Lawmakers failed to provide a Compassionate Cannabis Care Act for Texas in 2013.  There was a Committee Meeting in 2013 but those on the Committee were rude and made fun of those who were there to provide Testimony.

So here we are. Fixing to go into Texas next Legislative Session 2015.  We did not Turn Texas Blue.  We did not change the make up of the Lawmakers of Texas other than to add some more red ones.  Texas only meets every other year so Texas must Legislate in 2015 for us to have any relief.  Texas has had some kind of bill every session for over a decade.  2013 we got in Committee.  Some of the Committee members came to the witnesses and advocates who were at the Session and said they had no idea.

At the grass root level we are more organized for the 2015 Session. The DFW Norml chapter has Organized Poster Children for the DFW area.  We have 4 children who might benefit from Cannabis Oil.  These families are representing over 80 other families across Texas.  If you are in any state with out a Compassionate Cannabis Care Act please take the time to Contact your Elected Officials by phone, email or personal visit. Let them know there has been a tragic mistake made in 1937 and we should not put people in jail for a plant.  The law is a lie.

click here to find your representatives at the local and federal levels

Team Alexis is the group which represents the families recently announced a meeting is set with the new Speaker of the House for Texas Joe Straus along with  DFW Norml.  We all can see that a Compassionate Cannabis Care Act is being seriously considered for Texas 2015.  Bi-Centennial should be able to also introduce a full Legalization Bill for Texan’s as well!  No need for people to be flying to Denver, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco or Anchorage to partake of a plant substance. The Cannabis oil was used by the ancient cultures of the world with out a worry about a ‘high’. Do not fear the plant.  The law is a lie.

Texas passed no Compassionate Cannabis Care Act for Texans in 2013.  Yet I still longed for the Cannabis Oil to treat my Cancer my self.  I began to search the Internet for stories and people.  ‘Low and Behold’  I found someone with the same diagnosis as me!! I was thrilled!!!

Suddenly, I was in a Movement that I know nothing about except Cannabis is Medicine. Cannabis oil kills cancer cells. Cannabis oil is ILLEGAL.   Texas is certainly not the best place to be physically when you have Cancer and choose Cannabis Oil as an Alternative Treatment. There is no Safe Access.

You may recall from my previous entry that I became ill with pneumonia in 2010.  As I remember this is what happened….

Upper respiratory infections had always been part of my existence.  Nebulizers, Pro Air, AdvairSpiriva, Albuterol, Nasacort, the list goes on and on and on.  Breathing medication regularly prescribed by the ‘White Coat Pushers’ and there are many.  The boy and I had moved to our new home near the school. Was just the two of us here hubby was in Austin and came home on the week ends.

Was laying on the couch .. not sure of how many days I had been on the couch but it had been many. A friend dropped by to see me but stayed just a few minutes. Quick enough to say ‘You don’t look good’ then leave!! This alerted me that I might be sick.

Picking up my cell phone I sent the text message … “I think I might be sick”.  That was all I got in the message. I continued to remain on the couch.  Some time after dark he came in the back door.  Bless his heart I must have looked bad.  Quickly he said he would take me to hospital … explained I was not clean as I had not been able to shower and I could not go to a hospital so dirty.  So he allowed me to sleep here on the couch.

In the morning he went out side and got a plastic chair and put it in the shower.  He had to help me to the bathroom. He brought me something to tie up my hair.  Sitting in the white plastic chair he cleaned me up, dried and dressed me.  We got in the car and off to the hospital we went. I forgot to call my doctor and tell him we were on our way to the Emergency Room.

Getting to the hospital I do not really remember. The Emergency Room personnel were top notch. There was not question I was quite ill.  Off to Radiology and on fluids immediately.  They were so nice.  In  2 hospital gowns and was placed in a room.  Hubby was there with me.  Not sure of what they did but remember more than two bags were hanging numerous times.

Poor hubby … as I would come to this world would think of something that was not at the hospital. He was so sweet. He would go to Wal-Mart or Beall’s the only two choices then in the small town where the hospital is located and lovingly search for the item I thought I needed.

The boy was only 14 then and was worried something might happen to me. He has always been afraid he would loose me.  Hubby came home at night to fix him supper and return to the hospital after he went to school.  That way he was not alone.  The  hospital stay was 7 days before release.

Pneumonia, is physically draining.  Had no idea how little energy remained after that illness.  As a Chronic Fatigue, Fibromyalgia (for more information on fibromyalgia and cannabis click here), Lyme, and other syndrome since 1995 my immune system was compromised to say the least already. The Cancer diagnosis was already in place as well.

Hubby returned to Austin, the boy and I remained here at home.  He was 14 and the freezer was full of things he could cook for his self.  Had a good friend then named Bea and she helped care for me during this time.  Was well enough to move back to my bedroom and no longer on the living room couch.  Was thankful to have a caregiver during that difficult time in my life.

Being in your bed with 0 energy and still on antibiotics … my friend Bea introduced me to ‘Farmville’ by Zynga on Facebook.  Began playing the game on the computer while my body could do nothing else.  Hubby would call and ask ‘What are you doing?’ my answer ‘Petting chickens’.  As I write this now … it sound pretty silly to be petting chickens with a mouse on a computer screen … but I did play the game.

The recovery is long for Pneumonia.  As I healed I continued to play the games on Facebook to occupy my days and nights as my hubby was in Austin and I was here … at home.

The games continued and friends on the social network were made.  Anyone who uses a Social Network knows you get friends by getting to know one person … then you see other friends post and you like what they say or you agree you send a friend request.

Always, a Marijuana friendly person I began to make friends who were in the Movement sometime during 2013. That is when I knew about Cannabis Oil and Cancer and knew Texas Lawmakers had a Bill! 2013 everyone who is anyone knows Marijuana is Cannabis. Cannabis is Medicine.  Cannabis kills cancer cells.  USA has a patent.   That makes it pretty simple! The law is a lie. Texas Lawmakers would have the opportunity to change the laws in 2013!!

During these years when a skin lesion would appear would call the doctor, go in to the office, have it frozen and return home.  I did not keep the records of lesions but they did begin to come more often during 2012 -2013.  Would sling out ‘Going to doctor to have another one removed’ on the social media site each visit to the doctor.

Texas Bill stalled in Committee in 2013 with the gop Lawmakers laughing and making Cheech & Chong jokes while people were testifying.  It was not a happy time.  I could not understand how I knew about Cannabis as a medicine for 18 years in California as well as other states.  How could Texas Lawmakers not let Texan’s have this Cannabis Medicine?  How could Texas Lawmakers not understand that Cannabis has always been medicine?  The Lord they taught me about in Sunday School, also Anointed people with Oil.  How many times has a Religious leader used Holy Anointing Oil?  How could this be happening?  These Lawmakers were all ‘self proclaimed Believers’ but they could not believe in a plant given by God/Creator for the people of this planet?  How could this be?  It was making me doubt my own belief in God.  How could these people proclaim God in one breath yet be so full of hate? The hate continues today even worse than before.

All during 2013 I was posting how stupid the Texas Lawmakers were for Failing to provide Compassionate Cannabis Care Act for Texans.  Also, Texas had Battleground Texas a Political Effort by the Democratic Party to Turn Texas Blue in the November 2014 Elections. Facebook became a device for me to say things I would have never had the opportunity to say to anyone!  There was an audience.

Many Fear changes which are coming but those of us who understand are not afraid of Cannabis.  We anxiously await the Gift to us from God to not be an act that may result in a long long Prison Sentence. God intended for this plant to be used by all His creatures.

Unknown to me … as I am new to the Movement. There are people who are willing to risk Personal Freedom to help people who have been diagnosed with Cancer or other terminal disease, to receive free of cost Cannabis Oil.  This is done as people who can grow may not have use for the trim called ‘Sugar Leaf’.  This is the smaller leaves which are on the buds when the Cannabis Plant goes into Flower stage.  Many throw this part of the plant away.  It has many medicinal properties.

I am sitting at my laptop one day when someone sent me a message on Facebook.  Someone sent a Private Message to me on Facebook and said they had medicine for me!  I’m like ‘What I’m in Texas’!!  They said ‘You have cancer don’t you?’  Well yes I did … so now what happens?  A message comes across saying ‘It’s your Turn! All you need to do is join a Facebook group called Cannabis Oil Success Stories and tell your story there’.  That seemed pretty easy!

Having just had my worst experience ever with the last lesion I had frozen.  I did not know what to do.  I did give my full name, address and zip code to this person on Facebook.  I tell the Shiner ‘God Bless YOU!!’ The reply ‘I’m an Atheist but what ever makes you feel good.’  Just like that!  An Athiest was sending me free cannabis oil in Texas!!! Tears of joy ran down my face!!! How could I be so blessed?? Thanking God every day!!! Thank you God Thank you God Forgive them God they know not what they do!!! I was being given a gift of Cannabis Oil!!! An Atheist was giving me a gift from the ‘Tree of Life’.  The Texas Lawmakers have no idea what God is doing in this Movement.  Yes the Movement is full of people from all walks of life … doing what ever they can to bring this healing gift to all who are in need.  My belief is God is in control He sees us suffering.  God did not intend for us to be here and be unhappy or unkind.  ‘Be still and know I am God’.  That is one of the hardest for me always amazed when I see His works becoming evident.

It was the end of  January 2014.  Waiting … for the package to arrive.  Waiting for the package to arrive. The package took 8 working days to get to me!  Anxious to see what happens I tear into the package with anticipation. Dosing for Cancer I had already learned was 60 grams in 90 days for most cancers.  So  I knew how to dose and begin immediately!

Now came the time to tell my family about the ‘secret’ kept inside so many years.  The thing I had hidden from them so well.  I had to tell them why I must have the Cannabis Oil which is a Felony carrying a sentence of up to 99 years in my state. I never hid the fact I was a burner … smoking when ever I can.

Hubby is the one who is most concerned.  We both understand if they want me there is nothing he can do to protect me from the law.  Life as I know it could change.  Having been disabled and dependent since 1995 almost 20 years this is very frightening.  It’s not like burning a joint.  Texas has loosened up the flowers … under 4 oz can be a misdemeanor. Cannabis oil is not the same in Texas Law.  Asset Seizure is another concern for us.  The option to let the cancer continue doing what it is doing and die. Or choose to disobey a bad law.  A law I know is based on lies since 1937.

How can I not commit Civil Disobedience? I could no longer wait for the Law to change and live.  I had to treat or die.

I was on the West Coast  during an R&R in Nam.  I loved Huntington Beach, California during Nam … I’m sure I would love it today!!  It is a place on our planet you can stand on the ground and see mountains, Pacific Ocean and lovely landscape!! California was always the place for the Movers and Shakers.   It was the first time I saw a Mall with more than 1 level!!! Wow, bought an Orange Velvet Mini Dress!!  Was ready to have a blast!! Too bad I did not know about Cannabis it was alcohol for me then. 

Never having acquired a taste for alcohol … spent most of my evening walking on the beach at night talking with them.  They were all drinkers.  Beach House in Cali all night!  There were many of us there! I had ran into a girl friend from Junior High School.  She was living there and took me into the California night life. Staying with my Uncle Oscar Hook (Was at Pearl Harbor, my dad’s brother) and his wife Aunt Hera was a blast. There were a bit upset the 17 year old Texas  girl who stayed out all night.  We all know girls just wanna have fun til the sun comes up over Santa Monica Blvd.  California was wonderful and I enjoyed that trip in the late 60’s very very much.   A life memory BC (Before Children).  

 

 

Further articles by Verdeloneowl

Green Living In a Red State (part one)

House of Mirrors

From the El Paso County Jail. There may be glitches while i learn WordPress. http://hipgnosis21.blogspot.com/2014/07/of-mirrors-june-2014-el-paso-county.html

WEDNESDAY, JULY 23, 2014

House of Mirrors

House of Mirrors

26 June 2014

El Paso County Jail

Don’t freak out now, anyone. I’m still out of jail, pending appeal, as of today, 23 July 2014.

Sorry, no footnotes in the blogger. You can get them here
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1umk-RPyxoiQTPSS84Cp4sR80UAXFzsVRpuiRBVzrdNA/edit?usp=sharing

Pogo couldn’t have known the heft and resonance of his words: “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

I wrote a screed a while back, (Today’s Tom Sawyer), excoriating shitty Christian behavior. There’s still plenty to say about all that, and maybe some of it will come out here, but it’s not the point of this one. During that earlier rant, i promised to harp, eventually, about bad behavior on the part of pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, and some of my other natural affinity groups as well.

That isn’t it either. Or maybe it is. But not really. Not quite. I promised to write about the Fear, too, and nor is it that, though the Fear runs through it all. This is about a war.

Many members of of various of the groups on that funny little list i jotted just now recognize and will now openly state that there’s a war looming. They’re wrong about that much anyhow–the looming is all done and the fight is on. Right now. It’s been on for decades, (or maybe forever). I’m here “jotting” because that’s what one does in the county jail, where i am a political prisoner–a POW, really, though i prefer to think of myself as a prisoner of conscience–but maybe it’s a digression to say so. Or maybe not. Let’s explore this amalgam of notions a bit, and see if we can find out.

Here at the county jail one finds a  peculiarly refined microcosm of the way the dynamics of the variously conflicting groups involved in this bizarre  war interact, cleared of much of the dross of false civility that ordinarily circumvents the fight out on the sidewalk, at least here in the U.S.A.

I know Europeans here that want to skedaddle from this place and others afraid to come here because many of them can see the shitstorm brewing and it scares them. They often seem to see it more clearly than we Americans are able to do at least in part because our access to real news is barely over nil, of maybe because as outside observers they aren’t saddled with the cognitive dissonance we sorry brainwashed frogs that live in this hot-ass boiling lake must so often suffer. I don’t know. I hope they realize this pond holds us all.

Oddly enough, while the interactions at the county jail display some of the finer points of conflict in out absurdly labeled free society, they also show some reasons for hope. There are still lights burning.

“Fuck the Police!”

I don’t know how many times i’ve heard that phrase from some of my dearest friends. I’ve uttered them myself. Often. Sometimes at the top of my lungs. Sometimes it was far more personal: “Fuck you! That’s right, you, personally, whomever you may be in your opposition to me, my pursuits, my people. Maybe i should refer to the less common; “Fuck the Pigs,’ because the police are only a fractional representation of one segment, one camp of that particular overarching social entity the hippies were talking about when they began to disparage swine so badly as to label their opposition thusly in this odd existential war from whence the flesh and blood scrap derives.

“Battle lines are being drawn,” went the line from the Buffalo Springfield some fifty-ish years back. They’re pretty well drawn, now, though they resemble lines a three-year-old might scribble. The shit’s on. People are fighting. The skirmishes often feel like some kind of kids’ game though too, involving blindfolds and billyclubs. Maybe i can’t deny swinging a stick around myself, sometimes. Maybe that’swhat this is–a chance for me to look in the mirror a little, Maybe it’s because it’s hard to sit the game out when i keep getting hit in the head. Whatever. Let’s keep on through the maze and just hope we don’t smash too many mirrors.

During the Occupation we intrepids staged a few years back, (and some of us still engage–viva la revolución and all), my son and i traveled to Denver for the final push when the cops razed the encampment there. The scene that October of 2011 there in Denver was some shit this country hadn’t seen in over forty years maybe, where armored brigades of soldiers–not cops at all but stormtroopers–rolled on a huge, disparate group of unarmed citizens. It was tragic. And beautiful. Versions of the same scene played out all around the world that fall.

There at Civic Center Park, across the avenue from the State Capitol building, the Boy and i stood in the thick of it as those battle lines sharpened, and then blew apart as the whole outhouse hit the fan.

Some thousands of us had marched boisterously through Denver’s business district, pausing for a special visit at the Federal Reserve. After completing a wide loop around downtown we mounted the Capitol steps for whatever confrontation the Denver planners had planned. They, (to claim a thing–we), had been warned explicitly beforehand to stay off that particular edifice, so the moment we took the steps and began railing through one of our ubiquitous bullhorns, the shock teams appeared, as if the bearded-Spock Enterprise had beamed them to the scene.

Honestly, i was pretty fucking nervous at that point. It’s not as though i’d never been beaten up by the cops before, but that stuff is kind of a young man’s sport, and i was never really all that much a fan anyhow. Besides, those had always been cops, not armored sci-fi gladiators. But the main thing was the Boy. He was fifteen then and down for plenty, but he looked pretty worried too, and, (the mainthing, actually), i knew i’d never live through my next conversation with his mother if i allowed him to be beaten and busted by the police. I suggested we pull back to the park and we did, but i felt pretty spineless for having done it, really.

The Boy and i had a quick consult: “You see what this is going to be, right?” “Yeah.” “Are you down, or not?” Nervous but firm, “Yeah.” “Fuck it then…God damn it; your mom is gonna kill me. Let’s get some lunch.”

The park itself  was packed with crowds of Occupiers, some having returned with us from the march and probably harboring thoughts similar to mine. The encampment had been there for a good while by then, and the Black Flag Anarchists’ Free Kitchen was in full flight. It had already been dismantled more than once as a special preparatory project for the cops–kind of a warm-up. Knowing well what was coming, the no-nonsense scrappy men’n’women in black behind the table were all assholes with elbows, flying around in a frenzy with grim serious joy in their eyes as they did their level best to sling as much great tasting free food as possible before the inevitable hammer fell. Those guys were freaking awesome sauce with motherfuckin’ cherries on top!

Rather than spark an actual and possibly justifiable war on the Capitol steps, even the most radical and adrenaline-blinded of the group holding that position chose to retreat and quickly joined us at the park. The scene was oddly festive, with tents and art projects and folks dressed for carnival. The mid-autumn day was one of those beautiful Colorado Indian summer affairs with pristine blue skies through which flitted happy and blissfully oblivious birdies merrily on the lookout for delectable kitchen scraps. But wait! What the hey!!? The second the steps were abandoned and that contingent joined those meeker souls at the park, the rest of the cops in the danged known universe materialized in a huff and began setting up for some sort of paramilitary invasion. No shit–we all saw pretty quickly what the Denver PD had in mind for all those fun military vehicles and equipment they’d been collecting.

The scene changed dramatically there on the sidewalk where the Anarchists’ Kitchen was set up. There was plenty of action before then, but the top-gun radicals had been at the Capitol along with most of the cops. Now a phalanx quickly formed four deep with armored, shielded, armed, dangerous, implacable, and apparently stoically unflappable police stretching all around, up and down–all over the fucking place. Where the Boy and i stood a few sidewalk squares south of the Kitchen the scene was still like a carnival spreading away and outward into the park in every direction save the east, buy more like something Ray Bradbury or John Clifford might have dreamt up. Moving east to west one would have passed through four rows of cops in a formation that i’d only seen before in movies about Fascist  takeovers where American patriots saved the day by vanquishing some identically clad and positioned foe as we occupiers faced that day, armored only with our damn-the-torpedoes ethical certitude. Stepping by the entrenched police if one were to dare it, one would have passed a modest tree lawn, an ordinary sidewalk crowded with dark festival-goers, and could then step up to the folding table that served as the Anarchists’ ordering counter and serving table set up facing east from the immediate western line of the sidewalk across from the antiMayberry lines facing the stubbornly unaltered scene in the Kitchen.

The cops just stood there for what seems to memory like hours, but it couldn’t have been all afternoon or anything. Maybe so. The Boy and i milled around a bit getting a look at the overall scene and scoping out the various sections of the park. Behind the Kitchen to the west were the bulk of the tents, say a hundred or more, though others were scattered about. Further  west a concrete round with maybe a fountain or something hosted a bunch of info tables, some artsy hippies working on various projects, a triage setup, some chanting Hare Krishnas. More cops surrounded the camp, even more moved to close off the farthest reaches of the west side, We all saw we were utterly circumscribed and our physical position was hopeless. There was plenty of Hope, mind you, but all of it founded on our spiritual position, see.

As we awaited  what everyone knew to be inexorable, not so many of us remained quiet, (by “us” i mean Occupiers here; the most visible government employees were silent). I did mostly, and so did the Boy, he for his reasons and i for mine. The whole scene produced its own racket, but the most noticeable volume arose from the collection of spirit-moved Occupiers working the lines of eerily insensate gendarmes. Each was moved by his or her own personal spirit, few of which were very friendly toward the collective juggernaut we faced. More than one strode frenetically up and down whichever line was convenient  hurling f-bombs and spittle with as much force as he could muster. You know: “Fuck the Police!!!” and,“Fuck Yoooou!!!” from distances as close as the collected officers’ gear would allow. The pointillistic rows of cops, each in his own world, stared into space, eyes forward and directed at some Unknown, refusing eye contact. Only God and each man in his solitude knew what blackness filled his vision, (and possibly anyone operating one of those guv’mint mind-reading gizmos, if you’re into that sort of thinking).

Sensibly, few of the “non-violent” protesters were mad–that is crazy–enough to attempt to get physical. Those that did were promptly stomped, smashed and removed from the game. Otherwise with many pushing the envelope right to its most extreme limit, the arms-down-and-rigid-face forward-inches-from-any-nearest-random-cop’s-shielded-face stance of extreme and barely checked agitation rapidly became familiar. I for one was amazed at the extraordinary and rather creepy restraint the beleaguered police were displaying, though few shield-screened eyes could keep from betraying internal turmoil. Virtually none of the cops would assent to eye contact.

As this scene played itself out, a few Occupiers attempted to convince their fellows to mellow. In the midst of the very front and most electrical line of all this, there in front of the aforementioned Kitchen, one lone Occupier was working the line of gear-laden men, moved by a different spirit indeed. He was preaching it, baby. Pleading. Begging. Beseeching. As near to tears as i am now as this scene spills its way from my fingertips, fluid in his expressive motion to and fro as any practiced Sunday morning crowd-pleaser can i get a amen. “Don’t you see it? You are us! We are you! Please, stop this! We are one–we must stop fighting!” And in some brilliant, divinely inspired voice, “Lay down your shields! Join us! Put down your clubs and have some lunch!”

And then …right there in front of the Boy and me…with the scene in the actual Kitchen production area behind the table unchanged from before the lines formed…one of them did exactly that.

There was actually a fat queue at the Kitchen counter that parted like the Red Sea, astonished, for this newborn brother of ours to step up and claim his serving. He ate his food in silence and retook his spot in that other line which remained unaltered as his fellows stood unmoved, apparently in both senses. The Boy and i collected our portion of genuinely bomb-ass risotto and began to  eat with more on our minds than i can possibly describe. Before we were half through our plates the order came and we found ourselves dining amidst a police riot, our rice flavored by tear gas. (I got off the hook before, when the story remained vague. I suppose his mom is going to kill me now, after all).

The rest of the action went down as one would expect, with ample blood, outrage, and pepper-bullet injury and indignity and tears and drama. It was all on the news, with much expansion available on YouTube. You can look it up. None of that is the point.

I heard that one cop was fired perfunctorily that night.

We were there. Right fucking there. It really happened. It was so surreal i almost have to ask the Boy if it actually wasn’t some kind of dream.

Those two guys, though. That cop! When we all do what he did, just maybe then the war will be over. He looked up  and noticed he was looking in the fucking mirror.

The thing about all this is that the crowd of Occupiers was a full-on quorum of average joes with representation across several spectra. There were Christians, pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, blue-collar Barney Rubbles, Republicans, Democrats, hippies, neo-hippies, and chanting, jangling Hare Krishnas, The cops were disguised as an invading foreign force but we all know they were really just a bunch of Christians, pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, blue-collar Barney Rubbles, Republicans, and Democrats. The only groups lacking representation really were the hippies and the chanting, jangling Hare Krishnas that stayed with the rest of us till late into the night serving free food as a replacement for the Anarchists who had been quite the hell shut down. Oh yeah–there likely weren’t too many Anarchists on the cops’ side of the lines. I’m pretty sure  those differences are significant. Maybe the cops would be better if they got some of those groups they were missing. The janglier the better.

