Alaskans fed up with Palin

From the group "Alaskans for Truth"

McCain debates himself

I don't seek the presidency on the presumption I'm blessed with such personal greatness that history has anointed me to save my country in its hour of need. My country saved me, and I cannot forget it. And I will fight for her for as long as I draw breath, so help me God." -- Senator John McCain, campaigning in New Orleans, June 2008

I didn't decide to run for president to start a national crusade for the political reforms I believed in or to run a campaign as if it were some grand act of patriotism. In truth, I wanted to be president because it had become my ambition to be president. . . . In truth, I'd had the ambition for a long time." John McCain, "Worth Fighting For," 2002

I love YouTube! so good people have begun to put together video clips showing, side-by-side that McCain directly contradicts himself when needed... see for yourself...

Two easy actions...

Update:
It's working!
http://www.crooksandliars.com/2008/09/25/thanks-sarah-planned-parenthood-gets-upsurge-in-donations/

In addition to sending around more emails about how horrible she is, let's all make a donation to Planned Parenthood... in Sarah Palin's name!
And here's the good part: when you make a donation to PP in her
name, they'll send her a card telling her that the donation has
been made in her honor. Here's the link to the Planned
Parenthood website:
Here's the link: https://secure.ga0.org/02/pp10000_inhonor

You'll need to fill in the address to let PP know where to send
the "in Sarah Palin's honor" card. I suggest you use the address
for the McCain campaign headquarters, which is:

McCain for President
1235 S. Clark Street
1st Floor
Arlington , VA 22202

PS make sure you use that link above or choose the pull-down of
Donate--Honorary or Memorial Donations, not the regular "Donate
Online."

Also:

PBS has a poll that asks: Is Sarah Palin qualified to be VP? Let's turn this around..... You don't have to give your name or email address in order to vote. It's very simple.
Here is a small thing you can do in two clicks – SECONDS! Check this out please and fast.
The Right is having people vote that Palin is qualified…

Let's turn this around!!!

Here's the link: http://www.pbs.org/now/polls/poll-435.html

Just click & vote… NOW.

Eve Ensler on Gov. Palin

Eve Ensler, the American playwright, performer, feminist and activist best
known for "The Vagina Monologues", wrote the following about Sarah Palin.

Drill, Drill, Drill

I am having Sarah Palin nightmares. I dreamt last night that she was a
member of a club where they rode snowmobiles and wore the claws of drowned
and starved polar bears around their necks. I have a particular thing for
Polar Bears. Maybe it's their snowy whiteness or their bigness or the fact
that they live in the arctic or that I have never seen one in person or
touched one. Maybe it is the fact that they live so comfortably on ice.
Whatever it is, I need the polar bears.

I don't like raging at women. I am a Feminist and have spent my life trying
to build community, help empower women and stop violence against them. It is
hard to write about Sarah Palin. This is why the Sarah Palin choice was all
the more insidious and cynical. The people who made this choice count on the
goodness and solidarity of Feminists.

But everything Sarah Palin believes in and practices is antithetical to
Feminism which for me is part of one story -- connected to saving the earth,
ending racism, empowering women, giving young girls options, opening our
minds, deepening tolerance, and ending violence and war.

I believe that the McCain/Palin ticket is one of the most dangerous choices
of my lifetime, and should this country choose those candidates the fall-out
may be so great, the destruction so vast in so many areas that America may
never recover. But what is equally disturbing is the impact that duo would
have on the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this is not a joke. In my
lifetime I have seen the clownish, the inept, the bizarre be elected to the
presidency with regularity.

Sarah Palin does not believe in evolution. I take this as a metaphor. In her
world and the world of Fundamentalists nothing changes or gets better or
evolves. She does not believe in global warming. The melting of the arctic,
the storms that are destroying our cities, the pollution and rise of
cancers, are all part of God's plan. She is fighting to take the polar
bears off the endangered species list. The earth, in Palin's view, is here
to be taken and plundered. The wolves and the bears are here to be shot and
plundered. The oil is here to be taken and plundered. Iraq is here to be
taken and plundered. As she said herself of the Iraqi war, "It was a task
from God."

Sarah Palin does not believe in abortion. She does not believe women who are
raped and incested and ripped open against their will should have a right to
determine whether they have their rapist's baby or not.

She obviously does not believe in sex education or birth control. I imagine
her daughter was practicing abstinence and we know how many babies that
makes.

Sarah Palin does not much believe in thinking. From what I gather she has
tried to ban books from the library, has a tendency to dispense with people
who think independently. She cannot tolerate an environment of ambiguity and
difference. This is a woman who could and might very well be the next
president of the United States. She would govern one of the most diverse
populations on the earth.

Sarah believes in guns. She has her own custom Austrian hunting rifle. She
has been known to kill 40 caribou at a clip. She has shot hundreds of wolves
from the air.

Sarah believes in God. That is of course her right, her private right. But
when God and Guns come together in the public sector, when war is declared
in God's name, when the rights of women are denied in his name, that is the
end of separation of church and state and the undoing of everything America
has ever tried to be.

I write to my sisters. I write because I believe we hold this election in
our hands. This vote is a vote that will determine the future not just of
the U.S., but of the planet. It will determine whether we create policies to
save the earth or make it forever uninhabitable for humans. It will
determine whether we move towards dialogue and diplomacy in the world or
whether we escalate violence through invasion, undermining and attack. It
will determine whether we go for oil, strip mining, coal burning or invest
our money in alternatives that will free us from dependency and destruction.
It will determine if money gets spent on education and healthcare or whether
we build more and more methods of killing. It will determine whether America
is a free open tolerant society or a closed place of fear, fundamentalism
and aggression.

If the Polar Bears don't move you to go and do everything in your power to
get Obama elected then consider the chant that filled the hall after Palin
spoke at the RNC, "Drill Drill Drill." I think of teeth when I think of