Back here at the county jail where i’m still Occupying, there’s lots of conflict, though not nearly so boiling hot. The old standby, “Fuck the Police,” is scrawled or carved around and about and plenty of folks on either side of whatever line each has drawn are fully prepared to swing  clubs at one another. Many of the sheriff’s deputies and sad, paycheck-to paycheck “detention specialists” are happy to evoke a very dark spirit indeed in their efforts to control us inmates who represent Other to them. I have been struck by the observation that these obnoxious fucks are the respected  representatives of a society that so many of our deluded citizenry expect us of the criminal class to emulate.

Ha! I may be an asshole myself, but no thanks: I have no interest in joining your obnoxious and shitty club.

Meanwhile, virtually all of us prisoners, including myself sometimes, react…”Grumble grumble fuck the police why i oughtta etc. etc. ad nauseum” Various of us slink around and steal or fight among ourselves or in general practice a sort of blindfolded subservience to Self. (Marco! Polo!…Ouch! Motherfucker!!!). We’re fucking obnoxious. We want the cops and the guards and judges and bankers and presidents to act differently but…why would they want to join our obnoxious and shitty club? When they do we wind up with a spectacular clusterfuck like the found at the Denver county jail last month, where a dep was helping a banger sling dope and administer beat-downs. Happens all the time. In every kaleidoscopic variation you can imagine.

Pogo couldn’t have known the heft and resonance of his words: “ We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

I wrote a screed a while back, (Today’s Tom Sawyer), excoriating shitty Christian behavior. There’s still plenty to say about all that, and maybe some of it will come out here, but it’s not the point of this one. During that earlier rant, i promised to harp, eventually, about bad behavior on the part of pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, and some of my other natural affinity groups as well.

That isn’t it either. Or maybe it is. But not really. Not quite. I promised to write about the Fear, too, and nor is it that, though the Fear runs through it all. This is about a war.

Many members of of various of the groups on that funny little list i jotted just now recognize and will now openly state that there’s a war looming. They’re wrong about that much anyhow–the looming is all done and the fight is on. Right now. It’s been on for decades, (or maybe forever). I’m here “jotting” because that’s what one does in the county jail, where i am a political prisoner–a POW, really, though i prefer to think of myself as a prisoner of conscience–but maybe it’s a digression to say so. Or maybe not. Let’s explore this amalgam of notions a bit, and see if we can find out.

Here at the county jail one finds a  peculiarly refined microcosm of the way the dynamics of the variously conflicting groups involved in this bizarre  war interact, cleared of much of the dross of false civility that ordinarily circumvents the fight out on the sidewalk, at least here in the U.S.A.

I know Europeans here that want to skedaddle from this place and others afraid to come here because many of them can see the shitstorm brewing and it scares them. They often seem to see it more clearly than we Americans are able to do at least in part because our access to real news is barely over nil, of maybe because as outside observers they aren’t saddled with the cognitive dissonance we sorry brainwashed frogs that live in this hot-ass boiling lake must so often suffer. I don’t know. I hope they realize this pond holds us all.

Oddly enough, while the interactions at the county jail display some of the finer points of conflict in out absurdly labeled free society, they also show some reasons for hope. There are still lights burning.

“Fuck the Police!”

I don’t know how many times i’ve heard that phrase from some of my dearest friends. I’ve uttered them myself. Often. Sometimes at the top of my lungs. Sometimes it was far more personal: “Fuck you! That’s right, you, personally, whomever you may be in your opposition to me, my pursuits, my people. Maybe i should refer to the less common; “Fuck the Pigs,’ because the police are only a fractional representation of one segment, one camp of that particular overarching social entity the hippies were talking about when they began to disparage swine so badly as to label their opposition thusly in this odd existential war from whence the flesh and blood scrap derives.

“Battle lines are being drawn,” went the line from the Buffalo Springfield some fifty-ish years back. They’re pretty well drawn, now, though they resemble lines a three-year-old might scribble. The shit’s on. People are fighting. The skirmishes often feel like some kind of kids’ game though too, involving blindfolds and billyclubs. Maybe i can’t deny swinging a stick around myself, sometimes. Maybe that’swhat this is–a chance for me to look in the mirror a little, Maybe it’s because it’s hard to sit the game out when i keep getting hit in the head. Whatever. Let’s keep on through the maze and just hope we don’t smash too many mirrors.

During the Occupation we intrepids staged a few years back, (and some of us still engage–viva la revolución and all), my son and i traveled to Denver for the final push when the cops razed the encampment there. The scene that October of 2011 there in Denver was some shit this country hadn’t seen in over forty years maybe, where armored brigades of soldiers–not cops at all but stormtroopers–rolled on a huge, disparate group of unarmed citizens. It was tragic. And beautiful. Versions of the same scene played out all around the world that fall.

There at Civic Center Park, across the avenue from the State Capitol building, the Boy and i stood in the thick of it as those battle lines sharpened, and then blew apart as the whole outhouse hit the fan.

Some thousands of us had marched boisterously through Denver’s business district, pausing for a special visit at the Federal Reserve. After completing a wide loop around downtown we mounted the Capitol steps for whatever confrontation the Denver planners had planned. They, (to claim a thing–we), had been warned explicitly beforehand to stay off that particular edifice, so the moment we took the steps and began railing through one of our ubiquitous bullhorns, the shock teams appeared, as if the bearded-Spock Enterprise had beamed them to the scene.

Honestly, i was pretty fucking nervous at that point. It’s not as though i’d never been beaten up by the cops before, but that stuff is kind of a young man’s sport, and i was never really all that much a fan anyhow. Besides, those had always been cops, not armored sci-fi gladiators. But the main thing was the Boy. He was fifteen then and down for plenty, but he looked pretty worried too, and, (the mainthing, actually), i knew i’d never live through my next conversation with his mother if i allowed him to be beaten and busted by the police. I suggested we pull back to the park and we did, but i felt pretty spineless for having done it, really.

The Boy and i had a quick consult: “You see what this is going to be, right?” “Yeah.” “Are you down, or not?” Nervous but firm, “Yeah.” “Fuck it then…God damn it; your mom is gonna kill me. Let’s get some lunch.”

The park itself  was packed with crowds of Occupiers, some having returned with us from the march and probably harboring thoughts similar to mine. The encampment had been there for a good while by then, and the Black Flag Anarchists’ Free Kitchen was in full flight. It had already been dismantled more than once as a special preparatory project for the cops–kind of a warm-up. Knowing well what was coming, the no-nonsense scrappy men’n’women in black behind the table were all assholes with elbows, flying around in a frenzy with grim serious joy in their eyes as they did their level best to sling as much great tasting free food as possible before the inevitable hammer fell. Those guys were freaking awesome sauce with motherfuckin’ cherries on top!

Rather than spark an actual and possibly justifiable war on the Capitol steps, even the most radical and adrenaline-blinded of the group holding that position chose to retreat and quickly joined us at the park. The scene was oddly festive, with tents and art projects and folks dressed for carnival. The mid-autumn day was one of those beautiful Colorado Indian summer affairs with pristine blue skies through which flitted happy and blissfully oblivious birdies merrily on the lookout for delectable kitchen scraps. But wait! What the hey!!? The second the steps were abandoned and that contingent joined those meeker souls at the park, the rest of the cops in the danged known universe materialized in a huff and began setting up for some sort of paramilitary invasion. No shit–we all saw pretty quickly what the Denver PD had in mind for all those fun military vehicles and equipment they’d been collecting.

The scene changed dramatically there on the sidewalk where the Anarchists’ Kitchen was set up. There was plenty of action before then, but the top-gun radicals had been at the Capitol along with most of the cops. Now a phalanx quickly formed four deep with armored, shielded, armed, dangerous, implacable, and apparently stoically unflappable police stretching all around, up and down–all over the fucking place. Where the Boy and i stood a few sidewalk squares south of the Kitchen the scene was still like a carnival spreading away and outward into the park in every direction save the east, buy more like something Ray Bradbury or John Clifford might have dreamt up. Moving east to west one would have passed through four rows of cops in a formation that i’d only seen before in movies about Fascist  takeovers where American patriots saved the day by vanquishing some identically clad and positioned foe as we occupiers faced that day, armored only with our damn-the-torpedoes ethical certitude. Stepping by the entrenched police if one were to dare it, one would have passed a modest tree lawn, an ordinary sidewalk crowded with dark festival-goers, and could then step up to the folding table that served as the Anarchists’ ordering counter and serving table set up facing east from the immediate western line of the sidewalk across from the antiMayberry lines facing the stubbornly unaltered scene in the Kitchen.

The cops just stood there for what seems to memory like hours, but it couldn’t have been all afternoon or anything. Maybe so. The Boy and i milled around a bit getting a look at the overall scene and scoping out the various sections of the park. Behind the Kitchen to the west were the bulk of the tents, say a hundred or more, though others were scattered about. Further  west a concrete round with maybe a fountain or something hosted a bunch of info tables, some artsy hippies working on various projects, a triage setup, some chanting Hare Krishnas. More cops surrounded the camp, even more moved to close off the farthest reaches of the west side, We all saw we were utterly circumscribed and our physical position was hopeless. There was plenty of Hope, mind you, but all of it founded on our spiritual position, see.

As we awaited  what everyone knew to be inexorable, not so many of us remained quiet, (by “us” i mean Occupiers here; the most visible government employees were silent). I did mostly, and so did the Boy, he for his reasons and i for mine. The whole scene produced its own racket, but the most noticeable volume arose from the collection of spirit-moved Occupiers working the lines of eerily insensate gendarmes. Each was moved by his or her own personal spirit, few of which were very friendly toward the collective juggernaut we faced. More than one strode frenetically up and down whichever line was convenient  hurling f-bombs and spittle with as much force as he could muster. You know: “Fuck the Police!!!” and,“Fuck Yoooou!!!” from distances as close as the collected officers’ gear would allow. The pointillistic rows of cops, each in his own world, stared into space, eyes forward and directed at some Unknown, refusing eye contact. Only God and each man in his solitude knew what blackness filled his vision, (and possibly anyone operating one of those guv’mint mind-reading gizmos, if you’re into that sort of thinking).

Sensibly, few of the “non-violent” protesters were mad–that is crazy–enough to attempt to get physical. Those that did were promptly stomped, smashed and removed from the game. Otherwise with many pushing the envelope right to its most extreme limit, the arms-down-and-rigid-face forward-inches-from-any-nearest-random-cop’s-shielded-face stance of extreme and barely checked agitation rapidly became familiar. I for one was amazed at the extraordinary and rather creepy restraint the beleaguered police were displaying, though few shield-screened eyes could keep from betraying internal turmoil. Virtually none of the cops would assent to eye contact.

As this scene played itself out, a few Occupiers attempted to convince their fellows to mellow. In the midst of the very front and most electrical line of all this, there in front of the aforementioned Kitchen, one lone Occupier was working the line of gear-laden men, moved by a different spirit indeed. He was preaching it, baby. Pleading. Begging. Beseeching. As near to tears as i am now as this scene spills its way from my fingertips, fluid in his expressive motion to and fro as any practiced Sunday morning crowd-pleaser can i get a amen. “Don’t you see it? You are us! We are you! Please, stop this! We are one–we must stop fighting!” And in some brilliant, divinely inspired voice, “Lay down your shields! Join us! Put down your clubs and have some lunch!”

And then …right there in front of the Boy and me…with the scene in the actual Kitchen production area behind the table unchanged from before the lines formed…one of them did exactly that.

There was actually a fat queue at the Kitchen counter that parted like the Red Sea, astonished, for this newborn brother of ours to step up and claim his serving. He ate his food in silence and retook his spot in that other line which remained unaltered as his fellows stood unmoved, apparently in both senses. The Boy and i collected our portion of genuinely bomb-ass risotto and began to  eat with more on our minds than i can possibly describe. Before we were half through our plates the order came and we found ourselves dining amidst a police riot, our rice flavored by tear gas. (I got off the hook before, when the story remained vague. I suppose his mom is going to kill me now, after all).

The rest of the action went down as one would expect, with ample blood, outrage, and pepper-bullet injury and indignity and tears and drama. It was all on the news, with much expansion available on YouTube. You can look it up. None of that is the point.

I heard that one cop was fired perfunctorily that night.

We were there. Right fucking there. It really happened. It was so surreal i almost have to ask the Boy if it actually wasn’t some kind of dream.

Those two guys, though. That cop! When we all do what he did, just maybe then the war will be over. He looked up  and noticed he was looking in the fucking mirror.

The thing about all this is that the crowd of Occupiers was a full-on quorum of average joes with representation across several spectra. There were Christians, pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, blue-collar Barney Rubbles, Republicans, Democrats, hippies, neo-hippies, and chanting, jangling Hare Krishnas, The cops were disguised as an invading foreign force but we all know they were really just a bunch of Christians, pagans, dope fiends, felons, bikers, disgruntled employees, GIs, vets, blue-collar Barney Rubbles, Republicans, and Democrats. The only groups lacking representation really were the hippies and the chanting, jangling Hare Krishnas that stayed with the rest of us till late into the night serving free food as a replacement for the Anarchists who had been quite the hell shut down. Oh yeah–there likely weren’t too many Anarchists on the cops’ side of the lines. I’m pretty sure  those differences are significant. Maybe the cops would be better if they got some of those groups they were missing. The janglier the better.

Back here at the county jail where i’m still Occupying, there’s lots of conflict, though not nearly so boiling hot. The old standby, “Fuck the Police,” is scrawled or carved around and about and plenty of folks on either side of whatever line each has drawn are fully prepared to swing  clubs at one another. Many of the sheriff’s deputies and sad, paycheck-to paycheck “detention specialists” are happy to evoke a very dark spirit indeed in their efforts to control us inmates who represent Other to them. I have been struck by the observation that these obnoxious fucks are the respected  representatives of a society that so many of our deluded citizenry expect us of the criminal class to emulate.

Ha! I may be an asshole myself, but no thanks: I have no interest in joining your obnoxious and shitty club.

Meanwhile, virtually all of us prisoners, including myself sometimes, react…”Grumble grumble fuck the police why i oughtta etc. etc. ad nauseum” Various of us slink around and steal or fight among ourselves or in general practice a sort of blindfolded subservience to Self. (Marco! Polo!…Ouch! Motherfucker!!!). We’re fucking obnoxious. We want the cops and the guards and judges and bankers and presidents to act differently but…why would they want to join our obnoxious and shitty club? When they do we wind up with a spectacular clusterfuck like the found at the Denver county jail last month, where a dep was helping a banger sling dope and administer beat-downs. Happens all the time. In every kaleidoscopic variation you can imagine.

Sorry, reader; a glitch is preventing the end of this from displaying just now. I’ll fix it, but meanwhile, this link is better for the footnotes anyway. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1umk-RPyxoiQTPSS84Cp4sR80UAXFzsVRpuiRBVzrdNA/edit?usp=sharing

Although those of you that have read or will now read the other stuff here on hipgnosis will easily recognize the common ground that one may imagine stands to be found on the lawns inside the moats of our adjacent castles in a neighborhood full of loons, all built on air, i am deeply indebted to Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason for some of the truly fine and beautiful language i snatched more or less wholesale to help me build the last four paragraphs here. Even though their book,The Rule of Four is a best-seller of a popular genre, i highly recommend it as the best book i’ve read produced during the twenty-first century. I wish i had written it myself, (while noting the title of this piece). Everyone should read this book.

POSTED BY STEVE BASS AT 9:45 PM

Homeless Colorado Springs man emboldened by Occupy effort appeals jail time

from the Colorado Springs Gazette

http://gazette.com/article/1534440

By Jakob Rodgers Updated: July 28, 2014 at 2:07 pm

Nearly three years ago, Steven Bass’ tent led to a police ticket – a ticket that led to a trial, an appeal denied and 160-day sentence in El Paso County jail.

Bass, the first person cited under Colorado Springs’ camping ban, remains mired in a legal battle backed by a University of Denver assistant professor working for free.

He represents a small segment of the homeless issue – a man on a personal crusade against the camping ban emboldened by the Occupy Colorado Springs movement. His case is not emblematic of others who have been cited for camping on public property; rather, it is more of an outlier.

While people ticketed for camping typically include the chronically homeless – people whose only home is a tent, and who often rebuff police officers’ offers of secure housing – Bass wants to make a point.

Right now, he is free while appealing the jail time. Bass lives with a fellow veteran of the Occupy movement and blogs occasionally on what he sees as injustices in the world.

“I contend now that this thing has burgeoned well beyond the camping ban itself, and has now become a giant discussion of principle, and just what the hell we’re doing here in the United States of America, and the whole world,” Bass said.

Police issued the ticket in October 2011 when he pitched a tent on a sidewalk in Acacia Park, despite warnings from police that doing so would lead to a citation.

For Bass, the ticket and the Occupy gathering proved an opportune time for a stand against the city’s camping ban – an ordinance passed by the City Council in 2010 that outlawed camping on public land. He said he has volunteered at soup kitchens and for other homeless services for about 30 years, and he lives homeless – usually by couch surfing.

“Just because they don’t have any money, poof, they are made criminals,” Bass said of people affected by the ban.

Eleven tickets have been issued under the ban through June 5, with the majority coming in 2014, according to the Colorado Springs Police Department.

The ban came as camps swelled along Monument and Fountain creeks amid the Great Recession in 2009 and early 2010. So many people lived there that bystanders dropped off donated food and clothing along the creek beds – philanthropy that proved overwhelming to the point of concern, some homeless advocates say. Sanitation issues also arose.

City Council member Jan Martin said she voted for the ordinance for the safety of people using creekside trails, along with concerns about the image that such tent cities would create for the city, she said Friday. Proponents of the ban said it is a tool to get people into more stable housing.

“In my opinion, it’s not a matter of out of sight, out of mind,” Martin said. “It’s just trying to find resources that can help people get back on their feet.”

Because of Bass’ indigent status, a judge decided against a fine in favor of a 60-hour community service sentence for the citation.

Bass said he almost did it – he planned on helping Pikes Peak Habitat for Humanity – until a DU professor offered to help. With the pro bono advice of Christopher Lasch, who teaches at the university’s Criminal Defense Clinic, Bass appealed the case.

A district court judge upheld the municipal court’s decision – a blow to the notion that the ban is unjust.

A subsequent appeal to the Colorado Supreme Court was denied in March, said Rob McCallum, spokesman for the Colorado Judicial Branch.

Through it all, Bass contemplated his 60-hour of community service sentence. And in an April hearing before Municipal Judge Spottswood W. H. Williams, Bass said he will never complete the requirement.

Identifying himself as an Occupier, Bass wrote to Williams that the camping ordinance is “effectively status-based incarceration,” because forcing people into shelters could be another form of incarceration. He also said he already does community service but railed against the court forcing him to do so.

“Therefore, i (sic) am here in front of you forcing your hand,” he wrote. “You must now either acknowledge the ethical poverty of the ordinance, or prove my point.”

In June, Williams answered Bass’ statement with a 160-day jail sentence for contempt of court.

Bass is appealing that sentence with Lasch’s help after having served more than a month in El Paso County jail.

Lasch said the jail sentence was excessive because jail time for failing to pay a fine is usually half of what Bass has served.

Even if he serves all 160 days, Bass has no plans of completing the 60-hour community service order – a requirement that remains.

Lasch wants all of it thrown out.

“The fact that the government would go to such lengths to punish this activity certainly supports Steve’s position that this (ban) effectively punishes being homeless,” Lasch said.

“In this case, it certainly punished him for speaking out against the ban.”

Contact Jakob Rodgers: 476-1654

Twitter @JakobRodgers

Facebook: Jakob.Rodgers

Read more at http://gazette.com/homeless-colorado-springs-man-emboldened-by-occupy-effort-appeals-jail-time/article/1534440#TIqUcdEm4KE8udlJ.99

Shall We Call it Wail Oil or Phoenix Tears?

Its the bitter watches of the night and I wake. I ask myself what it is that has rousted me this day from my slumber. Its not near my body clock’s time of 4am…. There is a wailing in my mind and I must ask myself “whose pain is this?” for I know it is not mine. My body is aching with the storm on the peak, but I’d just found my center and there was no wail with in me like this to speak.

So trying not to wake the other in my bed, I sit quietly and listen to see what it is this wailing voice has come to seek. Its victims so many victims… victims of war, hungry ghosts of a corrupt system, victims of the human butchers and legal poison vendors, victims of industry and victims of hard work, being eaten alive by cancer and bodily disorder of so many shapes and forms it makes me shudder in vibration with this wail. And within me I hold an answer for so many a gift from above that I try to spread without regard to a patient station in life….. It is a wail of responsibility. It is a wail of the profiteer’s victims. It is the wail of prohibitions ugly head……

I light a candle to guard my heart from a wailing so deep in the thick of the night and I still listen to the voice in my mind reminding me of their plight. I sit a while with the lamb in my breath asking that higher than I to step in and take this wail up with my smoke to the sky. I ask for the means to bless those wailing with even a few grams of healing and hope cause I believe in doing what my creator said. And I know that this life and this path I have chosen for myself has never been easy but its not about self.

I give honor to the earth. I burn sacred sage of the earth and cleanse the darkness from my mind until light only remains. I light incense and honor the air. More candles glow and I honor the firey spirit of the soul and I soak in salted and perfumed waters and try to scrub away the victimization of these beautiful souls. Lambs breath fills my pipe and lungs and mind and I try to send a shining beacon of the creators light to these wailing in my mind and in the dark and in their own lives and pain… Dressed for the day I inhale organic tobacco and ponder quietly.

Then another presence comes upon my mind…. and I am taken back though the years and back in time. To a place and time where my body was not constantly sore…. Its boulder its Ginsberg its 1994. Its a little bookish Jewish dude who howled for his time and who brought me to his feet to sit for a time… You see he was my own personal poet willy wonka who saw a bit of my poetry and brought me on up to the Naropa factory to sit at his feet for the anniversary of his beloved school. It was Allen Ginsberg day in Boulder and I was with the master and yet a child myself….. I remember how he opened my eyes and smoked a blended herbal cigarette with me in an intermission…..

What dreams I have of you tonight Allen Ginsberg as you dreamed of Walt Whitman…. with sick people wailing in the night and my soul howling at the moon of my own inner madness.

I wonder where you are tonight while I feel so small and so responsible. I imagine you my zen master in your own nirvana or perhaps your here again in another body and another life… But from wherever you are I seem to hear your voice reminding me of the power of my pen and of the ideals to which you and I both try to keep. You wanted freedom of the plant and so do I. I’m trying to be a willy wonka for others where you were willy wonks for I… and so my musings and prayers and light intercessions complete I turn to what I can do for those wailing from where I am and put actions to the light that I keep.

And so I begin to wail for these folks online saying with my writers voice and my mighty pen:

I begin with this blessing: Virtual early Sunday morning tokes to all of the Rastafarian sacramental strain lambs breath. For me this strain quiets fears and calms my mind. It clears my mind and puts me in a space where i can enter my creators holy throne room with gratitude and peace instead of chaos and turmoil. It makes me still enough to hear the still small voice of my soul. It points me to currents and springs of strength and reminds me of the good i do. All of this i have for me i extend to you virtually and in energy and prayer.

Note***** There are two sacramental strains to the Rastafarian religion. One is called Lamb’s bread (I have never had the pleasure of smoking this strain) and it is said to have cola’s so large that the buds are sliced up like slices of bread. This is said to be more for dancing and rejoicing before the Lamb. Lamb’s breath is characterized by smaller dense highly resinous buds that are mellow, mind clearing and good for quiet contemplation.

I am still looking for new raw material sources to meet demand. I will pay $100 a pound for quality trim. I know a lot of you usually process your own trim but who cant use an extra few dollars around the holidays that the transaction goes to save lives? Call 719 480 0238. you must be in Colorado. I need bulk i need it quick.

I will travel anywhere in the state and negotiate on price for the right weight of the right stuff. I need trim that bad. I am trying to get people served as quickly as possible while longer term sources Relationships are in the works. Call 719 480 0238. A portion of any and all trim purchased goes to provide free phoenix tears to those in need that is why i need good prices. To put goodies into financially challenged cancer and severe illness folks hands. Lets get those free folks their Christmas presents and the paid folks what they deserve. It will make you feel good to give some people tears of joy.

The rest of you who cannot help with actions you may offer you energy to the task. Never underestimate the power of prayer in intercession for someone else. If we focus good vibes on those free peeps and paid peeps their lives can improve exponentially by far more than me just getting Their oil delivered to them. I invite you to join me in that intention…. No, i challenge you to.

Where is the heart that used to beat in this state for the less fortunate? Have you all gone mad with greed? I am willing to pay a fair price so i can give meds away for free. Will no one support me in that cause? Are you all so rich you can laugh at thousands of dollars? Are you all so unmoved by the plight of the less fortunate? Is there no one who believes in me filling hands where mine once needed filled? No one thinks its good to repay kindness by paying
it forward to others?

I just gotta get these people taken care of. For some it means hope to try for another year. There is a couple who lives on the street. One partner has bone cancer and has all but given up. When my oil is there they live as good as they can and enjoy what life they have. Without the oil bone cancer boy gives up. They cant pay and i don’t care. I wanna give them both some hope and quality of life.

There is a writer whom many respect respect within our community whose belly aches him to no end and he cant sleep among other serious issues that are more private. He works hard for our cause but cant afford oil. He is the very picture of a starving writer and artist with a good soul and I wanna get him some rest and comfort so he can continue to serve us all so well.

There is an awesome bud-tend who works for far less than he is worth. The shop he works for sells oil yet it is out of his price range. A grain of rice a day would stop him from needing a diabetic needle yet his pancreas is far overworked. I wanna be sure he can keep giving patients the strains they need with the brain in his head. I have never left his shop with anything other than a strain to treat exactly the conditions I am concerned about that day mostly due to his knowledge that keeps a wide variety of strains for a wide variety of ailments on the shelves and getting into the right hands.

There are Numerous ladies and gents with tumors praying to avoid chemo and folks hoping not to need their noses scraped off their faces Who cant pay and need mercy. How can anyone deny the value of what i”m trying to accomplish? will no one sell me the raw materials i need to enrich these lives. I have shared but the tip of the iceberg.

Someone calls these folks I’m trying to help jewels in my crown. I bristle at the suggestion. I don’t care about jewels in my crown. If the creator blesses me as such that is incidental. I give because i know need better than most and to repay the kindnesses done for me by good people when i had nothing.

I do it because someone needs to and far too many are far too concerned with profit. I do it because these are victims of a corrupt system each and everyone in one way or another.

And i do it because it is in my nature to do it. And to make my murdered son proud of me from where he sits waiting on me in the afterlife and to make his wait have meaning. Help me make these sick people’s wait have meaning too.

So if you have some trim and a heart call me at 719 480 0238 And lets bless some people together. If you have a heart and no trim please just keep these good folks in your thoughts and prayers or however you communicate with the universe offer some strength in the direction of one or more of these people. Don’t direct it at me please. The sick need your love and light far more than i do.

I ask again! Where is the heart that used to beat in this state for the less fortunate? Have you all gone mad with greed? I am willing to pay a fair price so i can give meds away for free. Will no one support me in that cause? Are you all so rich you can laugh at thousands of dollars? Are you all so unmoved by the plight of the less fortunate? Is there no one who believes in me filling hands where mine once needed filled? No one thinks its good to repay kindness by paying it forward to others?

And so I move from being woke in the night, to prayer, to action trying to get some help to those who need it most. Won’t you please help me? I want to buy raw materials to make them medicine. That’s all.

Some Raw Materials images purchased after this post:

This is some sugar out of one of our big bags of trim

GEDSC DIGITAL CAMERA

virtual tokes from my bag to your bowl.....some bud from an oil making bag of raw materials that came from an awesome friend — in Denver, CO.

virtual tokes from my bag to your bowl…..
some bud from an oil making bag of raw materials that came from an awesome friend — in Denver, CO.

You Can't see my pain with your eyes. The only thing that relieves my pain is Cannabis! You could never imagine the pain I suffer, yet you deny me my freedom.

You Can’t see my pain with your eyes. The only thing that relieves my pain is Cannabis! You could never imagine the pain I suffer, yet you deny me my freedom.

Corporate Greed is not Legal Weed! Colorado, Vote NO on 64!

 

I’d like to speak to Colorado for a moment and it’s voters…. I feel I must leave you with the following thoughts regarding how you cast your vote on the Amendment 64 issue in a few days.

For the record, I STILL do NOT SUPPORT COLORADO CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT 64 Corporate Greed IS NOT LEGAL WEED! Vote NO on Colorado State Constitutional Amendment 64! (or at least read the damn bill and see how corporate minded it is and then make up your mind…. don’t listen to the pamphlets or the tv spots… trust your own reasoning after reading the LANGUAGE you are making yourself subject to!)….. Read the bill and think about who they wrote the bill to benefit… their own freaking pocketbooks, that’s who… read the text of the AMMENDMENT (provided in red letters at the link https://kiefair.com/2012/04/15/colorado-canna-relief-or-cannabis-like-alcohol-you-decide/ ) and then decide how to vote… don’t just think “YAY legal weed” and vote… you’re not getting what you think you are babies!

The bill that is written to serve those who already have money (dispensary owners wanting to convert to party stores to sell to recreational users and stop dealing with us “difficult” sick people). If you read the bills closely, it is really easy to see whom they were written to serve…. the Campaign to Regulate Marijuana Like Alcohol serves those already deep in the industry and keeps the grows in corporate hands…. I believe the recreational users should be allowed to grow. It’s just a plant….. When people see the shackles and chains
slapped on them by this bill in reality (the words put into practice) people are going to be just as pissed about these regulations as they are about the regs under hb-1284/sb-109

curious? follow this link and read more: https://www.facebook.com/breezy.kiefair/posts/421373774583285

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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
October 25, 2012

Proponents of Amendment 64 Continue their Smoke Screen of Deceit
Denver, CO: Deceit and deception, the folks behind Amendment 64 are becoming masters of spin. Those that have taken the time to think critically about Amendment 64 have determined that the law continues to criminalize marijuana and that simply removing the word prohibition is just a smoke screen used to hide the fact that people will still go to jail for marijuana possession.
They continue their deceit and word spinning while defending themselves from Roger Sherman’s recent criticism of the findings from Colorado Center on Law & Policy stating that Colorado could see $100 million in revenues by 2017. While ending marijuana “prohibition” would certainly generate more income for the state, an almost laughably obvious point, Amendment 64 still criminalizes marijuana possession and positions the initiative to only benefit those with easy access to the significant investment funds needed to meet the requirements of the initiative. Those wanting to build their business in the true American way of starting small and growing big, will be left out in the lurch and probably end up in jail for trying.
Consider the following statements from some of Amendment 64’s largest proponents:
“we believe that once the people of Colorado end marijuana prohibition in the state by passing Amendment 64, there will be far more thought given to whether it is appropriate to force the state to have marijuana sold to non-patients by drug cartels and other criminal enterprises.” Mason Tvert
Amendment 64 is exclusively for its wealthy backers since everyone else will be suspected of having ties to drug cartels and other criminal enterprises requiring additional resources for law enforcement. It begs to question how many minority and low-income communities will be considered as having ties to drug cartels.
And, here is Art Way’s line by line breakdown of what Roger Sherman said followed by the Denver 420 Rally’s line by line analysis in bold:
“Art Way, Senior Policy Manager for the Drug Policy Alliance in Colorado, is and has been part of that reform. He is a fifth generation native of Denver’s eastside and a virulent advocate for issues impacting his community.”
No, Art Way is a sell out to big business. That is his new community. If he were truly a community advocate he would help those in his community, who by birth into dire circumstances became drug dealers as a means of survival, become legal. Instead he advocates for an initiative that will continue to incriminate those in his community by creating unrealistic limitations on marijuana possession for those choosing to grow six plants and by requiring significant investments to start a legal operation, money that is not easily accessible to minority and low-income communities. The issues that plague Art’s community will continue, only now under the word criminalization instead of prohibition.
“The Legislative Council staff is well-respected. And their analysis is sound. But their analysis is more limited. The CCLP report includes excise tax revenue and the Blue Analysis did not factor in the savings that will be realized when the police and courts no longer enforce prohibition. Legislative Council did not include those two factors.”
Bold faced lie. The courts and law enforcement will still be enforcing a different form of prohibition. Amendment 64 is nothing more than a play on words. It still clearly and quite obviously criminalizes marijuana. So, the Blue Analysis did not factor in the savings from no longer needing to enforce “prohibition” because instead they will still be enforcing the criminal penalties set forth by Amendment-64. Therefore, they will not be realizing the saving that the analysis by the Colorado Center on Law and Policy claims because the Legislative Council sees through the play on words that Amendment 64 uses to deceive the public.
###
Contact: Miguel Lopez, Denver 420 Rally
(720) 338-8766

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I am also very disappointed in the CDPHE for not approving PTSD on the Colorado APPROVED conditions list for a medicinal cannabis card…. THE PEOPLE petitioned to have it added as afforded by Amendment 20. Are you incapable of handling the research? I guess you want our soldiers offing themselves for a job done for their country? You have no heart and no business controlling our medicine.” read more: http://www.gazette.com/articles/veterans-145207-group-marijuana.html

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Colorado Department Of Public Health and Environment website

 Colorado Medical Marijuana Registry Home Page

Information every low income applicant to the Colorado Medical Marijuana Registry should know

2012-02-08 HEY COLORADO DISPENSARIES ~TAX EXEMPT MEANS TAX EXEMPT!

Effective January 1, 2012, the Registry will no longer accept Food Stamp and Supplemental Security Income letters as proof of low-income status.
Patients with a household income that is 185% of the Federal Poverty Level or less, qualify for fee waiver. The chart below indicates the annual household incomes, adjusted for family size, that qualify.
Household incomes at 185% of 2012  Federal Poverty Guidelines*

# in Family Annual Income
1 $20,664.50
2 $27,990.50
3 $35,316.50
4 $42,642.50
5 $49,968.50
6 $57,294.50
7 $64,620.50
8 $71,946.50
Each Additional $ 7,067.00

Source: Federal Register, Vol 75, No. 17, January 26, 2012, ppl 4034-4035

*Poverty guidelines are updated periodically in the Federal Register by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services under the authority of 42 U.S.C. 9902(2)

To apply for a Fee Waiver/Tax Exempt Status, patients must:

1. Request a certified copy of their most current State tax returnfrom the Department of Revenue. Tax returns must be within the last two years to qualify. Patients can request a certified copy of their tax return by completing form DR-5714 ‘Request for Copy of Tax Returns’ available atwww.colorado.gov/cms/forms/dor-tax/dr5714.pdf.pdf logo The form must be completed, notarized and sent to the Colorado Department of Revenue for processing.

2. Complete form MMR1010 Request for Fee Waiver/Tax-Exempt Status. 1010.pdf pdf file .

3. Send the Request for Fee Waiver/Tax-Exempt Status form and the certified copy of the most current State tax return with the patient’s application.

4. Patients who already have a Medical Marijuana Registration Card, may submit form MMR 1010 and a copy of their certified State tax return to have their card status modified to “Tax Exempt.”

You Can’t see my pain with your eyes. The only thing that relieves my pain is Cannabis! You could never imagine the pain I suffer, yet you deny me my freedom. Image by: The Art of Breezy Kiefair for the Reefer Gurl Facebook page

as always, thank you for your time and attention in reading this.

Respectfully,
Breedheen O’Rilley Keefer
AKA Breezy Kiefair

links about breezy
blog

Reefer Gurl “like” page on FB
Gardening Tips for the Medically Damned “like” page on FB
twitter
@breezykiefairbio of breezy:
the short 4 page version:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/64585079/My-Personal-Christmas-Present-to-thethe more in depth, needs editing, 31 page version to help you understand why i sit at my machine fighting the machine day in and day out.http://www.scribd.com/doc/64585829/%E2%80%9CA-Long-Strange-Journey-of-1-Cannabis-Patient%E2%80%99s-Colorado-Cannabis-Activsm%E2%80%9D-or-%E2%80%9CAll-About-Breezy-Kiefair~ Do all that you can to cultivate peace within yourself, that it might
shine out from you, and plant the seed of peace in other spirits, for them
to cultivate.~{Remember… it is when we choose act on the issues that are in front of
our faces, when we choose to get involved instead of looking the other way
as our fellow man struggles, when we choose to take those small simple
little actions, working on righting little wrongs in our everyday lives that
really make change happen, those seemingly small actions are what really
make the world a better place and are a catalyst for greater social change.}
~Both quotes by Breedheen “Bree” O’Rilley Keefer~

 

FAQ’s about Phoenix Tears Therapy for the Beginner

A Heart Filled with love is like a phoenix that no cage can imprison ~Rumi

A Heart Filled with love is like a phoenix that no cage can imprison ~Rumi

There is a cure for cancer and we are here to help you in your pursuit of life.

What if there is an answer to Cancer?

What if doctors already had the knowledge to cure cancer? What if that answer to cancer was a plant easily grown both indoors and out. These are not hypothetical “what if’s” There is an answer to cancer, that answer is Phoenix Tears.

What Are Phoenix Tears?

Quite simply, Phoenix Tears are a potent, concentrated form of the cannabis plant.  This therapy is also known as R.S.O (Rick Simpson Oil), Cannabis Cure Oil, Run From the Cure Oil, F.E.C.O (Fully Extracted Cannabis Oil), Ronnie Smith Oil, Jamaican Hash Oil (like you used to get “back in the day”) Cannabis extract, or simply hash oil. Whatever you call it, it is strong medicine that cures most cancers and can treat many disorders/diseases in the body.

Have Questions? You are Not Alone…

I hope I can offer you a few answers about Cannabis Cure Oil

I get a lot of questions about Phoenix Tears Therapy from people who know very little about cannabis or the healing process with Phoenix Tears Therapy. Therefore, I have decided to provide some information here on the blog to make it easier for everyone.

If you do not know what phoenix tears are or that they cure cancer, or have never heard that cannabis oil can treat and cure a wide variety of diseases, please take time to acquaint yourself with the following information/videos. I have made every attempt to quote my sources wherever appropriate.

2 ounces of oil, eaten over a 90-day time period is the cure for most cancers.  For some patients,it takes less oil/duration of therapy, for others, it takes more. If a patient can tolerate the psychoactive effects of the medication, they should eat as much as they can as quickly as they can.

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What if cannabis cured cancer?

Could the chemicals found in marijuana prevent and even heal several deadly cancers? Could the tumor regulating properties of cannabinoids someday replace the debilitating drugs, chemotherapy, and radiation that harms as often as it heals? Discover the truth about this ancient medicine as world renowned scientists in the field of cannabinoid research explain and illustrate their truly mind-blowing discoveries. QUOTES: “What If Cannabis Cured Cancer summarizes the remarkable research findings of recent years about the cancer-protective effects of novel compounds in marijuana. Most medical doctors are not aware of this information and its implications for prevention and treatment. If we need more evidence that our current policy on cannabis is counterproductive and foolish, here it is.” -Andrew Weil, M.D. “A hugely important film” – Julie Holland, M.D. NYU School of Medicine

As the documentary explains, cannabis grew prolifically during ancient times and is thought to be mankind’s firs cultivated plant. Whether it was ground up and used as an ancient ingredient or simply eaten whole, marijuana was thought to be a component of ancient man’s diet, as well as one of his most trusted tools. As recently as the 1940’s, the US government grew marijuana over hundreds of acres and used it to make the ropes on America’s naval warships during World War 2.

In the 1800’s, medical journals published more than one hundred articles touting the benefits and uses of marijuana. The film insists that during the days of house-call-making doctors, marijuana was a part of every physician’s medical bag. One of the most widely prescribed treatments by doctors a century and a half ago, it was used to counter complaints such as labor pains, asthma, rheumatism, nervous disorders, colic in babies and menstrual cramps.

Today, even with the limited testing allowed by the world’s governments, marijuana is inspiring new medical discoveries and unlocking the mysteries of the human body. Some of the quotes put forth in the documentary by experts in the medical marijuana field include, “This group of chemicals has significant anti-tumor properties”, “Cannabis kills cancer cells, in many cases”, “They have anti-tumor effects” and “We know that it kills cancer cells without hurting the non-transformed cells”.

The documentary goes on to remind viewers that marijuana has already been proven to have anti-inflammatory, anti-spasmodic and anti-bacterial properties – some of the most pharmaceutically-prescribed ailments in America today. The plant’s chemical effects have also proved to safely and successfully treat depression, traumatic stress syndrome, chronic pain, glaucoma, migraine headaches, multiple sclerosis, turrets, nausea and more – all without the deadly and dangerous side effects accompanying pharmaceutical drugs.

click here for reference 

or

visit the following url:

http://www.whiteoutpress.com/articles/q12012/does-marijuana-cure-cancer617/

What if there is an answer to Cancer Video Playlist
At the below link, you will find a youtube playlist of pro-Phoenix Tears therapy/medicinal cannabis videos regarding cancer and other diseases for all them Marijana Men and Reefer Gurls out there as well as for all those poor souls stuck needing Gardening Tips for the Medically Damned because their bodies are falling apart. The Art of Breezy Kiefair includes the healing arts.  I have been working on expanding this post to include further details and resources because the initial post was so well received. I thank you for your kind shares and likes on this post. It is my sincerest hope that this does answer some questions for people. If you have a video suggestion to add to the list, please let me know (the list is in no way complete, I am just running out of strength for the day). If you have a question that I missed, please ask it on the post so that all may benefit from whatever answer I may be able to dig up. Thanks again all my friends, fans and fiends. Virtual tokes to those who need them, and as always, have a blessed day. (added 11/1/2012)

What if there is an answer to Cancer video playlist

url:

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwc43UiVjiuc6fDvfXM7kxHTtESzHzmOj

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Medical Marijuana Mice

Most of the evidence available about this amazing treatment is anecdotal, however the visual images of the healing are stunning and hard to ignore, even when it is the lowly lab mouse showing us what it can do.

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Have Questions? You are Not Alone…

I hope I can offer you a few answers about Cannabis Cure Oil

I get a lot of questions about Phoenix Tears Therapy from people who know very little about cannabis or the healing process with Phoenix Tears Therapy. Therefore, I have decided to provide some information here on the blog to make it easier for everyone.

If you do not know what phoenix tears are or that they cure cancer, or have never heard that cannabis oil can treat and cure a wide variety of diseases, please take time to acquaint yourself with the following information/videos. I have made every attempt to quote my sources wherever appropriate.

2 ounces of oil, eaten over a 90-day time period is the cure for most cancers.  For some patients,it takes less oil/duration of therapy, for others, it takes more. If a patient can tolerate the psychoactive effects of the medication, they should as much as they can as quickly as they can.

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Let’s begin with a bit of my personal cancer history

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anyone else notice the big lump on the left? look just above the leaves over my shoulder. It began as a lump behind my left ear the ulcer on the top of the head has been there off and on since I was about 9 years old… it would heal up and reopen unexpectedly years later.
there is a cure for cancer… how many beautiful women need butchered because doctors wanna run from the cure for the sake of monetary gain… are you curious about the cure?

I have a genetic disorder that gives me an extremely high tolerance, and I ate 4-10 grams a day for about a month and cured my cancer. VERY few individuals can tolerate that much oil that quickly. It is not going to kill you  no matter how much you take (given that the tears have been made properly and no solvents remain). Most people just can’t take as much as I did and function on any level. I am a unique case on several levels, so my path and speed down that path need not be yours. You know your own body better than anyone else does (with the exception of your understanding of a creator if you have one.) You should be your own judge of what your body needs.

I am not a doctor or licensed herbalist. I am just a lady who has travelled this path trying to offer information to other people considering walking down this path of their own free will.

Just this August, I had cancer for the fourth time.

I fought with myself for a long time about even going to a doctor. MY FREE WILL said that a doctor visit is only a diagnostic tool…. I knew I would not be allowing any cutting… I would not be allowing any chemo… I seriously doubted I’d even submit to imaging (radiation of its own).  Another part of me thought that perhaps I would find some benefit from seeing a western medicine doctor for my cancer… I have had it 3 times before… Still, it was not as if I did not know what I was in for…. I make the cure… I’m was left wondering what to do or to think about it, and it was torture for me and everyone I am connected with…. I made up my own damn mind as always (would you expect anything less?) but, took wise take counsel in many forms before coming to a decision… I hate doctors with a passion, but for the good of my sanity and those around me, I went to the doctor. He said “malignant”, and I went home to eat oil.

I began using the phoenix tears therapy in November 2011 ( 1 drop – 1/4 gram of cannabis oil per day) to aid in the agony that had been diagnosed as “fibromyalgia” (a misdiagnosis, but we will get to that part of the tale later) Even before I went in to see the doctor, I had been stepping up my dosing of phoenix tears from my previous dosing.

On August 20, 2012, my facebook status message read:

my mission for the day? do good and try to heal my own body (we have not gone into a doc, but the phoenix tears is pulling some “very bad things” out of me) We have not decided if a trip to see an oncologist is in order, and even if it is in order, i’m not sure i wanna go see the butchers, submit to the diagnostic torture, and fight with them about my alternative therapy choices… so is my remission at an end or not? does it really matter? the answer is the same… I live in a house that makes the cure…. So I will be doing high dose phoenix tears therapy until all these masses are gone… By the way, I have DVD copies of Run From The Cure available for anyone who needs them… I intend to hand them out free at hospitals and Run for the Cure events……

I fulfilled that mission. I have given out at least 50 free copies of the “Run from the Cure” that I had paid a company to make for me. I still have around 50 to go. Some went to dispensaries (as you would expect), some were handed out in the doctor’s office(s) I visited, others went to health food stores, some went to herbalists and naturopathic healers, some went to people I happened to speak to in the grocery store line, more went in random places where it was up to fate to decide whose hands the video ended up in… like outside of tobacco shops, liquor stores, and gambling dens. 

After a conversation with a Dude collecting donations for homeless vets. Before giving, I made sure the vets are allowed to medicate with weed. They are and brother man has his red card.I donated $108 to his cause when I meant to donate $9… there is a benjamin doing good things for homeless vets… wow am i glad i asked if they had a place for the vets to use their canna-medicine if they have a colorado license to do so… 

I had to shave the back of my head to make topical application of the cannabis oil thinned slightly with olive oil an easier thing to do. I remembered a haircut that had been popular in my youth, and secure in the knowledge that my treatment would not make my hair fall out, I only shaved the back of my head. If I wore a scarf, no one could tell that the back of my head was so lumpy, uneven and working on using the cancer cure. But it wasn’t just a mass on the back of my head, I also had a mass in my left breast and small masses in various other parts of my body (along the lymphatic system’s pathways).  My digestive tract was so messed up that I have lived on a liquid diet almost exclusively from March 2012-the present (although I have recently been able to eat/digest more solid food). There were a ton of other symptoms as well. It was agony. By taking the phoenix tears in very high doses, I was able to eliminate all the masses the doctors had found. They were shocked, amazed, and educated by my “miraculous healing”. They had given me about a month to live, and within that month, I made all the cancer go away using cannabis oil.

On September 24, 2012 at 10:46pm my Facebook status proudly read:

Doc says I am cancer free…. Doc said the remaining portion of the mass on the back of my head is acute muscle tension (thank you fibro). Doc says my doggie gave me a minor head injury while playing with me… doc also says I have Acute Pancreatitis and need to be on bed-rest and clear liquids for a while….. I was afraid of people showing up at the er, so I had to say it was a bud of mine and not me…. They wanted to keep me at the hospital for a few days to control the pain and ensure I was ok, but I just couldn’t handle that and I know I can get a shit-ton of things done on bedrest at home where as I couldn’t get jack and shit done at the hospital…. Thanks for the love and support guys…. I needed it and still do….

Issues with my gut continued. I was diagnosed later with pancreatitis, then colitis, and finally a root cause to all my pain was discovered. I have a rare genetic disease called Familial Mediterranean Fever. Sadly, cannabis cannot cure a defect in my genes (to my knowledge) but it remains an important part of my pain control regimen to ensure I function. You can read more about my crazy genes by clicking this paragraph.

The good news is I can eat solid foods again (sometimes) and I am getting a lot more sleep than I have been capable of in years with the addition of the new treatment based on the diagnosis of Familial Mediterranean Fever.

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Even harry pot-head (i mean potter) knows Phoenix Tears have healing powers!!!


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Still Curious about the Cure for Cancer? Read ON!

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Is there a difference between Hemp and Cannabis?

Yes and no… Hemp generally refers to either the male plant or the portions of the plant used for their fiber. Cannabis generally refers to the female plant and the portions of the plant used for it’s psychoactive and healing effects.

Merriam-Webster definitions of Hemp and Cannabis:

hemp

noun ˈhemp

1

a : a tall widely cultivated Asian herb
(Cannabis sativa of the family Cannabaceae, the hemp family)
that has a tough bast fiber used especially for cordage
and that is often separated into a tall loosely branched species (C. sativa)
and a low-growing densely branched species (C. indica)

b : the fiber of hemp

c : a psychoactive drug (as marijuana or hashish) from hemp

2

: a fiber (as jute) from a plant other than the true hemp;

also: a plant yielding such fiber

Origin of HEMP

Middle English, from Old English hænep;

akin to Old High German hanaf hemp,

Greek kannabis

First Known Use: before 12th century

Definition of CANNABIS

1
: hemp 1a
2
: any of the preparations (as marijuana or hashish) or chemicals (as THC) that are derived from the hemp
and are psychoactive

Origin of CANNABIS

Latin, hemp, from Greek kannabis; akin to Old English hænephemp

First Known Use: 1783

Author’s note ~ there is so much more to know on the origin of the word Cannabis!!!

If you do your homework on cannabis well,
you should have come across kaneh-bosim (Hebrew קְנֵה-בֹשֶׂם)

The anthropologist Sula Benet did a lot of work
on the etymology of this word and it’s association
with Old Testament biblical recipe for
Holy Anointing Oil given in Exodus 30:22-25.

The term sweet calamus was mistranslated
and put in place of Kaneh-Bosim
when King James of england commissioned a new translation (circa 1604-1611).

Benet’s writings have gained modern notability[citation needed]
for her interpretations of the herb appearing in
Hebrew text as kaneh-bosim (Hebrew קְנֵה-בֹשֶׂם)
five times in the Hebrew Bible and how it
relates to the religious use of cannabis.
Kaneh-bosm is mentioned twice as part of
the holy anointing oil used in the temple,
and has been interpreted traditionally as calamus
(an herb that is known in North American shamanism
and in vedic atharva and has been discovered in
modern times to contain a molecule known as Asarone
that is a precursor of trimethoxyamphetamine, a psychedelic).
Through comparative etymology, analysis of ancient texts
(including pre-Hebrew Semitic language), a
nd pharmacological consistencies she contends that
the word kaneh-bosm actually refers to cannabis
and was used in ancient Jewish religious rites,
as a medicine and ritual sacrament.
Benet’s work claims that cannabis use has a long culturally important history,
and that the criminalization and demonization of cannabis is a recent invention
(an occurrence of the previous century compared to Torah: dating back at least 3,000 years).
While Benet’s conclusion regarding the psychoactive use of cannabis
are not generally recognized among Jewish scholars,
there is general agreement that hemp (“Kaneh”)
is used in talmudic sources to refer to hemp fibers,
as hemp was a vital commodity before linen replaced it.[1]
Benet claims that traditional identifications of kaneh bosom
do not account for hemp shirts being produced from industrial hemp,
which Benet claims is “Kaneh” in Hebrew.[2]
Benet claims that this kaneh differs from the “fragrant” or “sweet” hemp
called especially kaneh bosm, because the latter
produces much more of aromatic and psychotropic substances like CBD and THC.[2] [3]
reference url: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sula_Benet


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Is Hemp SEED oil the same as the cannabis cure oil?

NO! they are produced in entirely different methods from different parts and even different sexes of the plant!!! While I do recommend people cook with hemp seed oil whenever possible, It is not the cure for cancer. It is “health food” because   its 3:1 ratio of omega-6 to omega-3 essential fatty acids, which matches the balance required by the human body.

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What is Hemp Seed Oil?

__________

Click here for reference 
Not to be confused with hash oil.
Bottles of hempseed oil

Hemp oil or hempseed oil is obtained by pressing hemp seeds. Cold pressed, unrefined hemp oil is dark to clear light green in color, with a pleasant nutty flavour. The darker the color, the grassier the flavour.

Refined hempseed oil is clear and colorless, with little flavor and lacks natural vitamins and antioxidants. Refined hempseed oil is primarily used in body care products. Industrial hempseed oil is used in lubricants, paints, inks, fuel, and plastics. Hempseed oil has found some limited use in the production of soaps, shampoos and detergents. The oil is of high nutritional value because its 3:1 ratio of omega-6 to omega-3 essential fatty acids, which matches the balance required by the human body.[1] It has also received attention in recent years as a possible feedstock for the large-scale production of biodiesel.[2][3] There are a number of organisations that promote the production and use of hempseed oil.[4]

Hemp seed oil (right)

Hempseed oil is manufactured from varieties of Cannabis sativa that do not contain significant amounts of THC, the psychoactive element present in the cannabis plant. This manufacturing process typically includes cleaning the seed to 99.99% before pressing the oil. There is no THC within the hempseed, although trace amounts of THC may be found in hempseed oil when plant matter adheres to the seed surface during manufacturing. The modern production of hempseed oil, particularly in Canada, has successfully lowered THC values since 1998.[5]

Hash oil, not to be confused with hempseed oil, is used for both medicinal and recreational purposes and made from the mature female flowers and leaves of the drug cannabis, thus having a much higher THC content. Hash oil should not be confused with hemp, as the modern usage of the word ‘hemp’ is reserved for plants that meet the legal requirement of containing 0.3% THC or less.[citation needed]

Nutrition

Main article: hemp

Hempseeds from which hempseed oilcan be extracted

About 30–35% of the weight of hempseed is an edible oil that contains about 80% as essential fatty acids (EFAs); i.e., linoleic acid,omega-6 (LA, 55%), alpha-linolenic acidomega-3 (ALA, 22%), in addition to gamma-linolenic acidomega-6 (GLA, 1–4%) andstearidonic acidomega-3 (SDA, 0–2%).

The proportions of linoleic acid and alpha-linolenic acid in one tablespoon per day (15 ml) of hempseed oil easily provides human daily requirements for EFAs. Unlike flaxseed oil, hempseed oil can be used continuously without developing a deficiency or other imbalance of EFAs. This has been demonstrated in a clinical study, where the daily ingestion of flaxseed oil decreased the endogenous production of GLA.[6]

In common with other oils, hempseed oil provides 9 kcal/g. Compared with other culinary oils it is low in saturated fatty acids.[7]

Highly unsaturated oils, and especially poor quality oils, can spontaneously oxidize and turn rancid within a short period of time when they are not stored properly; i.e., in a cool/cold, dark place, preferably in a dark glass bottle. Hempseed oil can be frozen for longer periods of storage time. Preservatives (antioxidants) are not necessary for high-quality oils that are stored properly.

Hempseed oil has a relatively low smoke point and is not suitable for frying. Hempseed oil is primarily used as a food oil and dietary supplement, and has been shown to relieve the symptoms of eczema (atopic dermatitis).[8]

Benefits

Hemp is a high protein seed containing all nine of the essential amino acids (like flax). It also has high amounts of fatty acids and fiber as well as containing vitamin E and trace minerals. It has a balanced ratio of omega 3 to 6 fats at around a three to one ratio. This won’t help correct your omega balance if it’s off, but it gives you the right balance to start with.

Further the protein content of the hemp seed is supposed to be very digestible. Many people noted their personal experience of finding that hemp seed protein did not cause bloating or gas, like some of their whey, or other protein shakes did.

And, get this, unlike soy which has super high amounts of phytic acid (that anti-nutrient that prevents us from absorbing minerals), hemp seed doesn’t contain phytic acid. At the very least, this makes hemp seed a step up from soy.

The Body Ecology Diet site has an article discussing hemp here.

It contains a list of benefits including what I mentioned above plus including some others as well.

Hemp contains:

* All 20 amino acids, including the 9 essential amino acids (EAAs) our bodies cannot produce.
* A high protein percentage of the simple proteins that strengthen immunity and fend off toxins.
* Eating hemp seeds in any form could aid, if not heal, people suffering from immune deficiency diseases. This conclusion is supported by the fact that hemp seed has been used to treat nutritional deficiencies brought on by tuberculosis, a severe nutrition blocking disease that causes the body to waste away.3
* Nature’s highest botanical source of essential fatty acid, with more essential fatty acid than flax or any other nut or seed oil.
* A perfect 3:1 ratio of Omega-6 Linoleic Acid and Omega-3 Linolenic Acid – for cardiovascular health and general strengthening of the immune system.
* A superior vegetarian source of protein considered easily digestible.
* A rich source of phytonutrients, the disease-protective element of plants with benefits protecting your immunity, bloodstream, tissues, cells, skin, organs and mitochondria.
* The richest known source of polyunsaturated essential fatty acids.

This article claims that because hemp’s protein is in the globulin edistin form it is a superior source of protein. It ends that thought with this paragraph.

“The best way to insure the body has enough amino acid material to make the globulins is to eat foods high in globulin proteins. Since hemp seed protein is 65% globulin edistin, and also includes quantities of albumin, its protein is readily available in a form quite similar to that found in blood plasma. Eating hemp seeds gives the body all the essential amino acids required to maintain health, and provides the necessary kinds and amounts of amino acids the body needs to make human serum albumin and serum globulins like the immune enhancing gamma globulins. Eating hemp seeds could aid, if not heal, people suffering from immune deficiency diseases. This conclusion is supported by the fact that hemp seed was used to treat nutritional deficiencies brought on by tuberculosis, a severe nutrition blocking disease that causes the body to waste away. [Czechoslovakia Tubercular Nutritional Study, 1955] “

reference for above centered “benefits section):

 http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/2009/03/hemp-seed-nutritional-value-and-thoughts.html

[edit]Wood finish

Hemp oil is a “drying oil”, as it can polymerize into a solid form. Due to its polymer-forming properties, hemp oil is used on its own or blended with other oils, resins, and solvents as an impregnator and varnish in wood finishing, as a pigment binder in oil paints, as a plasticizer and hardener in putty. It has uses similar to Linseed oil and characteristics similar totung oil.[9]

click here for reference information for the above hemp seed oil portion of the post

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Foods to avoid to heal Cancer more effectively:

Red meat and refined sugars are a bad idea. If you need more protein, I suggest eating raw shelled hemp seeds. Any vegetarian having trouble getting enough protein in their diet should buy some. A serving of 3 tablespoons packs 10 grams of protein! If you have a sweet tooth, try to stay away from the white sugar and any sugars that have been through a lengthy refining process. Natural sugars such as honey or molasses and naturally occurring sugars in fruit are a good option.

Red Meat

A March 2012 study from Harvard School of Public Health (HSPH) researchers has found that red meat consumption is associated with an increased risk of total, cardiovascular, and cancer mortality. The results also showed that substituting other healthy protein sources, such as fish, poultry, nuts, and legumes, was associated with a lower risk of mortality.

click here to learn more

Refined Sugar

n 1931, German biologist Otto Heinrich Warburg won a Nobel Prize for his research into the causes of cancer. In his studies, Warburg found that cancerous tumors fueled their growth through the metabolism of glucose — digested sugar. Although some scientists rejected Warburg’s theories for many decades, recent studies have drawn connections between different types of cancer and refined sugar intake.

Insulin Resistance and Cancer

The pancreas works with your digestive system to produce the hormone insulin, which aids in the metabolism of glucose. When you eat carbohydrates, the pancreas automatically releases insulin to help break the carbs down into glucose to fuel your cells. If you are insulin-resistant and eating a diet of primarily high-glycemic foods, your pancreas becomes overworked and cannot keep up with the demand for insulin, allowing glucose to build up in your bloodstream. Insulin resistance increases your risk of several diseases, including Type 2 diabetes, heart disease and some cancers. To prevent cancer, the World Cancer Research Fund and the American Institute for Cancer Research recommended against consuming sugary beverages and snacks in a 2007 report.

Research into Specific Cancers

Many later studies have shown a direct connection between insulin resistance, high-glycemic diets and certain types of cancer. In a study of more than 2,500 women published in the “Annals of Oncology” in 2001, the findings supported a connection between insulin resistance and breast cancer development. Another study published in the “American Journal of Epidemiology” in 2006 followed 16,000 Norwegian men for 27 years and found insulin resistance to be a predictor of prostate cancer. An analysis of a study conducted in Italy from 1986 to 1992 published in the “Annals of Oncology” in 2008 drew a link between high-glycemic diets and thyroid cancer risk.

http://www.livestrong.com/article/465680-refined-sugar-cancer/#ixzz2B0y79ySl

click here to learn more

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How Much Oil Should the Patient take?

Beginning dosing of this medication is truly tiny for most individuals. The patient should eat their doses, not smoke them. I have had people who have smoked their tears out of desperation due to a lack of cannabis flowers, but it does not do you nearly as much good to smoke it. If you are in severe pain, the lungs can be the fastest way for the medication to begin to ease it, but this method does not offer the deeper levels of healing that eating it can give you.

Tears made properly have been through a process known as decarboxylation that makes the compounds within the cannabis plant more easily used by the body’s endocannabinoid system when ingested. Be careful not to overheat your medication either. You lose your active compounds if you cook with too much heat. Never store your cannabis oil in the sunshine, though it does not need to be refrigerated (it actually becomes too thick to get out of the oral syringe if it is too cold…) if your meds won’t flow from the syringe, try putting upright in a cup of warm water for 10-15 minutes. Be sure the syringe opening is pointing towards the ceiling  You don’t want the hassle of trying to reclaim your tears from the cup of water)

The term “decarboxylation” literally means removal of the COOH (carboxyl group) and its replacement with a proton. The term simply relates the state of the reactant and product. Decarboxylation is one of the oldest organic reactions, since it often entails simple pyrolysis, and volatile products distill from the reactor. Heating is required because the reaction is less favorable at low temperatures. Yields are highly sensitive to conditions. In retrosynthesis, decarboxylation reactions can be considered the opposite of homologation reactions, in that the chain length becomes one carbon shorter. Metals, especially copper compounds,[1] are usually required. Such reactions proceed via the intermediacy of metal carboxylate complexes.

Beginners should ingest 1/2-1 grain of rice sized dab of oil 2-3 times a day. Doses must be increased with the patient’s tolerance.

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How many grams to a milliliter of phoenix tears oil?

I do NOT recommend people be on the oil and chemotherapy/radiation at the same time they are on the oil. When people do that, the oil spends all its time repairing the damage that the chemo/radiation caused within their body and does not seem to fight the cancer as effectively (takes more oil and a longer duration of therapy if they are determined to keep up with the “big pharma” solutions.) I have seen people who made the choice to stay on chemo and they still got better on the oil… It is all a matter of free will in the end.
I guess the point of that is: Don’t make the oil’s job any harder than it already is by introducing more poison into the system.

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Side Effects of the oil?

Some patients find it a bad idea to take the oil on an empty stomach (usually people who have issues with SEVERE nausea anyway). Those patients should take their doses with a meal. Some patients find the taste undesirable  For those patients, I recommend either putting the oil in a vegetable capsule (almost any vitamin shop or health food store carries empty ones) or they could put the dose on a piece of bread and swallow it like a pill.

Most patients start with a dab of oil that is about the size of a grain of rice (and for some people, even that is too potent because they dislike the psychoactive effects… those individuals begin on 1/2 of a grain of rice sized dose)
This dose should be taken 2-3 times a day until the patient begins to notice a drop off in the psychoactive effects and/or a drop off in the ways the oil had been helping.

For many patients, they notice a drop off in the appetite stimulation at this point. When the patient reaches this treatment plateau, you begin increasing the dose amount (within the patient’s tolerance for the oil/psychoactive effects)
The goal is to reach a total weight of one gram per day. The syringes I fill are clearly marked with 1ml graduations. 1ml=1.2 grams of oil.

Some patients have experienced visual hallucinations on this medication. This can be quite unnerving the first time it happens, however most of the patients I have dealt with describe very pleasant “trips” such as sitting on a cloud and speaking with their creator or having the feeling of balls of light invading the body and healing them. Hallucinations tend to happen more often in older patients and in patients who have no prior experience with cannabis (never even smoked a joint). If the patient finds the hallucinations uncomfortable or wants to avoid the experience, reduce dosing until a tolerance is built.

Some patients find they will run a fever off and on during the therapy. Often it is localized to the area where the cancer is (warm to the to the touch) I am a firm believer in letting a fever run it’s course unless it gets to a level where it is dangerously high {about 104 for adults or sustained 102 (constant not up and down) for a few days….} and even then there are plenty of non-big pharma ways to lower the temp…. several herbs do the trick well…. there are even plenty of non-chemical ways to lower a dangerous fever. Most people reach for the tylenol if they are even a degree above what they think they should be… they are damaging their liver and not even giving their immune system the benefit of the purpose of a fever… to help your immune system get rid of whatever invader it is responding to. click here for wikipedia article on fevers

This medication is psychoactive and there is really no way around “feeling high” while you are on it. People who hate the psychoactive effects should take their largest dose of medication primarily at night when they want to sleep anyway. Caregivers should be aware of a fall hazard to the patient. Some people it makes a bit unsteady on their feet, especially when getting up for the bathroom at night. For males with this issue, I recommend a bedside urinal to reduce the danger of a fall. Same solution works for ladies (a bedpan) but fewer women are willing to use a bedpan than men are willing to use a urinal.

If you are ingesting cannabis oil that has been made properly at all, You WILL test positive for cannabis use on any drug test. Most regular cannabis smokers know that you will test positive for weed for about 30 days after smoking it. It is important to note that the 30 days rule of thumb DOES NOT APPLY TO CANNABIS OIL. Those who have ingested cannabis oil (particularly at high doses) could test positive for cannabis in a drug test up to 90 days after the treatment has stopped.

What Solvent to use?

What solvent you use to create your cannabis oil is very important. If you are thinking of making your own oil, please take the time to educate yourself on the benefits and risks of any solvent you are thinking of using.

I recommend use of food grade alcohol and nothing else for beginners (because the solvent is already food grade, it is good for beginners who are learning the method… that way, IF any solvent is left behind due to inexperience, it is still safe to consume. Those proficient with use of alcohol as a solvent may then begin using isopropyl alcohol 91% (rubbing alcohol) once they have learned to tell when no solvent remains. If you use a still, you can reclaim your solvent for reuse to cut down on costs.

There have been cases of people eating cold water extracted hash or kief and seeing benefits as well. You just have to eat a higher volume of those substances because they are in a less concentrated form.

Butane

 Someone actually said to me….. ” Butane is so safe,it is used in food with no label”

Is that why I (and many others) cannot tolerate butane extracted hash? is that why it makes my body ache every time I smoke it? again… I will follow my common sense and you follow yours….

“Despite its usefulness, butane is also a toxic chemical. Inhalation of the gas can lead to drowsiness, narcosis, cardiac arrhythmia, frostbite, and death from asphyxiation, acute toxicity, and ventricular fibrillation. Butane inhalation is the most common single cause of solvent-related death. Thus, butane needs to be handled with care.”
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Butane

Naphtha

I do not believe that Naphtha should be used to create this medication for ANYONE. I have received a great deal of hate for taking this position, however this substance is dangerous on MANY levels and I cannot in good conscience stop educating people on it’s dangers when others are actively encouraging its use. Many people have subtle or undiagnosed multiple chemical sensitivities. There are many reasons Naphtha is not a healthy solvent. I encourage you to read this post that speaks in detail about the dangers (just click this sentence)

and watch this video:

Please also be sure to read the commentary on both versions of this video. I kindly call it a debate, but anyone who reads it will see that I have taken a great deal of heat for educating people to the dangers of using the petrochemical naphtha  to create cannabis oil.

Commentary on the first version of the video.

Commentary on the second version of the video.

 

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Cannabis Oil Stains/Cleanup

This oil will stain fabric and just about anything you get it on. It can be very difficult to clean up when spilled. ISO alcohol is the best method I have found to clean up spills and messes. It does not always take stains out of fabric (time is of the essence in treating those stains), but it is excellent for cleaning up spills just about everywhere else. Syringes I provide have a toothpick in the opening of the syringe that MUST be removed prior to pressing on the plunger to get your dose. Keep that toothpick in the syringe when not actually taking a dose to reduce medication loss. You should also release some of the pressure on the plunger (by pulling it back out some post dose time) every time you use it for the same reason. Putting oil in capsules, and the capsules in a pill bottle is the most effective way  I have found to dose “on the go” (while the patient is away from home, i.e. out running errands).

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Ronnie Smith taught me how to make the oil. Mr. Smith has been making the Cannabis oil for 6 years and has seen over 250 of his patients be cured by this amazing plant gifted to the animal kingdom by the loving creator responsible for us all. Mr. Smith of marijuanaman.com provides the following information sheet to his patients.

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Hemp Oil Dosage Information

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It takes the average person about 90 days to ingest the full 60 gram treatment. I suggest that people start with 3 doses per day about half the size of a grain of dry rice. A dose such as this would equal about ¼ of a drop. After four days at this dosage, increase your doses every four days until you are at the point where you are ingesting about 1 gram in 24 hours, so each dose should equal 1/3 of a gram.

It takes the average person about 5 weeks to get to the point where they can ingest a gram per day. Once they reach this dosage they can continue at this rate until the cancer disappears. A gram is 1.2 milliliters.

By using this method it allows the body to build up its tolerance slowly, in fact, I have many reports from people who took the oil treatment and never got ‘high’. We all have different tolerances for any medication. Your size and body weight have little to do with your tolerance for hemp oil.

Be aware when commencing treatment with hemp oil that it will lower your blood pressure, so if you are currently taking blood pressure medication, it is very likely that you will no longer need it.

When people are taking the oil, I like to see them stay within their comfort zone, but the truth is, the faster you take the oil the better the chance of surviving. At the end of their treatment most people continue taking the oil but at a much reduced rate. 6 to 12 grams a year would be a good maintenance dose. I do not like to see people overdosing on the oil, but an overdose does no harm. The main side effect of this medication is sleep and rest which plays an important role in the healing process. Usually, within an hour or so of taking a dose, the oil is telling you to lay down and relax. Don’t fight the sleepy feeling, just lay down and go with it. Usually within a month, the daytime tiredness associated with this treatment fades away but the patient continues to sleep very well at night. The only time I would recommend that people start out with larger doses would be to get off addictive and dangerous pain medications. When people who are using such medications begin the oil treatment, they usually cut their pain medications in half. The object is to take enough oil to take care of the pain and to help the patient get off these dangerous pharmaceutical drugs. Taking the oil makes it much easier for the patient to get off these addictive chemicals.

I simply tell people the oil will do one of two things; it will either cure your cancer or in cases where it is too late to affect a cure, the oil will ease their way out and they can at least die with dignity. Hemp oil has a very high success rate in the treatment of cancer; unfortunately many people who come to me have been badly damaged by the medical system with their chemo and radiation etc. The damage such treatments cause have a lasting effect and people who have suffered the effects of such treatments are the hardest to cure. It should also be mentioned that the oil rejuvenates vital organs like the pancreas. Many diabetics who have taken the oil find that after about six weeks on the oil that they no longer require insulin since their pancreas is again doing its job. Properly made hemp medicine is the greatest healer on this planet bar none. Once you experience what this medication can do you will understand why history and I call hemp medicine a cure all.

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A bit of Cancer poetry for thought…

To Whom It May Concern
I was run over by the truth one day.
Ever since the diagnosis I have been this way
So burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer.

Heard the alarm clock screaming with pain,
Couldn’t find myself so I went back to sleep again
So fill my veins with Chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. Every time I shut my eyes, all I see is pain.
Made a little ribbon to remember all the names
So empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer.I hear they are thinking surgery, hope it’s not my brains.
They’re only cuttin wishes and feeding casket sales
So numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank  account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer.Where were you at the time of the crime?
Ripping up the hippocratic oath, just to make a dime?
So chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer
You put your doctors in, they take their conscience out,
They take the human being and they twist it all about
So take my world away
chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer— 
There is a cure for cancer…
how many beautiful women and men need to be butchered
because doctors want to run from the cure
for the sake of monetary gain?

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Thinking of beginning on this therapy for yourself or a loved one?  Please be sure that the patient and the patient’s caregiver have seen the “Run from the Cure” movie and are willing to ingest cannabis.

Do you need a DVD copy of the video to show a loved one who does not have internet access?  Click Here to order a copy for $2 plus the cost of shipping.

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Here is a video of how to make the oil.

 Please also visit the text tutorial here:

http://phoenixtears.ca/make-the-medicine/

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Keep Reading for more Information on this therapy, 

 

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What It Does & How It Works

excerpt from link:

If you are looking for a safe medication, look no further than what the hemp plant can provide. On top of all that it’s a medicine we can all grow and produce ourselves. Also there is no need for a doctor’s supervision with its use.

When the hemp plant is grown for medicinal use, you now have your own medical system that is much safer and effective than anything our current medical system provides. You still may require a doctor to set your broken leg, but you will no longer need the chemicals they have been pushing upon us.

Hemp is medicine for the masses and no one has the right to control its use. We are all different and we all have different tolerances for practically everything. So it is up to each and every one of us to determine for ourselves how much oil we require to maintain good health.

Over the years people have come to me who after years of treatment by the medical system did not even have a diagnosis for their conditions. But the oil exercised its amazing healing power and their medical problems were solved.

Another aspect of the use of hemp as medicine is its anti-aging properties. As we age, our vital organs deteriorate and of course this impairs the function of these organs.

Hemp oil rejuvenates vital organs even in small doses it is very common for people to report to me that they feel 20 to 30 years younger after only ingesting the oil for a short time.

Now let’s take it to the next level. What about people who ingest larger quantities of oil over a longer period of time like myself? After 9 years on the oil my body does not appear to be that of a 60 year old man. Instead, my body has the appearance of someone who is a great deal younger. When I have the oil at my disposal I like to take about a quarter of a gram a day. Of course, due to short supply, quite often I must go without so my own treatment has been erratic to say the least.

From my own experience with the oil I cannot help but wonder what would happen if a person was to ingest larger quantities of oil over a longer period of time. If a person were to do this, can they actually reverse the aging process and grow younger instead of aging.

From the oils effect on my own body by all appearances this seems to be the case. Someday soon when I have enough oil I intend to start taking a gram a day for a year to see what effect it has on my body.

Many people who have taken the oil have stated that they thought it to be the fountain of youth. From my own experiences with the oil I believe this to be true.

Please also see dosing information: http://phoenixtears.ca/dosage-information/

Please also see testimonials: http://phoenixtears.ca/testimonials/

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Whose oil can you trust?

please also read: http://phoenixtears.ca/articles/whose-oil-can-you-trust/

I make oil/give away oil and even sell oil, however, I DO encourage everyone to learn how to make their own medicine. That being said, I understand that not everyone has the desire or strength to make the oil for themselves.

You can make a monetary donation to help keep the free tears going by clicking this sentence  we began this link for art supplies, but have used it to accept donations online as well. remember that healing is an art as well.

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Want to read more about the success people are seeing with this oil?

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Cannabis Oil Success Stories

is a group on Facebook. It is full of knowledgeable individuals who have seen the healing that can come from this therapy. Often, people have to hide the fact they are on this treatment for fear of persecution/prosecution. Cannabis Oil Success Stories gives people on the therapy a forum to share information and to help each other get through any bumps along the road during therapy. They lend support to both patients and caregivers who are embarking on this Cannabis Healing Journey.

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This medication is very effective when used topically  Please take a look at these stories!

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Phoenix Tears Healing a Diabetic Ulcer (8 months of treatment)

I must admit that I have not updated you all on this story in FAR too long. I must also admit that all I was truly able to do for this ulcer is to prevent it from becoming overly dangerous to a very resistive patient. I could have achieved more success had I been able to convince Fat Freddy (the patient) to stop wearing his suspenders. I believe that the wound began as a pressure sore from those suspenders, and as long as he continues to wear them, he will continue to have a sore there. During my prolonged illness this summer, I had someone else take over his wound care. Initially, they did not follow instructions or treat his wound and within a few weeks, his shoulder looked like the “before” images in the below video. When therapy resumed, his wound resumed the healing process and was back to the level of healing it had been when I last provided documentation. I have a few videos and images that have been piling up on this story, however due to the patient’s stubbornness, I have little faith that this wound will ever truly heal. What can be done is continuing the therapy and preventing a major infection in a geriatric body.

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Patient testimonial “I have cancer, cancer does not have me”

This is a patient under Mr. Ronnie Smith’s care. Mr. Smith runs marijuanaman.com. The video was created by the patient and the audio track was added by Ms. Breezy.

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Cured: A Cannabis Story (A Film By David Triplett)

Cannabis cured David Triplett’s skin cancer. The above video is his story.

It has been proven that concentrated cannabis extract oil cures cancer.

Why hasn’t The U.S. National Cancer Institute or The American Cancer Society tested Cannabis Oil?. Is it lack of personnel (2,100 USNCI staff members) or limited financial support (USNCI 2010 budget of $5.1 Billion dollars!)

Cannabis Concentrate or extract is the same as Rick Simpson’s “Hemp Oil”. Hemp seed oil is NOT what Rick Simpson is making and using.

Google “cannabinoids” and “cancer”.
Google “endocannabinoids” and “cancer”
Google “THC” and “Cancer”.
Google pubmed, go there and look up “endocannabinoids” and “cancer”, as well as “cannabinoids” and “cancer”.

*****Note, in the interest of full disclosure,  David Triplett is not my personal patient. His story is so powerful that I felt the need to include it here with this information.

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See the effects of Cannabis oil on a Parkinson’s Patient

This is a patient under Mr. Ronnie Smith’s care. Mr. Smith runs marijuanaman.com

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Stopping Epileptic seizures with Hemp Oil

This is a patient under Mr. Ronnie Smith’s care. Mr. Smith runs marijuanaman.com

A Note from Breezy on Seizures
If you have seizures, strain choice can make a big difference. For some patients with seizures, a concentrated form of cannabis is not even necessary when the right strain choices of flowers for smoking are available. Generally, any strain from the white widow branch of the cannabis family tree is a good choice. Please view the Cannabis products and Colorado Dispensary Reviews Page here on kiefair.com for more information on strain choice for epilepsy and several other conditions. Check the description of the videos for more information.

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txt msg from a patient’s daughter who wishes anonymity:

“I hope you are in the mood to be showered with praise. I want you to hear what YOUR medicine is doing. Mom outlived her prognosis. She is feeling as healthy as a horse. Labs are great. Tumors have shrunk even more. There is NO new metastasis. Doctor doesn’t know what to think. This is shaking him up a bit. He says her chemo would not do this and even if it did, there is no way she could be this healthy. Breezy you are a true gift from God!”

~anonymous daughter of a cancer patient

This is a patient under Ms. Breezy Kiefair’s care. Ms. Breezy runs kiefair.com

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Message from anonymous Chronic Back Pain Patient

back injury patient…. the injury has long since healed as far as it wants to, but the pain has stuck around for them making work/day to day life difficult. She had this to say regarding their night spent sleeping with a gram of phoenix tears oil in a capsule…..

“I slept like a rock last night only after spinning like crazy. Think that was a little too much even for me! Had the worst case of cotton mouth ever and I think I am still feeling the effects. just got home from cleaning my aunts bathrooms woo that was an easy $50”

~anonymous back pain patient

This is a patient under Ms. Breezy Kiefair’s care. Ms. Breezy runs kiefair.com

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On Use of Phoenix Tears to Treat

Severe Pain or Chronic Intractable Pain

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Higher dosing may be necessary for those with severe pain. Dosing for Intractable pain can match that of a cancer patient (a gram a day), and in some cases even exceed it. Remember folks… your nervous system can only send so many pain signals to the brain before the brain senses an attack/danger of some kind. Your brain may not understand in the least what the threat is or where it is coming from… enough pain=physiological responses to a threat in the brain. Once the threat is sensed, it turns on our most primitive parts of the brain out of sheer survival mode…. when someone is bathed in adrenalyne because of their pain, they are not really themselves any more… there is a primitive auto-pilot in the captains chair that doesn’t give a damn about logic or reason or anything other than mitigating the threat it thinks is there because of all the pain signals. Real Niacin (not niacinamide) can help circumvent this cycle, but only if you can tolerate the flushing (remember itching powder you could put in someone’s drink? remember how it said it was harmless? that is because it was niacin)

This also explains why people can be exhausted, weak and seemingly unable to even rise out of bed one moment, and then when that adrenaline kicks in… why, you’re a screaming banshee with all the energy you could possibly need to destroy yourself and those you love around you? I try to channel it into things like getting caught up on cleaning, or directing the anger/passion somewhere (anywhere) it is more deserved than on my loved ones….. if that means crafting a letter to the government telling them what’s up or if that means telling someone that really needs to hear it in a powerful way what the causes their actions are having… I try to direct all that adrenaline into more positive places when it happens, but it is such a negative feeling that it is really easy to loose track of the fact that there is no real threat other than the ones coming from your own central nervous system…

I learned most of this through attempting to treat my own severe intractable pain. If you would like to read up on the science behind these involuntary responses, I suggest you read the article on wikipedia regarding the Fight-or-Flight response to stressors. 

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Fibromyalgia and Cannabis oil

I believe that fibromyalgia patients need to supplement with cannabis oil. There is research that suggests the disease may be a disorder/deficiency in the endocannabinoid system. Here is a link for the fibro peeps on the endocannabinoid system and their potential deficiency….
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/15159679

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Not Every Story is a clear success…

In some cases, all that can be done is to ease the passing of a dear friend with the only mercy you can find. Sometimes the cure just gets there too late to do much more than ease the pain of passing away. Sometimes people are just too stubborn and wait too long to begin treatment. Other times, the knowledge of this treatment remains elusive to the patient or their loved one’s attention  until there just isn’t enough time left for the oil to work. We had a pet owner recently who valiantly tried to save his best friend’s life (his dog). Duke the Cancer fighting dog may not have had the “happy ending” we were all hoping for, but it did make the end of life less painful for this dog. We also got word that after the pooch no longer could use the medicine, his human companion was able to use the oil and see the benefits in his own body. Sometimes it’s a mixed blessing like that. This is a joint patient under Mr. Ronnie Smith and Ms. Breezy Kiefair’s care. Mr. Smith runs marijuanaman.com and Ms. Breezy Kiefair runs kiefair.com

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Gramps’ Cannabis Oil & Cancer Journey

*****Note, in the interest of full disclosure,  “Gramps”  is not my personal patient. His story is so powerful that I felt the need to include it here with this information.

from the healing files of Auntie Debi Phillips
“I am so sorry I haven’t got back to you. First the hand: fantastic. Almost totally healed, after the first treatment with the oil all inflammation was gone infection was almost cleared up, I aired it all day then just washed it & re-bandaged it . I had had an allergic reaction to the lasik they used & had a bad red burn around I that hurt. The next morning it was gone, burn healed. The scar tissue that had formed before oil had been so tight I could hardly move my thumb, after the oil it became elastic again & I’ve been able to move my thumb again without pain. Yesterday the skin graft they put on it fell off & the wound looks fantastic. Going to treat with oil again & a sore the Dr. Wants to remove when I go next time on my elbow. I don’t want to have it cut on like this one so if I treat it now I’m praying when he scraps it again this time there won’t be any cancer cells this time & when he wonders why I am handing him educational material, maybe he will convert or at least be receptive.

I am so grateful for saving my hand. I really believe if you hadn’t sent the oil I wouldn’t be able to use my thumb & first finger. I’ve also been working as secretary where my life partner works as a mechanic. I have two more spots of skin cancer. I”m gonna take pictures of before & during treatment & the end results also.” (Debi is breezy’s adopted auntie)

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What is the bottom line if you desire to make the oil yourself or are unable to make it?

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It takes one pound of cannabis to create 2 ounces of oil. For those who are financially secure, the price for the cure is $2,000. The smallest amount I can sell is one oral syringe of oil for $500. 1 oral syringe = 12 grams of treatment.
12 grams is about 1 month’s worth of medicine for the beginner. It takes 5 syringes (2 ounces) to cure most cases of cancer.

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Free Phoenix Tears???

I have a free phoenix tears patient to patient program for those who are low income or out of the treatment temporarily.

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Unfortunately, demand for the free oil is so high that (as I type 10/29/12) I am looking at a month before that line even moves,  I do triage people based on severity of illness and financial need for the free list. Please remember that I provide these mercies out of my own pocket. Donations of raw materials or monetary support are few and far between. When they happen, I am grateful. When support is absent, I still try and find a way to serve those in need regardless of ability to pay.

I know that waiting on someone else’s mercy is one of the hardest things to do in the world. Especially when you are waiting on something that could save your life (or your loved one’s life)
I really appreciate your patience my darling patients…

Some people get angry at me during the wait-list period not realizing that I am trying to help as many people as possible with as little as possible… even going unmedicated myself at times to do it… I really hate dry times like these… I try and remind myself and others getting low on patience that I do this out of my own pocket… no one (on any sort of regular basis) donates raw materials to me to get these mercies done.

No matter how much i wish to heal sick people, there have been some I had to harden my heart to because they became abusive… Now, I can understand better than most how pain can turn you into a monster…

If people are able to act like adults later and make amends, my heart softens… if not, then i just have to close the door to contact and feel guilty… (i have taken more than my fair share of abuse in this life already.. verbal and otherwise… and I cannot continue to do this work if I do not set firm boundaries with individuals like this)

Remember! Love and Mercy are things everyone is willing to take and few are willing to give. When the well of kindness that the few give from runs dry, whose responsibility is it to refresh the well we all need to drink of? The “givers” run dry and the “takers” get mad that there is nothing left to give.

To those of you mature enough to stick around for the long haul, I’m saying how much I appreciate working with people like you who see the larger picture. looking like a month or so before the list begins to move again… and cancer waits for no man woman or child. For these cold realities, I apologize.

Free Program and ALL OIL REFERRALS through this site closed as of March 2013 through Kiefair.com due to change in author’s circumstances! I will update if I begin to offer them again. I do still offer informational consultations.

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you can also communicate via email:

Contact Breezy for patient to patient compassion and for information regarding cannabis oil btokeefer@gmail.com or friend me on facebook and send me a private message

 

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There is a cure for cancer and I am here to help you in your pursuit of life.

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i’ve done a lot of time walking with the creator to get from where I was to where I am now…. that’s what faith can do… even if i am a ball of drama 99% of the time because of my past…..

I’ve been able to move from a position of the person with their had out begging to the person filling hands…. read some of the old notes i recently posted…. and then think about how far I have actually come.

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I have been long winded (as always), and for that I apologize.

I’d like to speak to Colorado for a moment and it’s voters…. I feel I must leave you with the following thoughts regarding how you cast your vote on the Amendment 64 issue in a few days.

For the record, I STILL do NOT SUPPORT COLORADO CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT 64 Corporate Greed IS NOT LEGAL WEED! Vote NO on Colorado State Constitutional Amendment 64! (or at least read the damn bill and see how corporate minded it is and then make up your mind…. don’t listen to the pamphlets or the tv spots… trust your own reasoning after reading the LANGUAGE you are making yourself subject to!)….. Read the bill and think about who they wrote the bill to benefit… their own freaking pocketbooks, that’s who… read the text of the AMMENDMENT (provided in red letters at the link https://kiefair.com/2012/04/15/colorado-canna-relief-or-cannabis-like-alcohol-you-decide/ ) and then decide how to vote… don’t just think “YAY legal weed” and vote… you’re not getting what you think you are babies!

The bill that is written to serve those who already have money (dispensary owners wanting to convert to party stores to sell to recreational users and stop dealing with us “difficult” sick people). If you read the bills closely, it is really easy to see whom they were written to serve…. the Campaign to Regulate Marijuana Like Alcohol serves those already deep in the industry and keeps the grows in corporate hands…. I believe the recreational users should be allowed to grow. It’s just a plant….. When people see the shackles and chains
slapped on them by this bill in reality (the words put into practice) people are going to be just as pissed about these regulations as they are about the regs under hb-1284/sb-109

curious? follow this link and read more: https://www.facebook.com/breezy.kiefair/posts/421373774583285

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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
October 25, 2012

Proponents of Amendment 64 Continue their Smoke Screen of Deceit
Denver, CO: Deceit and deception, the folks behind Amendment 64 are becoming masters of spin. Those that have taken the time to think critically about Amendment 64 have determined that the law continues to criminalize marijuana and that simply removing the word prohibition is just a smoke screen used to hide the fact that people will still go to jail for marijuana possession.
They continue their deceit and word spinning while defending themselves from Roger Sherman’s recent criticism of the findings from Colorado Center on Law & Policy stating that Colorado could see $100 million in revenues by 2017. While ending marijuana “prohibition” would certainly generate more income for the state, an almost laughably obvious point, Amendment 64 still criminalizes marijuana possession and positions the initiative to only benefit those with easy access to the significant investment funds needed to meet the requirements of the initiative. Those wanting to build their business in the true American way of starting small and growing big, will be left out in the lurch and probably end up in jail for trying.
Consider the following statements from some of Amendment 64’s largest proponents:
“we believe that once the people of Colorado end marijuana prohibition in the state by passing Amendment 64, there will be far more thought given to whether it is appropriate to force the state to have marijuana sold to non-patients by drug cartels and other criminal enterprises.” Mason Tvert
Amendment 64 is exclusively for its wealthy backers since everyone else will be suspected of having ties to drug cartels and other criminal enterprises requiring additional resources for law enforcement. It begs to question how many minority and low-income communities will be considered as having ties to drug cartels.
And, here is Art Way’s line by line breakdown of what Roger Sherman said followed by the Denver 420 Rally’s line by line analysis in bold:
“Art Way, Senior Policy Manager for the Drug Policy Alliance in Colorado, is and has been part of that reform. He is a fifth generation native of Denver’s eastside and a virulent advocate for issues impacting his community.”
No, Art Way is a sell out to big business. That is his new community. If he were truly a community advocate he would help those in his community, who by birth into dire circumstances became drug dealers as a means of survival, become legal. Instead he advocates for an initiative that will continue to incriminate those in his community by creating unrealistic limitations on marijuana possession for those choosing to grow six plants and by requiring significant investments to start a legal operation, money that is not easily accessible to minority and low-income communities. The issues that plague Art’s community will continue, only now under the word criminalization instead of prohibition.
“The Legislative Council staff is well-respected. And their analysis is sound. But their analysis is more limited. The CCLP report includes excise tax revenue and the Blue Analysis did not factor in the savings that will be realized when the police and courts no longer enforce prohibition. Legislative Council did not include those two factors.”
Bold faced lie. The courts and law enforcement will still be enforcing a different form of prohibition. Amendment 64 is nothing more than a play on words. It still clearly and quite obviously criminalizes marijuana. So, the Blue Analysis did not factor in the savings from no longer needing to enforce “prohibition” because instead they will still be enforcing the criminal penalties set forth by Amendment-64. Therefore, they will not be realizing the saving that the analysis by the Colorado Center on Law and Policy claims because the Legislative Council sees through the play on words that Amendment 64 uses to deceive the public.
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Contact: Miguel Lopez, Denver 420 Rally
(720) 338-8766

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I am also very disappointed in the CDPHE for not approving PTSD on the Colorado APPROVED conditions list for a medicinal cannabis card…. THE PEOPLE petitioned to have it added as afforded by Amendment 20. Are you incapable of handling the research? I guess you want our soldiers offing themselves for a job done for their country? You have no heart and no business controlling our medicine.” read more: http://www.gazette.com/articles/veterans-145207-group-marijuana.html

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Colorado Department Of Public Health and Environment website

 Colorado Medical Marijuana Registry Home Page

Information every low income applicant to the Colorado Medical Marijuana Registry should know

2012-02-08 HEY COLORADO DISPENSARIES ~TAX EXEMPT MEANS TAX EXEMPT!

Effective January 1, 2012, the Registry will no longer accept Food Stamp and Supplemental Security Income letters as proof of low-income status.
Patients with a household income that is 185% of the Federal Poverty Level or less, qualify for fee waiver. The chart below indicates the annual household incomes, adjusted for family size, that qualify.
Household incomes at 185% of 2012  Federal Poverty Guidelines*
# in Family Annual Income
1 $20,664.50
2 $27,990.50
3 $35,316.50
4 $42,642.50
5 $49,968.50
6 $57,294.50
7 $64,620.50
8 $71,946.50
Each Additional $ 7,067.00

Source: Federal Register, Vol 75, No. 17, January 26, 2012, ppl 4034-4035

*Poverty guidelines are updated periodically in the Federal Register by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services under the authority of 42 U.S.C. 9902(2)

To apply for a Fee Waiver/Tax Exempt Status, patients must:

1. Request a certified copy of their most current State tax returnfrom the Department of Revenue. Tax returns must be within the last two years to qualify. Patients can request a certified copy of their tax return by completing form DR-5714 ‘Request for Copy of Tax Returns’ available atwww.colorado.gov/cms/forms/dor-tax/dr5714.pdf.pdf logo The form must be completed, notarized and sent to the Colorado Department of Revenue for processing.

2. Complete form MMR1010 Request for Fee Waiver/Tax-Exempt Status. 1010.pdf pdf file .

3. Send the Request for Fee Waiver/Tax-Exempt Status form and the certified copy of the most current State tax return with the patient’s application.

4. Patients who already have a Medical Marijuana Registration Card, may submit form MMR 1010 and a copy of their certified State tax return to have their card status modified to “Tax Exempt.”

You Can’t see my pain with your eyes. The only thing that relieves my pain is Cannabis! You could never imagine the pain I suffer, yet you deny me my freedom. Image by: The Art of Breezy Kiefair for the Reefer Gurl Facebook page

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as always, thank you for your time and attention in reading this. If you found it useful or of value please share it with your friends. Did I miss something you think needs covered? Please comment in a respectful manner or message me so that the issue has been brought to my attention.

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Respectfully,
Breedheen O’Rilley Keefer
AKA Breezy Kiefair

links about breezy
blog

Reefer Gurl “like” page on FB
Gardening Tips for the Medically Damned “like” page on FB
the more in depth, needs editing, 31 page version to help you understand why i sit at my machine fighting the machine day in and day out.

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~ Do all that you can to cultivate peace within yourself, that it might
shine out from you, and plant the seed of peace in other spirits, for them
to cultivate.~{Remember… it is when we choose act on the issues that are in front of
our faces, when we choose to get involved instead of looking the other way
as our fellow man struggles, when we choose to take those small simple
little actions, working on righting little wrongs in our everyday lives that
really make change happen, those seemingly small actions are what really
make the world a better place and are a catalyst for greater social change.}
~Both quotes by Breedheen “Bree” O’Rilley Keefer~

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Always remember you can tell what a person really believes in by their actions… your actions prove to all the world who and what you bow down to in this life… Your actions tell people what your free will wants far louder and more plainly than your words ever could… When you are gone, those same seemingly small actions will give you exactly what you deserve.. to quote a long forgotten bit of poetry I read once on a faded newspaper clipping in a children’s reader from the 1860’s “how will men remember you when that you are gone… the little things you say and do, they shall linger on.”So I ask each of you to take a good look inside your own heads, hearts, spirits and souls and ask yourself… who do you serve? do you serve only yourself and ignore your fellow man? We all have areas we need improvement…. If you look in there and find your actions are not showing what is in your heart, then maybe it’s time to change your behavior to be more in line with the light shining within you however you choose to understand it….. that being said…. have a blessed day fully in line with your own free will and heart….
~Breedheen O’Rilley

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Phoenix Tears Healing a Diabetic Ulcer (updated Journey)

Phoenix Tears aka Rick Simpson Oil aka Hash Oil

Phoenix Tears aka Rick Simpson Oil aka Hash Oil

Before I begin this testimonial, Please take a few moments to acquaint yourself with Phoenix Tears.

Here is a video of how to make the oil. Please also visit the text tutorial here:

http://phoenixtears.ca/make-the-medicine/

for more information on this therapy, please visit the following links:

What It Does & How It Works

http://phoenixtears.ca/what-it-does-and-how-it-works/

excerpt from link:

If you are looking for a safe medication, look no further than what the hemp plant can provide. On top of all that it’s a medicine we can all grow and produce ourselves. Also there is no need for a doctor’s supervision with its use.

When the hemp plant is grown for medicinal use, you now have your own medical system that is much safer and effective than anything our current medical system provides. You still may require a doctor to set your broken leg, but you will no longer need the chemicals they have been pushing upon us.

Hemp is medicine for the masses and no one has the right to control its use. We are all different and we all have different tolerances for practically everything. So it is up to each and every one of us to determine for ourselves how much oil we require to maintain good health.

Over the years people have come to me who after years of treatment by the medical system did not even have a diagnosis for their conditions. But the oil exercised its amazing healing power and their medical problems were solved.

Another aspect of the use of hemp as medicine is its anti-aging properties. As we age, our vital organs deteriorate and of course this impairs the function of these organs.

Hemp oil rejuvenates vital organs even in small doses it is very common for people to report to me that they feel 20 to 30 years younger after only ingesting the oil for a short time.

Now let’s take it to the next level. What about people who ingest larger quantities of oil over a longer period of time like myself? After 9 years on the oil my body does not appear to be that of a 60 year old man. Instead, my body has the appearance of someone who is a great deal younger. When I have the oil at my disposal I like to take about a quarter of a gram a day. Of course, due to short supply, quite often I must go without so my own treatment has been erratic to say the least.

From my own experience with the oil I cannot help but wonder what would happen if a person was to ingest larger quantities of oil over a longer period of time. If a person were to do this, can they actually reverse the aging process and grow younger instead of aging.

From the oils effect on my own body by all appearances this seems to be the case. Someday soon when I have enough oil I intend to start taking a gram a day for a year to see what effect it has on my body.

Many people who have taken the oil have stated that they thought it to be the fountain of youth. From my own experiences with the oil I believe this to be true.

Please also see dosing information: http://phoenixtears.ca/dosage-information/

Please also see testimonials: http://phoenixtears.ca/testimonials/

Finally, Whose oil can you trust?

please also read: http://phoenixtears.ca/articles/whose-oil-can-you-trust/

*****Author’s note… the above information is my research source. It is how I learned about Phoenix Tears and why I wanted to try them… ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

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*****THE BELOW information is data gathered based on personal observation. I have utmost respect for Mr. Rick Simpson and his work, but I in no way have his permission or endorsement… just for honesty and clarity.

Fat Freddy has had a sore on his back for about 3 years and it would not heal! We started putting Rick Simpson Oil on it on November 23, then the next day we checked it and then checked it every 3 days afterwards, changing the oil and bandage every 3 days as well! Here is the progress so far! (WARNING THIS IS GRAPHIC!)

NOVEMBER 23, 2011 First treatment

November 23, 2011 9:32am fat freddy's diabetic ulcer on his back before treatement of phoenix tears with 1984 penny for scale

November 23, 2011 9:32am fat freddy’s diabetic ulcer on his back before treatment of phoenix tears with 1984 penny for scale

November 23, 2011 9:32am fat freddy's diabetic ulcer on his back application of first treatement of phoenix tears with 1984 penny for scale

November 23, 2011 9:32am fat freddy’s diabetic ulcer on his back application of first treatment of phoenix tears with 1984 penny for scale

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November 24, 2011

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy's diabetic ulcer progress day #2

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy’s diabetic ulcer progress day #2

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy's diabetic ulcer progress day #2

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy’s diabetic ulcer progress day #2

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy's diabetic ulcer progress day #2

11/24/11 10:04 Fat freddy’s diabetic ulcer progress day #2

Please view this video of the continuing progress.

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On December 9, 2011 this is how the wound looked….

12/09/11 7:12pm progress on Fat Freddy's shoulder... WOW!

12/09/11 7:12pm progress on Fat Freddy’s shoulder… WOW!

*note* our supply of Phoenix Tears AKA Rick Simpson Oil AKA Hash oil ran out during the course of therapy. We substituted one treatment for Hemp-EaZe™ THERAPY CREAM. We have also been using the Hemp-EaZe™ for Baby & Me Spray to wipe away any excess oil when we change the bandage. Hemp-EaZe™ THERAPY CREAM is available here: http://tierrasolfarm.com/Hemp-EaZe-THERAPY-CREAM-333.htm Hemp-EaZe™ for Baby & Me Spray is available here: http://tierrasolfarm.com/Hemp-EaZe-for-Baby-Me-Spray-335.htm

In the future, I plan to do a blog post about my personal experience with the phoenix tears for my fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome. I doubt I will have any fantastic images, but I have already seen improvement since I have been ingesting this therapy.

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For more information on getting Phoenix Tears

 please call 678-362-3245

or  email

thelasname@yahoo.com

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UPDATES BELOW!!!

A note before we begin…

You can also view all the relevant videos for this patient on this youtube playlist

And now…

The Healing Continues….

Fat Freddy‘s treatment began on November 23, 2011. We changed his bandage (covered with phoenix tears oil) every 3 days until around December 12, 2011.

Here is the progress from ! December 12, 2011 to December 26. 2011  (WARNING THIS IS GRAPHIC!)

We saw amazing progress. When the scab initially fell off in November, it left a pitted area from where the sore had been for so many years. In addition to healing over, this ugly pit began to fill in with pretty pink, healthy skin.

We began changing the bandage every 6 days as the healing proceeded.

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December 30, 2011 to January 12, 2012

I did some additional research on diabetes and it’s effects on the skin. 

According to WebMD, “Every 30 seconds, somewhere in the world, someone loses a lower limb as a result of diabetes”…… 

In my opinion, nearly all of those amputations could be prevented if we would stop running from the cure for so many diseases & start using Rick Simpson‘s Run From The Cure method to make Hemp oil.

(link to reference article from WebMD http://diabetes.webmd.com/features/diabetes-wounds-caring-sores)

I did not realize how many DIFFERENT ways Diabetes affects the skin! I’m so glad that I know about the many diseases that are treated and cured with Rick Simpson oil…. There is a cure for Cancer, but it is not FDA approved. Phoenix Tears work! (and diabetes, and Fibromyalgia, and Autism, and so much more!!!)

the below link details the many ways that diabetes affects the skin 
http://telemedicine.org/dm/dmupdate.htm#bp

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Some FOR MORE INFORMATION LINKS:

for more info on phoenix tears, please visit: http://phoenixtears.ca/

For more info on “Fat Freddy” of the Freak Brother’s Comics (a longtime cannabis freedom fighter and the dude whose back we are healing) please visit: http://www.fatfreddy.com/

to buy Hemp EaZe Baby & Me Spray (the non thc lotion I have been using along with the PTO) please visit:

http://tierrasolfarm.com/Hemp-EaZe-for-Baby-Me- Spray-335.htm

need to know more? btokeefer@gmail.com

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April 1, 2012 Update… No April Fool’s joke here!

4/1/2012 Updated image of the healing.

Around one edge, some light scaling of skin remains. The scar itself continues to fill in where it had been an sunken area on the back. We are continuing to change the bandage about once a week. Have a blessed day. We will continue to update this post as we can. The authoress of the post is currently nursing a broken pelvis.

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April 11, 2012

We changed the bandage this morning, lo and behold, all the scaling has gone! We are now continuing treatment only as scar reduction! It has been so amazing to watch this horrible wound heal up and begin to disappear. Here are the latest pics.

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April 20, 2012 to May 5, 2012 UPDATE

There seemed to have been a deeper infection going on. We continued therapy for scar reductive therapy. Now we have entered a second phase of deeper healing. We’re calling it the “Dave Triplett effect”

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for more information please also see:

Cured: A Cannabis Story (A Film By David Triplett)

Cannabis cured my skin cancer. This is my story.
It has been proven that concentrated cannabis extract oil cures cancer.
Why hasn’t The U.S. National Cancer Institute or The American Cancer Society tested Cannabis Oil?. Is it lack of personnel (2,100 USNCI staff members) or limited financial support (USNCI 2010 budget of $5.1 Billion dollars!)

Cannabis Concentrate or extract is the same as Rick Simpson’s “Hemp Oil”. Hemp seed oil is NOT what Rick Simpson is making and using.

Google “cannabinoids” and “cancer”.
Google “endocannabinoids” and “cancer”
Google “THC” and “Cancer”.
Google pubmed, go there and look up “endocannabinoids” and “cancer”, as well as “cannabinoids” and “cancer”.
Google Dr. Robert Dr Robert Melamede and cancer”.

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May 18, 2011 still images…. We left Fat Fred’s back open to the air for nearly 1 week prior to these images. This gave his skin some time to breathe without a bandage and demonstrates how quickly the phoenix tears therapy treats wounds and also how quickly a wound suffers when therapy is removed.

May 12 -18 2012 UPDATE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LMr4tFAhSI

Update of the healing of fat Freddy’s back with Rick Simpson’s Phoenix Tears Method applied topically to the skin.

view all the relevant videos in this play-list: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLB7A05ED23E5AE962

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2012-05-24 fat freddy’s pto update

Washing and Debridement (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Debridement) of Fat Freddy’s Back. Then we cover it with a bandage covered in Phoenix Tears Oil (hash oil, hemp oil, concentrated cannabis oil)
musical selection composed by: Tchaikovsky
“Nutcracker Suite” “March”

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2012-05-27 – 2012-05-31 Fat Freddy’s Phoenix Tears Update

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June 2012

2012-06-07 Fat Freddy’s Phoenix Tears Healing update

Continuing the healing with phoenix tears therapy on Fat Freddy’s back. We suspect the sore to be a diabetic ulcer and/or skin cancer. Fat Freddy does not like doctors, so a “proper diagnosis” is impossible. There is already a lively debate in the comments on youtube for this video. I will be altering my method slightly to prove a point because of the complaints registered there.

see the comments here
links:
www.urantia.org/urantia-book/read-urantia-bookonline

www.etsy.com/shop/connabis

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June 18, 2012 to July 3, 2012 Cumulative Update

watch it on youtube

Please also see this related post on Naphtha

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For more information on  Phoenix Tears

email breezy kiefair btokeefer@gmail.com

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Words to the father of my son through his lover

 

  • Breezy Mental Ginsberg Kiefair

    • i will send the pics (meaning every digital photo of Westley I have). I understand. I really do. People just believe shit about me that is not true. Ever hear the term silvertongue? The guy who killed Westley, was one. Guess he must have chatted up my ex-husband & co. too. Well the very fact that the pathology report says i was clocked into work at the time science tells us Wes was injured says i did not kill Wes. I love Wheelchair Doug still. Mel had an abortion at the same time i got preggers. She hates me for herself, not for me or Wes. Wes touched a lot of lives in his short life. Honestly, Jason’s family was the biggest problem in our relationship, and he was never abusive except for when they had been torturing him to get me to change my mind about something.

    • i dunno if that clears anything up, but my motives are not what you’ve been told, i assure you. Was i a not so good person when i was with Jason, sure…. I was a crazy bitch at times. I can own that. The grief over Wes killed that selfish bitch. By the by…. I make that treatment i mentioned for your eyes. It’d be an honor to help you if you like.

    • Maybe he found me so his heart can understand the truth, place the blame where it’s due, & take a bit of responsibility. He was Westley’s dad, & he nearly never fulfilled any fatherly responsibilities. Had he been helping, i could have left & saved OUR sons life. I even went back to both Jason & the guy who killed Wes trying to decide who was less detrimental to Westley. I choose poorly with no good safe choices available. Even begged my bio father to get us out.

    • all of that is neither here nor there… I am sure Jason & i have both paid dearly for any karmic debt with Westley. I’m only saying this because as his partner, maybe the information can help you help him. I know well what the grief over an innocent can do.the images are at the other email address.

    • i hope it helps.

 

UPDATED POST: MOM AND DAD Remembering a Murdered boy: Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts. Happy would-be 13th birthday 7:47pm (birth minute)

UPDATED POST: MOM AND DAD Remembering a Murdered boy: Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts. Happy would-be 13th birthday 7:47pm (birth minute)

an update from Westley’s father at the bottom of the post. I am so very grateful.

Kiefair.com DIY cannabis and more

If all works out according to plan, this will be posted on my only child’s birth minute on what would have been his 13th birthday.

I have often said that we have a word for people who loose all family members but children (widow/widower, orphan, ect) partially because of historical mortality rates of children and partially because it is a loss so horrible there just isn’t a word to describe the feeling. I will never forget you Westley. You changed me as a person for the better & for this, I am forever grateful to you.

I named my only child Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts. I agonized in research for months looking for the right name. Westley and Keaton together means ~”loosely” man from the field where the Hawks go in Gaelic. Westley was also in deference to of my I don’t know how many great(s)-uncle named Westley O’Connor who…

View original post 1,725 more words

Breezy’s Broken Butt Bone… Need some things to heal

I’ve been walking around on a broken pelvis for at least 7-10 days trying to get a ride to the hospital. On April 9, 2012 the pain became so extreme that I finally told a little white lie that i fell in the tub and called an ambulance. I told another little white lie to avoid discussing the cannabis issue with a “luck of the draw doctor”…. I whitewashed the fact that I am chronically ill and said I am on no medications (cannabis is a food wink wink). That made my life a lot easier.

Usually I am 100% honest when I go to see a doctor. I felt bad being deceptive, but I just didn’t have it in me to debate with the doctor, and I was terrified I would be refused pain medication or treatment if I dared to mention the herb that I use as a religious sacrament. I say that it made my life easier to “sweep the cannabis issue under the rug” but morally, I was (and am) conflicted about it. So often I speak about how we should show our pot pride, but the sad truth is, this time I didn’t have any fight in me. This time, the pain was too bad to educate along the way. I’m not proud of my choice to not share the whole truth with that er doctor last night at the Hospital, but I am sharing the truth of how it made me feel to minimize the treatment that works for my ongoing health issues.

When they finally released me from the hospital, I paid for a cab home with money I didn’t really have. I borrowed it from one of my roommates who couldn’t really spare it either but was tired of watching me suffer. We dunno when the injury really happened, but most likely I hurt it trying to be superwoman in the move and then the break grew and grew over the month of March until I could no longer bear the pain. We moved because of stalkers. No need to get into details.

The thing is, I MINIMIZED this injury in the beginning thinking it was just a part of my normal every day pain…. And so did everyone else I was imploring for help… Have I become a bit jaded, well sure I have. Am I fighting that impulse? yes I am. Thanks for the love guys, I need it.

People have been asking what they can do to help me heal…

1. Due to stalkers, I need to be able to set up a post office box to be able to receive packages.  It is not that I do not trust my friends, it is that I am trying to protect myself from the stalkers that caused the move. The move caused the injury. My stubbornness made that injury more severe. A post office box will run $32 for 6 months. I retrieved this information from the USPS site https://www.usps.com/manage/get-a-po-box.htm

2. I currently sleep on a futon mattress on the floor. I don’t really care what kind of bed i end up with, but I do need a bed that is more comfortable than what I have. Bedrest and pain control is about all that can be done until the fracture heals of its own accord. Pillows are also a welcome blessing as I struggle to find comfort.

3. I have phoenix Tears oil aka edible hash oil for sale or trade to Colorado Medical Marijuana Patients. I personally have become tolerant to the strains we made the oil from. This batch was made from medical grade trim and sweetleaf. In return, I need flowers or concentrates to smoke, cannabis infused foods (medibles) to munch, or salves to massage into the pain in my ass. For more information on the edible/topical hash oil I make, please visit this post and watch a diabetic ulcer disappear! I will do product reviews BY REQUEST of any medication I receive

4. Financial support to pay for cab rides to follow up doctor visits, vitamins to help the bone knit back together,  purchase medication and provide food. Cannabis is an expensive medication not covered by any insurance. While I do grow my own, I am no where near harvest and will be needing medication to mitigate the pain. My food stamp benefits were recently terminated as well.

Low priority needs include:

5. Grow lights, nutrients and assorted growing supplies

6. Meditation aids such as incense, classical or relaxing music, or anything else you think might enhance my calm and help me heal faster.

I feel guilty for asking. Those who have been following my posts know that there are others out there that need help badly. One long time activist needs a vaporizer now that she is home from the hospital for a collapsed lung. Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, a family struggles to stay together and provide shelter, food, medications, etc for themselves and their infant son. The good news is, my friend with the collapsed lung is out of the hospital, and the family was given a donation that provided them a few nights in a hotel.

You can read more about the past chronic pain journey here. It needs to be edited, but I just have so many projects and not enough time.

I will keep this post updated as my needs change. I thank you in advance even if all you can do is hope/wish/pray/send energy towards my speedy recovery.

If you can help out financially, please click here to visit the wepay site that has been set up to accept monetary support. You can also email me at btokeefer@gmail.com if you would like to send something or trade.

Have a Blessed day!

Update Friday, April 13, 2012

I find myself unable to sleep more than an hour or so at a time.  I feel guilty asking for anything for myself, especially when there is so much wrong in the world! There are daddies worried about their daughters cause they just found out someone touched them wrong. Homeless parents wondering how long their precious child will have to sit in a dirty diaper. Severe pain patients going through opiate withdrawals because they tested positive for using cannabis to control the pain and are now cut off from their pain doctor…. don’t pain doctors realize they can kill someone like that? “Recovered” addicts are off to the races with their old flames and oh so much more that I dare not even go any further listing…. wow… I’m hoping the creator helps out  a lot of people today.

As for me, I am grateful that I DO HAVE medication today. We desperately need a liquid diet to assist in weight gain. I cannot seem to process solid food right now.  My biggest need is a bed.  My discharge instructions dictate bedrest and pain control. Well, if I must be on bedrest in order to heal, then i gotta have a bed I am capable of sleeping in… playing princess and the pea with a futon on the floor every night is not conducive to sleep in this amount of pain.  If my pelvis were not broken, the futon would be fine….

I remain very frustrated with mainstream medicine. The night I went to the er, i ended up with bruises on my arms from the way that stupid emt handled me while strapping me to the backboard. I screamed nearly the whole way to the hospital the other night… Sheesh… why bother asking me what position is most comfortable/uncomfortable if you are just gonna put me in the position I told you was least comfortable any way…. ofcourse, it could be argued that I got the bruises struggling against the restraints on the backboard, but why was I struggling? cause he made sure I was uncomfortable. I understand they were worried I had a broken spine, but logic dictates that if the patient is calm and polite, then a change of position makes it worse and causes her to become irate and scream, them perhaps you shouldn’t put her in that position!

He is the only one who grabbed me by the arm. Man do I wish I had the camera rolling. I just wasnt up for that in my condition.

My discharge instructions say that pain control and bed rest are all that can be done for me. Well, if they want me on bedrest, i gotta have a bed I am capable of  resting in… playing princess and the pea with a futon on the floor every night is not conducive to sleep in this amount of pain. If my pelvis were not broken, the futon mattress lying on the floor would be fine. Not ideal for a fibromyalgia patient, but it was ok before. My Fibromyalgia pressure points make it very difficult to stay still when I am in pain. After a seizure last night (too much pain) I began to worry if perhaps I should have been placed in a device to prevent me from moving my pelvis.  I Have NOT made a follow up doctor’s appointment cause I dunno how i would get there…. the doc they referred me too is way far away

I’ve had an extraordinarily emotional week. In addition to trying to deal with anxiety responses due to severe pain, I had a visit from my estranged biological mother who is anti cannabis and my biological sister whom I love, but always causes enough stress to escalate my illness. I said it best when they were about to arrive in a facebook status message.

I’m about to offer hospitality for the night to my estranged mother… what a strange experience…She REALLY HATES WEED still… There is a hell of a thunderstorm out there and then you get a call and hear that mom and sister need a room for the night and a meal… you think I’m gonna turn her away? heck no…. porch light is on bio mama & sis… my fridge is yours..

My poor mother’s cousin who was more like a brother to her had passed away. She had just picked my sister up from jail (charges were dismissed thank the creator!) and was in a bad place emotionally. I guess seeing me for the first time since she threw me out of her house for my weed was just too much stimuli for her. She began to threaten suicide. I did what I could to ease her suffering. The last thing I said to her was, “Please don’t kill yourself mom. I love you.”

There have been many other emotional disruptions this week ranging from stalker stimuli to good friends alienated because they didnt understand how to deal with me in this much pain, and I tend to be angry and communicate poorly when I am in pain I cannot treat.

I’d like to remind everyone that physical pain can make an individual look, feel, and behave like a person consumed with negative emotions or energy. It helps if the individual can understand that what they are feeling is an effect of their pain/illness…. this can help prevent getting lost in negative emotion land. Sometimes people like this lash out at people who care about them for little or no reason and then feel bad about it…. This is frustrating for all involved. Persons with negativity due to pain may also turn their “negativity” inward in an effort to prevent the negative emotion/energy from spreading. this can cause a”self negativity loop” that tends to feed into the underlying problem of pain by lowering the patient’s self esteem. Friends/Family members should do all they can to help the patient feel loved and valued to help diffuse this cycle. Positive reinforcement and love can combat negativity no matter the source.

I’ve also been frustrated this week with the number of people seeking free oil… No one should EVER have to beg for their medicine… it doesn’t matter if you can afford your medication or not. You still need it. It doesn’t matter what your “tolerance” (read what dosage you medically need.) It is really, really sick that so many either have to beg for compassion or do without their MEDICINE.. I take my turns being without like most all other fiercely dedicated activists. Most won’t tell you when they are out of medicine. I hear from my friends/audience all the time about how they suffer without medication. It breaks my heart. What is worse is when people have need of free oil because they have been victimized by someone who was supposed to help them in exchange for their money. When these people get their bank accounts emptied and their illnesses remain untreated due mostly to ineptitude and greed, its just wrong on a very deep level. I am happy to help these people out as my own finances allow. It is still frustrating to hear they have been taken advantage of by the folks at the link before they got to me.

I’m frustrated with bureaucratic nonsense in the cannabis as a treatment option in general. My “Colorado Red Card’s” time is running out quickly and I cannot afford to renew. My current medicinal cannabis license came out before they started printing “home-bound patient” on the cards so I can’t even get a delivery from my caregiver due to state red tape. It does not matter to the state that I have been clinically “home bound” since long before I got on the registry.  I am not upset at my caregiver, just frustrated that those in power think someone with a broken pelvis should be able to walk in and buy their meds a day after they are diagnosed. The emergency room doctor sent me home with just 24 percocet. I cannot get to a follow up appointment with another doctor due to lack of transportation. I guess they expect me to just lay in bed in agony for 4-6 weeks or until I have to call the ambulance again? I am honestly wondering why I even made the first emergency room trip at this point. Still, the knowledge gained that there is a real injury instead of assuming it was just an escalation of my every day pain is valuable.

Despite all the frustrations, there were some rays of hope this week.

I’ve done a lot of complaining in this post. I’d like to leave you on a positive note. Here are some cool things that happened this week.

1. On Wednesday, We changed Fat Freddy’s the bandage in the morning. Lo and behold, all the scaling has gone! We are now continuing treatment only as scar reduction! It has been so amazing to watch this horrible wound heal up and begin to disappear. Latest pics are at the bottom of the link we’ve all been sharing.

2. I wrote a little parody to “Where have all the flowers gone” as it applies to cannabis prohibition.

3. My friend with the collapsed lung was able to  get a vaporizer donated to her! She is now home from the hospital and awaiting delivery of her vaporizer!

4. Even the homeless family I have been blogging about got a donation for a few nights in a hotel room. They are still in dire need.  I pray you pray with me and help them out.

5. I used my convalescence to do some new pieces of artwork. The one that most applies to this situation is below. You can view the other pieces on my facebook like page.

6. I was able to ease suffering of others with oil

How can endocannabinoids be illegal when every human body makes them?

I will keep this post updated as my needs change. I thank you in advance even if all you can do is hope/wish/pray/send energy towards my speedy recovery.

If you can help out financially, please click here to visit the wepay site that has been set up to accept monetary support. You can also email me at btokeefer@gmail.com if you would like to send something or trade.

Have a Blessed day!

UPDATE April, 24, 2011

I am overwhelmed with the response to this post. One of my friends went to their local charity and dollar store and made me up a healing box that weighed 1/4 of what I do! A religious studies major from my Alma Mater, Naropa University, made a cash donation of $10. We were able to find a bed on craigslist for free…. the man even delivered the bed to me and helped set it up. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer bed to heal in! Shortly after that, another cannabis activist mailed me a benjamin and told me to get medication and to sleep…… Others are still sending things. I really am ok to heal now. My biggest worry right now is finding trim to make my next batch of mercy for others… If anything is sent that I cannot use, be it money or goods, I will redistribute it to those needing it. THANK YOU ONE AND ALL!

Meanwhile, I am doing all I can to get phoenix tears oil into the hands of those who need it the most while my bone heals.

Have a blessed day!

UPDATE 5/5/2012

my fracture is healed… thanks for the help from the hemp eazenow on to me bruises from the rent a cops at the hospital! they said they could see the fracture clearly and that it had knitted together well! I put the hemp eaze on my hip every night along with soaks and nutritional supplements… nearly zero pharmacological intervention (other than the diagnosis and initial pain control) for this broken bone! Thanks to Darcy and Bill of Hemp Eaze  and everyone else for answering the call!

here is information on the products i used:

Hemp-EaZe™ THERAPY CREAM

Hemp-EaZe™ THERAPY CREAM

Click To Enlarge
  • Item #: 333
  • Manufacturer: Tierra Sol Farm
Hemp-EaZe™ THERAPY CREAM Hemp Root Therapy is a 9 medicinal herb formula. 100% Organic. Hemp-EaZe is formulated to relieve muscular and bone aches, reduce swelling and ease pain. Our triple-strength proprietary blend includes; Hemp Root, Comfrey, Burdock, Lavender, Lobelia, Hyssop, Feverfew, Myrrh Gum, Sage, and California Bay. Hemp-EaZe rejuvenates circulation, promotes cellular growth, and encourages deep tissue healing. It’s a 2 oz. jar but, A little goes a long way. Our therapy cream spreads nice and thin, so it’s very economical. Great for Arthritis, sprains, joint pain, as well as, breaking down bruising, mending wounds, and relieving the discomfort of skin ailments, such as eczema and psoriasis. * The natural bees wax in the cream will begin to softened if exposed to direct sunlight or heat. If this occurs, set jar in cool place or refrigerate until solidifies again. Softening will not harm product. We use raw bees wax for it’s antiseptic qualities. We get our bees wax locally, from bees who no doubt pollinated our own herbs that we grow for our formula. Tierra Sol Farm is a GREEN company. We grow organically, buy locally, and we’re reusing. We reuse boxes for shipping to help reduce waste. * Results May Vary

Hemp-EaZe Hemp Root And Honey Deep Healing Body Butter

Hemp-EaZe Hemp Root And Honey Deep Healing Body Butter

Click To Enlarge
  • Item #: 400
  • Manufacturer: Tierra Sol Farm
Hemp-EaZe Hemp Root And Honey Deep Healing Body Butter Introduced at the 20th Anniversary of The Seattle Hempfest! Hemp ROOT has been proven to be successful in reducing swelling and easing pain. Now recent studies have shown that components in the root have been successful at killing Staph. infection! The Deep Healing Body Butter is 100% Organic SOY-FREE treatment for; bruising, sore muscles, skin irritations, burns, scrapes, and cuts. With A touch of honey, enhances this cream as a double antiseptic, preventing infection, promoting tissue growth, rejuvenating the circulation and easing swelling. * We use raw honey for it’s antiseptic qualities. We get our honey locally, from bees who no doubt pollinated our own herbs that we grow for our formula. Tierra Sol Farm is a GREEN company. We grow organically, buy locally, and we’re reusing. We reuse boxes for shipping to help reduce waste. * Results May Vary

“Howl” by Allen Ginsberg updated for the Occupation

Howl

Updated by Breezy Kiefair

For my friends, fans, and fiends

I

I saw the best minds of my generation valiantly struggling to destroy the madness, starving hysterical educated,

dragging themselves through the occupied streets at dawn looking for a fix to their righteous anger,

angelheaded hempsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating class warfare,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El train and saw First Nation spirit guides pale and staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with perscribed narcotic hazed eyes.. desperatley trying to conquer physical pain inside the dream of Ginsberg’s school whilst Debting Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war and peace,

whose doctors with the stroke of a pen excluded them from the academies for weak immune response & too many hospital visits and too much time off required…… and so retired to being a ghost in the machine publishing controversial essays on the benefits of cannabis therapy for the sick.

who cowered in rotten canvas tents in long dirty clothes, burning their resin, paying their land bills and heating canned goods on a candle in the absence of an indoor stove whilst listening to the Terror echoing still today and through the years,

who got busted for their sacramental pipes returning through Maine with a story of hope for Cleveland, Michigan and Colorado.

who grew fire out back of low end hotels in their RV or drank resin tincture on Paradise Mesa, dug in until death, conditions and the cold of hell in their torsos night after night

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, cannabis and lack and endless wails,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping towards poles of Canada & Mexico and the whole prohibition world, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote spirits haunting the land of no halls, backyard green tree cemetery falls, canna-bliss blowing over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teapotparty joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusk’s of the valley, ashcan rantings and kind cannabis on compassion makes you light of mind,

who chained themselves to their occupation. for the endless ride from park to holy jail on love and hope until the noise of mace and sticks brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the fear light of the memory of the dead man from the Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of the capitol building and when riot police came floated out and sat through the stale beer/coffee house dawn in desolate 16th Street, reading the crack of doom scroll across their social media news feeds.

who posted information continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Twin Towers onto of the moon

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, gifts for the Sacred place just cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen horizon mirage above reality’s plane. leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of the beauty of the world.

Who found it better suffering sweats and bone-grindings and migraines of junk-withdrawal in an MMJ state’s bleak furnished room, with the comfort of a pipe in hand and the knowledge they could use as much of this as their pain required and not worry about an unintended death.

who wandered around and around at midnight in the occupied parks wondering where to go, and remained, leaving no broken hearts except for their own, and even it, scrawled across a bit of cardboard and peacefully expressed for all of the anger and stress madness within their breasts.

who lit hash filled cigarettes at truck-stops truck-stops truck-stops racketing through snow toward lonesome freedom Maine in grandfather night,

who studied St. Jude, astral projection, and bop kabbalah, Rastafarian, the Egyptian book of the dead, the epic of Gilgamesh, and more because the universe instinctively vibrated at their feet in Nebraska.

who longed through the streets of Ohio seeking visionary First Nation guides who were visions themselves

who thought they were only mad when they have every right to be mad and their righteous indignation gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in pig cars on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight small-town blizzard Maine,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through ‘Mosa seeking meds or heat or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to the safety of the horse-lands,

who disappeared into the underground leaving nothing behind but the shadow of dungarees and the rocks we gathered for the house and ash of my heart scattered on the land, self sustainable American dream in ashes because I cant fund it beyond the empty land, and even that is for sale for survival’s sake.

who reappeared on the East Coast investigating the medicinal cannabis programs in other states in purple pure gift scarf and with big pacifist eyes sexy in their pale skin passing out information and stories in exchange for housing like a true bard of old.

who cold turkey-ed cigarettes repeatedly protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism (and picked them back up again in PTSD coping mechanism to throw them back down again and again),

who screamed in favor of the Cannabis haze of capitalism…. who distributed Congressional Supercommittee petitions in Universal Online square weeping and exposing the secrets of their hearts while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the severe weather sirens also wailed,

who broke down crying in protest parks as if they had been left naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,

who used their whit to strike at detectives and shrieked with delight in police-cars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and duty to protest.

who howled on their knees in the igloo and were dragged off the sidewalks waving signs and screaming valid points,

who let themselves be maced in the face, and screamed with joy for truth exposed,

who believed in equality for all, caresses and hints of unconditional love

who occupied in the morning and in the evenings and sent messages to delegation rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their opinions freely to whomever come who may,

who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a public forum when a small & vulnerable woman came to hear their wailing song.

who lost their loves to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,

who shared themselves ecstatic and insatiable and fell off the net, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate hope and prosperity eluding the last gyzym of consciousness, and a lighting a fire of self sustainability desire

who sweetened the minds of a million hearts trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but were prepared to sweeten the image of the sunrise, flashing truths under sad eyes and naked in the soul,

who went out traveling through Colorado in myriad stolen rides, A.G. secret hero of these poems, poet and activist of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable fingers given to censoring conformists and cigarettes shared with corrupted youth in Naropa writing work shop breaktime day. I sing to you on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside debates & especially quiet help in dreams.

who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden nightmare, and picked themselves up out of heart sore despair… not drunk yet hungover with heartless Tokay and horrors of Wall Street’s iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,

who walked all night with their souls full of dread on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the 1% to open to a room full of steamheat and and lack of worry,

who created great suicidal dramas on the appeasement of bankers of the Stock market under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,

who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of the Bowery,

who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build revolutions in their parks, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the acid rain skies surrounded by orange crates of theology wishing for wide open spaces,

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish, rambling and unpublishable without a proofreader’s eye

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for a banana,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for an Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next century,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,

who were tortured alive in their innocent flannel suits on social security disability amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality, your government docs say your too sick to work, your government says your life is worth $17.42 a day. Make that work you sick lady in the wild all on your own.

who were trapped on the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of the protests, not even one tagline

who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the dream’s window, jumped in the filthy Greyhound, leaped on haters, cried all over the street, danced on broken glass pipes barefoot..

who polar bear-ed it across frozen mesa to prove a point to psychopathic husband…. smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz screamed it was 1929 again, finished the joint and still stumbled down the hall just in time for their disease to make them throw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal auditory sensitivity.

who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch a widespread panic incarnation,

who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loaned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,

who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to the social media class,

who retired to MMJ state to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or France to teach medicine or Southern border to live cheaply or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the feds of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,

who threw Knowledge at political pundits and gave lectures on history to representatives and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with the shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous reversion to the constitution,

and who were given instead the concrete void of mainstream media, refused electricity, cold-water hydrotherapy long before the dawn, applications for protest trademark names, occupational therapy in the for of police brutality & amnesia,

who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic table, resting briefly in catatonia as the peaceful prepare their souls for pain.

returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the corruptions and small-town censorship of infanticide in the East,

Pueblo State’s mountain views and Excelsior’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,

with bio-family finally *****, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger on the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination— yet in the mind hope still remains

ah, working class, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—

and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,

whose written dreams made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus

to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,

the madman bum and angel citizen in Time, unknown, yet posting here what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose incarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio

with the absolute heart of the poem butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

Howl

For Carl Solomon

I

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping towards poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost batallion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon

yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railway yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the universe instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving nothing behind but the shadow of dungarees and the larva and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism, who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,

who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,

who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,

who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,

who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,

who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,

who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,

who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,

who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,

who copulated ecstatic and insatiate and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,

who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but were prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,

who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,

who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hungover with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,

who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open full of steamheat and opium,

who created great suicidal dramas on the appartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,

who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of the Bowery,

who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,

who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for an Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,

who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,

who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,

who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch Birmingham jazz incarnation,

who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,

who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,

who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,

who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,

who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturerson Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with the shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,

and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,

who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,

returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,

Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,

with mother finally *****, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger on the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination—

ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—

and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,

who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soulbetween 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus

to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose incarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio

with the absolute heart of the poem butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

II

Breezy Kiefair

What Harpy of regulations bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Inequality! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Inequality! Moloch! Nightmare of Money! 1% the loveless! Mental Moloch! State controlled Media the heavy judge of men!

Class Warfare the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Super-Congress of sorrows! Wall Street whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Money for the stunned governments!

My country whose mind has become pure machinery! My Country whose blood is running money! My Country whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! My Country whose ear is an unknown and smoking tomb! My country who adopted me and is therefore my parent.

My parents whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! My parents whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovas! My parents whose factories dream and choke in the fog while paying down their carbon footprint as if the damage was undone! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities making my body ache!!

Moloch is My father whose love is endless oil and stone! My father whose soul is electricity and banks! My home whose poverty is the specter of genius! My home whose fate is an uncertain roller coaster based on regulations that keep shrinking my resources! Freedom’s only home now whose name is the Mind!

Moloch is My home in whom I sit lonely! My home in whom I dream angels! Crazy in Moloch! Crazy Bitch in Moloch! Lacklove and friendless in My home!

Moloch who entered and attempted to own my soul early! My home, in your information superhighway I become am a consciousness not bound so much by a disabled body! My father who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! My parents I abandon! Wake up in my country! Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! Corporate Persons! invincible house or representatives! granite senates! Corrupt lobbyists! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting their country to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American Dream river turned to flushing toilet!

Dreams! adoration! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of bill of rights constitutional BULLSHIT!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and revolutions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the the edge! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street! Were the 99%! This is what martial law looks like! As they are beaten back but do not submit.

II

What sphinx of cement and aluminium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?

Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!

Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgement! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!

Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovas! Moloch whose factories dream and choke in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisable suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstacies! gone down the American river!

Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

III
Breezy Kiefair
Occupy Together! I’m with you on Wall Street

where you’re louder than I am

I’m with you in Oakland

where you must feel strange

I’m with you in Saint Louis

where you imitate the shade of my mother

I’m with you in Michigan

where you’re brother murdered a baby so you covered up the archives and put him to work as an administrative assistant.

I’m with my regulars

who pick apart and you laugh at this invisible humor

I’m with you in Denver

where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

I’m with you in Colorado Springs

where your traveling protester’s condition has become serious and is reported on the radio

I’m with you in my heart

where the faculties of the skull admit the worms of the senses but only in shades of pain

I’m with you in Nederland

where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Indica

I’m with you in Facebookland

where you sell nugs with the bodies of your nurses

I’m with you in Facebookland

where I scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of actual chess of the abyss

I’m with you in Facebookland

where you bang on the catatonic newsfeed

What’s on my mind? “the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse”

I’m with you in Facebookland

where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void

I’m with you in Facebookland

where we accuse our doctors of cruelty, insanity and plot the revolution against the bankers influence and unequal distribution of wealth..

I’m with you in Facebookland

where you will split the heavens and find the beauty where you are, resurrecting your living human freedoms from the superhuman tomb

I’m with you in Facebookland

where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of the songs of their youth all saying there is hope and we rebel.

I’m with you in Facebookland

where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and whose problems won’t let us sleep

I’m with you in Facebookland

where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ chemtrails roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop censorship bombs the digital hospital illuminates itself   imaginary walls collapse   O skinny legions run outside   O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here   O victory forget your underwear we’re free

I’m with you in Facebookland

in my dreams you drive from the story of your-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night to build a life here with me away from such woe.

III

Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland

where you’re madder than I am

I’m with you in Rockland

where you must feel strange

I’m with you in Rockland

where you imitate the shade of my mother

I’m with you in Rockland

where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries

I’m with you in Rockland

where you laugh at this invisible humour

I’m with you in Rockland

where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

I’m with you in Rockland

where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio

I’m with you in Rockland

where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses

I’m with you in Rockland

where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica

I’m with you in Rockland

where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx

I’m with you in Rockland

where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of actual pingpong of the abyss

I’m with you in Rockland

where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse

I’m with you in Rockland

where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a cross in the void

I’m with you in Rockland

where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the fascist national Golgotha

I’m with you in Rockland

where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from the superhuman tomb

I’m with you in Rockland

where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale

I’m with you in Rockland

where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs all night and won’t let us sleep

I’m with you in Rockland

where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself   imaginary walls collapse   O skinny legions run outside   O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here   O victory forget your underwear we’re free

I’m with you in Rockland

in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night

Footnote To Howl by Allen Ginsberg

Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!
The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand
and asshole holy!
Everything is holy! everybody’s holy! everywhere is
holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman’s an
angel!
The bum’s as holy as the seraphim! the madman is
holy as you my soul are holy!
The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is
holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!
Holy Peter holy Allen holy Solomon holy Lucien holy
Kerouac holy Huncke holy Burroughs holy Cas-
sady holy the unknown buggered and suffering
beggars holy the hideous human angels!
Holy my mother in the insane asylum! Holy the cocks
of the grandfathers of Kansas!
Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop
apocalypse! Holy the jazzbands marijuana
hipsters peace & junk & drums!
Holy the solitudes of skyscrapers and pavements! Holy
the cafeterias filled with the millions! Holy the
mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!
Holy the lone juggernaut! Holy the vast lamb of the
middle class! Holy the crazy shepherds of rebell-
ion! Who digs Los Angeles IS Los Angeles!
Holy New York Holy San Francisco Holy Peoria &
Seattle Holy Paris Holy Tangiers Holy Moscow
Holy Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy the
clocks in space holy the fourth dimension holy
the fifth International holy the Angel in Moloch!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy the railroad holy the
locomotive holy the visions holy the hallucina-
tions holy the miracles holy the eyeball holy the
abyss!
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours!
bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent
kindness of the soul!

“America” by Allen Ginsberg updated for the Occupation (with Ballad of the skeletons)

America” and “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg updated for the Occupation and “Ballad of the Skeletons” as he wrote it”

October 28, 2011

America

Breezy Kiefair

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America seventeen dollars and forty two cents October 28, 2011.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?

go fuck yourself with your atom bomb, homeland security and martial law.
Go fuck yourself with your patriot act oppressing true patriots.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till my muse gives me the words.
America when will you return and be angelic? This world I live in is like a twilight zone episode of America’s greatness of yore
When will you take the wool off of your eyes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?

When will you open your eyes to the sick and dying? When will you see that we have value too? When will you correct the stress that kills disabled and working class alike?
When will you be worthy of your 99%
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you transform your spending from defense of oil to your peoples survival?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the dispensaries and get the effective medication I chose over narcotic poison with the same money Uncle Sam is happy to spend on things that make me more ill & could kill me?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.

Your human histories made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
My husband has gone underground I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the wild horses let me in their circle, seems horses understand me better than people.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, I can’t afford the subscriptions and everyday somebody goes on trial for murder. It just reminds me of my murdered kid and justice miscarried..
America I feel sentimental about wildlife and national parks.
America I used to be an nerd when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet. While reading the free library that is the internet and sharing it with the world.
When I go to town I get supplies and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me eating libraries.
My psychoanalyst thought my logic is perfectly sound and advised me to trust it.
I WILL say whatever prayer I feel like wherever I feel like saying it. Cannabis IS a religious sacrament and a valid use of my first amendment freedom of speech and religion America the constitution is beautiful with a built in process of beautiful change.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations. I am not ashamed.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Grandpa John after he came home from ‘Nam

I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by the mainstream media?
I’m obsessed by the mainstream media.
I read it every day.
Its pages stare at me every time I open my computer to get some human connection.
I read it in the homeless shelters, in the basement of the Tattered Cover Bookstore,

in the basement of the NYC Greyhound station,

in social clubs for the insane in Maine,

In the greyhound station of Cleveland,

in Michigan Libraries

and on back to Denver,

to Union Station.

And I read it still out here in the wild.

Surrounded by nature at the roof of the world where I feel a bit more safe..
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Bankers are serious. Businessmen are serious. Lobbyists are serious. Movie producers are serious. Comedians are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

My country is rising against me.
I haven’t got a unemployed person’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of minds
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
99%’ers occupying my the ground.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the medicines that don’t work for me, and the GMO foods are next to go..
My ambition is to contribute to society despite the doctors saying I’m too sick for anything..

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my thoughts are as individual as his
automobiles more so if we planted hemp and made hemp oil returning to his original engine design we could stop worrying about oil.
America I will sell you all that I have just to survive.
America free Marc Emery
America save the Medical Marijuana Community & legalize
America we execute innocent too often they must not die.
America I am the 99%.
America you don’t really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad terrorists
Them terrorists them terrorists and them North Koreans. And them Terrorists.
The al Queda wants to eat us alive. The Al Queda‘s power mad. They wants to take
our cars from out our garages.

Oh my precious oil, must protect the precious oil…

when we can grow an oil far better on the land that is ours & should be so free.

They wants to squash Denver. They needs a edu-ma-cation. Ther wants our
auto plants to go to Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh.. Uncle Sam need big strong workmen at a wage guaranteed to make you weak..
Hah. Them make us all work massive overtime with no overtime pay as I watched my friend get laid off today. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking at the net and social media posts of your people.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts in factories,

I tried factory work already, I’m nearsighted,chronically ill and psychologically unstable anyway.
America I’m putting my bisexual artists research obsessed shoulder to the wheel.

America

Allen Ginsberg

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.

I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they’re all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.


Ballad Of The Skeletons Lyrics by: Allen Ginsberg

Said the Presidential Skeleton 

I won’t sign the bill 

Said the Speaker skeleton 

Yes you will 

Said the Representative Skeleton 

I object 

Said the Supreme Court skeleton 

Whaddya expect 

Said the Miltary skeleton 

Buy Star Bombs 

Said the Upperclass Skeleton 

Starve unmarried moms 

Said the Yahoo Skeleton 

Stop dirty art 

Said the Right Wing skeleton 

Forget about yr heart 

Said the Gnostic Skeleton 

The Human Form’s divine 

Said the Moral Majority skeleton 

No it’s not it’s mine 

Said the Buddha Skeleton 

Compassion is wealth 

Said the Corporate skeleton 

It’s bad for your health 

Said the Old Christ skeleton 

Care for the Poor 

Said the Son of God skeleton 

AIDS needs cure 

Said the Homophobe skeleton 

Gay folk suck 

Said the Heritage Policy skeleton 

Blacks’re outa luck 

Said the Macho skeleton 

Women in their place 

Said the Fundamentalist skeleton 

Increase human race 

Said the Right-to-Life skeleton 

Foetus has a soul 

Said Pro Choice skeleton 

Shove it up your hole 

Said the Downsized skeleton 

Robots got my job 

Said the Tough-on-Crime skeleton 

Tear gas the mob 

Said the Governor skeleton 

Cut school lunch 

Said the Mayor skeleton 

Eat the budget crunch 

Said the Neo Conservative skeleton 

Homeless off the street! 

Said the Free Market skeleton 

Use ’em up for meat 

Said the Think Tank skeleton 

Free Market’s the way 

Said the Saving & Loan skeleton 

Make the State pay 

Said the Chrysler skeleton 

Pay for you & me 

Said the Nuke Power skeleton 

& me & me & me 

Said the Ecologic skeleton 

Keep Skies blue 

Said the Multinational skeleton 

What’s it worth to you? 

Said the NAFTA skeleton 

Get rich, Free Trade, 

Said the Maquiladora skeleton 

Sweat shops, low paid 

Said the rich GATT skeleton 

One world, high tech 

Said the Underclass skeleton 

Get it in the neck 

Said the World Bank skeleton 

Cut down your trees 

Said the I.M.F. skeleton 

Buy American cheese 

Said the Underdeveloped skeleton 

We want rice 

Said Developed Nations’ skeleton 

Sell your bones for dice 

Said the Ayatollah skeleton 

Die writer die 

Said Joe Stalin’s skeleton 

That’s no lie 

Said the Middle Kingdom skeleton 

We swallowed Tibet 

Said the Dalai Lama skeleton 

Indigestion’s whatcha get 

Said the World Chorus skeleton 

That’s their fate 

Said the U.S.A. skeleton 

Gotta save Kuwait 

Said the Petrochemical skeleton 

Roar Bombers roar! 

Said the Psychedelic skeleton 

Smoke a dinosaur 

Said Nancy’s skeleton 

Just say No 

Said the Rasta skeleton 

Blow Nancy Blow 

Said Demagogue skeleton 

Don’t smoke Pot 

Said Alcoholic skeleton 

Let your liver rot 

Said the Junkie skeleton 

Can’t we get a fix? 

Said the Big Brother skeleton 

Jail the dirty pricks 

Said the Mirror skeleton 

Hey good looking 

Said the Electric Chair skeleton 

Hey what’s cooking? 

Said the Talkshow skeleton 

Fuck you in the face 

Said the Family Values skeleton 

My family values mace 

Said the NY Times skeleton 

That’s not fit to print 

Said the CIA skeleton 

Cantcha take a hint? 

Said the Network skeleton 

Believe my lies 

Said the Advertising skeleton 

Don’t get wise! 

Said the Media skeleton 

Believe you me 

Said the Couch-potato skeleton 

What me worry? 

Said the TV skeleton 

Eat sound bites 

Said the Newscast skeleton 

That’s all Goodnight

 

Remembering a Murdered boy: Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts. Happy would-be 13th birthday 7:47pm (birth minute)

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This is the pamphlet from his funeral.

This is the pamphlet from his funeral.

Westley Was premature. this was his first day home from the hospital. — in Fairfax, Virginia. October 30, 1998

Westley Was premature. this was his first day home from the hospital. — in Fairfax, Virginia. October 30, 1998

Westley and I moved to Hillsdale, Michigan where I had attended & graduated from Hillsdale High School in 1997 — in Homer, Michigan.

Westley and I moved to Hillsdale, Michigan where I had attended & graduated from Hillsdale High School in 1997 — in Homer, Michigan.

Here he is with his favorite rattle in the shape of a guitar.

Here he is with his favorite rattle in the shape of a guitar.

I'm gonna stand up and start walkin soon ma... just you wait... just gotta do a few more strenght building exercises to get in shape... come on E'ore lets do it!

I’m gonna stand up and start walkin soon ma… just you wait… just gotta do a few more strenght building exercises to get in shape… come on E’ore lets do it!

Westley's 1st birthday party. he loved this toy. its a rocker with a plastic book on top. each page has different sounds on the buttons & that red paddle goes "broinggggggggg"& stays in motion for a bit every time you "broinggggggg" it... it was so cool to watch him giggle with this.

Westley’s 1st birthday party. he loved this toy. its a rocker with a plastic book on top. each page has different sounds on the buttons & that red paddle goes “broinggggggggg”& stays in motion for a bit every time you “broinggggggg” it… it was so cool to watch him giggle with this.

We lived between Hillsdale, Michigan and and Homer, Michigan in Southern Michigan

We lived between Hillsdale, Michigan and and Homer, Michigan in Southern Michigan

On May 6, 2000 Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts sustained injuries in this bathtub. He suffered a blow to the abdomen so severe it ruptured his intestines. It took him 12 hours to die. He died while I gave him CPR just after getting home from work. He was Dead on arrival. they never got a pulse.

On May 6, 2000 Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts sustained injuries in this bathtub. He suffered a blow to the abdomen so severe it ruptured his intestines. It took him 12 hours to die. He died while I gave him CPR just after getting home from work. He was Dead on arrival. they never got a pulse.

If all works out according to plan, this will be posted on my only child’s birth minute on what would have been his 13th birthday.

I have often said that we have a word for people who loose all family members but children (widow/widower, orphan, ect) partially because of historical mortality rates of children and partially because it is a loss so horrible there just isn’t a word to describe the feeling. I will never forget you Westley. You changed me as a person for the better & for this, I am forever grateful to you.

I named my only child Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts. I agonized in research for months looking for the right name. Westley and Keaton together means ~”loosely” man from the field where the Hawks go in Gaelic. Westley was also in deference to of my I don’t know how many great(s)-uncle named Westley O’Connor who family legend says worked with the first pine-bark beetle infestations in Colorado. Thorin was for the character Thorin Oakenshield in J. R. R. Tolkien‘s book “The Hobbit” and also because his biological father had requested that “Thor” be in the name some where. The other hidden joke in Westleys’ Name will already be seen by fans of the movie “The Princess Bride” whose main character Wesley becomes “the dread pirate roberts” later on.

Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts
born 10/24/1998 7:47pm Fairfax, Virginia in Fair Oaks Hospital

murdered 05/06/2000 (finally passed late around 11:59pm) Homer, Mi

On May 6, 2000 Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts sustained injuries in a bathtub. He suffered a blow to the abdomen so severe it ruptured his intestines. It took him 12 hours to die. He died while I gave him CPR just after getting home from work. He was Dead on arrival. they never got a pulse. His death was ruled a homicide. The only person with Westley that day was my fiance. I will not say his name.

Justice miscarried (murderer acquitted on a technicality Jan/Feb 2001) Battle Creek, MI

This is a video of art I have created between March of 2009 and September 2010. It is set to a song written by a friend of mine in real life from High School after the murder of my only child, Westley Thorin Keaton Roberts.

the below link will take you to where this video was first posted on facebook.

http://www.facebook.com/v/150854724934545

On October 23, 2011, I went looking for the online link for my son’s obituary. I have seen it online in the past. It should be on this page:

If you think I am being paranoid about my kid’s obituary being erased, please view the link. Yet the little girl who was raped & murdered & her body burned a few weeks after Westley is still there….. relevant excerpt below:

April 26, 2000

Robert Keith Rice, Sr.
Robert Keith Rice, Sr., 72, of Litchfield, died Thursday, April 20, 2000, at home.
Mr. Rice was born November 21, 1927, in Northwest Township, Ohio, to Ross O. and Belva (Seely) Rice. He married Hazel I. (Coats) Dickinson January 14, 1989. She survives.
Mr. Rice had been a machinist at Adwest in Hillsdale, as well as several other area shops. He was a WWII Army veteran and enjoyed membership in a motorcycle club. Mr. Rice was an avid hunter, fisherman and woodworker.
In addition to his wife, Mr. Rice is survived by two daughters, Tresia Moon of San Bernardino, California, and Laura Ann Johnson of Litchfield; a son, Robert K. Rice, Jr. of Bronson; five stepchildren, Diane Ely of Jacksonville, Florida, Doris Isaac of Westland, Esther McPherson of Marshall, Mary Dickinson of Hillsdale and Mickey Dickinson of Homer; a sister, Mildred Crawford of Camden; 16 grandchildren; and seven great-grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by a sister.
Funeral services were held Monday, April 24, at the Camden Missionary Church, with Pastor Jeff Truex officiating. Interment followed at the Camden Cemetery.
Memorial contributions are suggested to the family.
Arrangements were handled by the St. John-White Funeral Home in Reading.

Frederick “Fritz” Lincoln
Frederick “Fritz” Lincoln, 76, of Litchfield, died Saturday, April 22, 2000, at his home.
Mr. Lincoln was born September 1, 1923, in Wayne County, to Zara Byron and Ada (Gladding) Lincoln. He owned and operated a service station in Litchfield for 17 years and was a foundry superintendent at Gale Manufacturing for more than 20 years. He was also a farmer.
Mr. Lincoln was a World War II army veteran, serving in the European Theatre, where he participated in the Normandy invasion. He received four Bronze Stars and the Purple Heart. He was a former member of the Homer American Legion, and enjoyed deer hunting, gardening and harness racing.
Survivors include a daughter, Bonnie Ament of Big Sandy, Tennessee; a son, Fred Lincoln of Reading; a companion, Betty Tervol of Litchfield; two sisters, Laura Doman of Horton and Zarena Coates of Warren; four grandchildren; and three great-grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by two brothers, two sisters and a grandson.
Funeral services were held Tuesday, April 25, at the George White Funeral Home in Litchfield, with the Rev. Clyde Wonders officiating. Interment followed in Burlington Cemetery in Calhoun County.
Memorials are suggested to the Hospice of Hillsdale County.

May 3, 2000 – No obits

May 10, 2000

Charlotte May Merica
Charlotte May Merica, 83, of Homer, died Saturday, May 6, 2000, at Branch County Health Center in Coldwater.
Mrs. Merica was born August 18, 1916, in Walcottville, Indiana, to Franklin and Wilma (Keck) Slagle. She married Marion McVee Merica July 11, 1932. He preceded her in death in 1973.
Mrs. Merica came to the Homer area in 1936. She was a homemaker, who loved to cook and sew.
Survivors include two sons, William F. Merica of Montpelier, Ohio, and Walter L. (Annabelle) Merica of Homer; three daughters, Marjorie Robinson of Homer, Mrs. George (Joyce) Stanley of Quincy, and Mrs. Eugene (Mary) Ballinger of Homer; 17 grandchildren; 33 great-grandchildren; two great-great grandchildren; and a sister, Gladys Pauline Tech of Litchfield.
In addition to her husband, Mrs. Merica was preceded in death by a brother, Leroy Eugene Slagle, and two sisters, Winona Stull and Dolly Slagle.
Funeral services were Tuesday, May 9, at the Homer Chapel of Tidd-Williams Funeral Chapels, Inc., with Mrs. Teresa Bonifield leading the service. Burial was in Westside Cemetery in Colon.

scroll down and you will see
Ashlee Linnabary
Ashlee Linnabary, 4, of Homer, died Monday, May 22, 2000, at home.
Survivors include her mother, Jessica Moyer; her father, William Linnabary; a sister, Abagail; a brother, William; grandparents, Dale and Becky Andrews, Doug Moyer and Vernon and Carol Linnabary; and great-grandparents, James and Edith Dun, Andy Andrews and Margaret Linnabary.
Funeral services were held Friday, May 26, at the Charles J. Burden & Sons Funeral Home in Jackson. Burial was in Hillcrest Memorial Park in Jackson.
Memorials are suggested to the Council for the Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect.
http://www.homerindex.com/obituary_archives.sml?send_year=2000

You can read more about her and her tragic story as well as many other stories of lost angels by clicking this sentence.

so, if to want to erase a baby’s name from history you probably have a good reason…. right? well it just so happens I know who has both motive & power to make such a thing happen… why? The sister of my fiance at the time was then/is now the head of the chamber of commerce a town or two over. I rented the trailer where he was murdered from her. She wanted this little “fiasco” with her brother to disappear…. and I guess she thought it did.

my son’s obituary has been erased from history apparently…. in a town as small as Homer, Michigan… i find it highly suspect. especially when the guy who was acquitted on a technicality in my son’s death has a sister in a nearby town who is the head of a chamber of commerce…. really respectful of them to erase his name from history…

more pics of westley

View all

When he went on trial, they spun it like I was a horrible mom who didnt care about my child and faked being sick (two years after wes died, I was placed on SSD/SSI because of my chronic pain, five more years later I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia) ….. they did a good job of smearing me then & i nearly killed myself over the way they blithely lied repeatedly in court and got others to do the same……. in the end, there is nothing I can do…. he cannot be tried twice for the same crime & he was acquitted because the DA made an error.

The near suicide attempts were 10 years ago during the trial. I haven’t been at that point in a long time. Keep in mind my heart/mind were utterly destroyed by that point. I’d been in the mental hospital for 1/2 a year trying to cope with losing my only kid… in court they were attacking vehemently, even using my own writings about my abuse committed on me to make it seem that I was having FANTASIES OF HURTING MY CHILD……. there really isn’t anything to be done but talk about it, get it out of my system, then let it be…. statuate of limitations for a civil suit expired long ago. I didn’t have the bank or a lawyer willing to take the case at the time.

who really cares that wes is gone? you who made sure his name disappeared? or me who went looking for it 11 years later to be sure it was still there…. all the news reports of the trial seem to have been “sanitized” as well. I dug a bit further and found out that he is working for his sister at the chamber of commerce.

How the does a child murderer guilty as sin but acquitted on a technicality get to work for a city chamber of commerce? 2 words Corruption & NEPOTISM. I have further proof of this, but do not want to set into action anything that could get someone physically hurt, so I have left their names off this page. email btokeefer@gmail.com if you would like further information.

I remember you WESTLEY. I wont forget you.

UPDATE, May 11, 2012 a Remembrance by Westley’s pa.

Westley’s father, Jason William Roberts, was kind enough to provide me with these two images. THANK YOU! many of the youngest images of westley have been stolen by my family and are likely in a safe deposit box. I really do appreciate seeing this. I really am not angry at Jason in the least. Things were what they were, and neither of us can change the past… It was a long time ago. We have both paid dearly for whatever we did in the past. I understand that these two images are all that Jason has to view. Therefore, I will do my best to provide him with each and every image of Westley I have that still exists. It’s only right. If i have more than Jason does, and he will share with me, I can share back

The October 2011 Activism Activities of Breezy Kiefair

THIS BLOG TO REPLACE DELETED http://breezykiefair.wordpress.com/

Breezy deleted her old blog a few months ago. After several requests from friends for a new blog, and lots of activism news, I decided to bow to the request and open a new blog.

SO…. if you had been following http://breezykiefair.wordpress.com/

this: https://breedheenorilleykeefer.wordpress.com/

is your new source for content from the same source.

Below, you will find links to other online content.

Links for breezy’s involvement in the occupation in solidarity with OCCYPY WALL STREET

San Luis Valley Information
ALAMOSA OCCUPY TOGETHER meetup page

http://www.meetup.com/occupytogether/Alamosa-CO/

FB Planning Event
Time
Sunday, October 23 · 6:00pm – 9:00pm

Location

The Large Hospice Del Valle Meeting Room (Its a Potluck so please bring a something to share. Enter by the rear door of the building, off the parking lots behind the building. Feel free to bring friends)

More Info
SOLIDIFY WALL STREET
JOBS NOT CUTS – MAKE THEM PAY
 
PLANNING  MEETING  FOR  A  MAJOR DEMONSTRATION
Sunday, October 23, 2011
6:00 PM
It’s a pot luck, bring something to share.
 
Hospice Del Valle, 514 Main Street, Alamosa, CO 81101
Park in the lots behind the building.
Enter Hospice through the rear door.
Phone 719-227-9899 or email: VGail gforcevsa@yahoo.com
FB discussion group 
A MESSAGE FROM:

VGail  Vonderweidt
San Luis Valley Regional Organizer

I am VGail  Vonderweidt, Regional Organizer for Rebuild the American Dream, MoveOn.org. While we are strongly supporting the OWS movement it is important that you know that the Rebuild Movement strongly supports itself here in Alamosa and all across the country.
Early this past summer I attended a house meeting set up by MoveOn.org where hundreds of other house meetings across the country were gathering people together to develop a plan to fight the growing surge of the Republican and Tea Party to stall any actions of President Obama in restoring the economy. In fact, those groups are determined to destroy our country just to get this President out of office.
From those house meetings, many thousands of solutions were submitted to MoveOn.org who reached out to other peace loving organizations to refine all the submissions. The refinement ultimately resulted in the Contract for the American Dream. The ten solutions rang incredibly true for me. You can read all of these by typing in Google: Contract for the American Dream. And, I urge you to sign the Contract yourself. Over 300,000 Americans have already signed it.
I decided then that leaders were needed to generate interest and action by more and more people because it takes people like us to bring about change in our government. I have sent out a blanket request to the 84 members of our movement asking for someone to offer you a ride to the Sunday meeting.
Thank you for expressing an interest in the Rebuild the American Dream movement.

P R E S S  R E L E A S E

“SOLIDIFY OCCUPY WALL STREET” EVENT PLANNING MEETING
at Hospice Del Valle in Alamosa, Main Street, Alamosa
on Sunday, October 23rd, 2011, at 6:00 PM
Support the OCCUPY WALL STREET MOVEMENT across the country, MAKE WALL STREET PAY. The San Luis Valley Rebuild the American Dream Alamosa Council is holding a potluck EVENT PLANNING MEETING for an upcoming rally scheduled for November 5th, 2011. The NATIONAL ‘Rebuild the American Dream’ movement is working toward something bigger than last Friday’s JOBS NOT CUTS RALLY on Route 160!
      This Sunday’s meeting will be held on 10/23 and also on 10/26 if needed. Join us at 6:00 PM in the large Hospice Del Valle Meeting Room, located at 514 Main St., Alamosa CO 81101. Its a Potluck so please bring a something to share. Enter by the rear door of the building, off the parking lots behind the building. Feel free to bring friends. It was great fun last Friday and we’ll be planning more fun for November 5th. We are building momentum!
For more information telephone VGail Vonderweidt, 719-227-9899 or email her at gforcevsa@yahoo.com


VGail  Vonderweidt
San Luis Valley Regional Organizer
Rebuild the American Dream Movement
MoveOn.org
gforcevsa@yahoo.com
719-227-9899

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLE54993C30203A992

Occupy Alamosa Video content from youtube at above link^^^^^^^^

Sample video from playlist:

******Note on the video playlists, I will update them as necessary to include new content. please email any links I missed to btokeefer@gmail.com or  denveroccupied@gmail.com ******

OCCUPY DENVER/DENVER OCCUPIED INFO
Police Brutality Inverview: https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/10-15-2011-occupy-denver-arrests-the-story-you-probably-werent-told

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9E91E44F59D6806E

Occupy Denver Video content from youtube at above link^^^^^^^^^^^

sample video from playlist

Map to Protest Location in denver
http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&oe=UTF8&msa=0&msid=208166375239080501990.0004ae1710b88e0ce043d

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/occupy-denver-protest-pics

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/occupy-denver-videos

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/10-15-2011-occupy-denver-arrests-the-story-you-probably-werent-told

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/news-from-occupy-colorado-springs

https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home/contact-us

denver occupied email addy denveroccupied@gmail.com

denver occupied website
https://sites.google.com/site/denveroccupied/home
fb page http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002962468730

links about Breezy Kiefair
Parts of old blog preserved here
http://misshightimes.com/users/breezykiefair
Youtube Channel
http://www.youtube.com/user/Mr8MrsKiefAir?feature=mhsn

playlist of videos created by breezy kiefair:

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLDDE36959E6DC0055

sample videos from playlist:

~ Do all that you can to cultivate peace within yourself, that it might
shine out from you, and plant the seed of peace in other spirits, for them
to cultivate.~

{Remember… it is when we choose act on the issues that are in front of
our faces, when we choose to get involved instead of looking the other way
as our fellow man struggles, when we choose to take those small simple
little actions, working on righting little wrongs in our everyday lives that
really make change happen, those seemingly small actions are what really
make the world a better place and are a catalyst for greater social change.}
~Both quotes by Breedheen “Bree” O’Rilley Keefer~

Breezy Wants you to write an inmate

Breezy Wants you to write an inmate

by Breezy Kiefair on Sunday, August 28, 2011 at 3:18pm ·

Below follows a list of inmates who would appreciate a letter. Please feel free to add other inmates in the comments.

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2013-06-05 06.52.03 edit 1

Cannabis POWs that THE HUMAN SOLUTION would appreciate you writing

http://the-human-solution.org/prison-outreach-program/pow-stories/pow-easy-address-list/

Cannabis POWs:

Marilyn Hinda Green # 20400-075
FPC Alderson
Federal Prison Camp
P.O. Box A
Alderson, WV 24910

Gerry Lynn Campbell #20405-075
USP Marion
Satellite Prison Camp
P.O. Box 1000
Marion, IL 62959

Ronnie Smith #036312 Unit 4
Yavapa County Jail
Booking # 13-02676
2830 Commonwealth Dr #105
Camp Verde, AZ 86322

Israel Cavazos #63545-097
USP Florence ADMAX
U.S. Penitentiary
PO Box 8500
Florence, CO 81226

Jayme Jeff Walsh #125866
P.O. Box 490
Red Bluff, CA 96080

Jerry Laberdee #13904-085
FCI Sheridan
P.O. Box 6000
Sheridan, OR 97378

Shelley Waldron #16250-040
Lexington FMC
3301 Leestown Rd
Lexington, KY 40511

John Marcinkewicz #16252-040
Duluth FPC
6902 Stebner Rd
Duluth, MN 55814

Christopher Wayne Williams #11839-046
FCI Sheridan
Satellite Camp
P.O. Box 6000
Sheridan, OR 97378

Marion P Fry #15840-097
Dublin FCI
5701 8th Camp Park
Dublin Ca. 94568

Sherry Flor #11358-046
Federal Prison Camp
37930 N. 45th Ave
Phoenix, AZ 85086

Jeremy Duval #46344-039
FCI Morgantown
P.O. Box 1000
Morgantown, WV 26507

Jaycob Montague #16251-040
FCI Pekin
P.O. Box 5000
Pekin IL 61555

Bryan Epis #09636-097
FCI Terminal Island
P.O. Box 3007
San Pedro, CA 90731

Dustin Robert Costa #62406-097
Federal Prison Camp
P.O. Box 5000
Florence, CO 81226

Aaron Sandusky #63038-112
FCI Big Spring
1900 Simler Avenue
Big Spring, TX 79720

Dale C Schafer #15839-097
CI Taft
P.O. Box 7001
Taft, CA 93268

Richard Ruiz Montes #63130-097
FCI Lompoc
3600 Guard Road
Lompoc, CA 93436

Timothy Dellas #93161-011
FCI Sheridan Federal Prison Camp
PO Box 6000, Unit 5
Sheridan, OR 97378-6000

Luke Scarmazzo #63131-097
FCI Lompoc
3901 Klein Blvd
Lompoc, CA 93436

Charles Edward Lepp #90157-011
FCI La Tuna
P.O. Box 6000
Anthony, TX 88021

Eric Christopher Stacy #64977-097
CCM Sacramento
Community Corrections Office
501 I Street, Suite 9-400
Sacramento, CA 95814

Charles Lee Kisor #64974-097
CI Taft
P.O. Box 7001
Taft, CA 93268

Christopher Bartkowicz #36791-013
USP Leavenworth
U.S. Penitentiary
P.O. Box 1000
Leavenworth, KS 66048

Virgil Edward Grant #47375-112
FCI Terminal Island
PO Box 3007
San Pedro, CA 90731

Scott Eric Feil #14313-111
CI Taft
P.O. Box 7001
Taft, CA 93268

Marc Emery, #40252-086
Yazoo City, Med FCI
P.O. Box 5888
Yazoo City, MS 39194

Roger Christie #99279-022
FDC Honolulu
P.O. Box 30080
Honolulu, HI  96820

Ronnie Montojo Chang #28613-298
220 W C Street
San Diego, CA 92101

Older addresses

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Floyd Martinez

#66119

P.O. Box 777

Canon City CO

81215

*** Breezy has written Floyd herself…  a few times over the years.. he’s cool.***

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MARC EMERY #40252-086

FCI YAZOO CITY – MEDIUM E-1

P.O. BOX 5888

YAZOO CITY, MS

39194

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Ken Burke #10021-091
Federal Correctional Complex
FCI Victorville #1
P.O. Box 5300
Adelanto, CA 92301
Would be cool if it were someone in California because then there would be the possibility of a visit too!! I think he has about 5 years left…not sure why he’s in there but he’s definitely on the weed team.

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Darlene Spears #131779
P.O. Box 392005, Denver, CO 80239
Breezy’s bio-sister says this about Darlene:

She was my cell mate when I was doing my time. She’s doing life without parole…She’s accused of murder…She told me she’s innocent. She’s accused of murdering her husband she claims that her husband told on some people down south and that they were the ones who murdered him I liked her a lot..Sad they gave her life without parole

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this inmate has been released
Ronnie Smith
c/o Yavapai county Jail
Inmate #036312 Unit 4
Booking # 13-02676
2830 Commonwealth Dr #105
Camp Verde, AZ 86322-9998

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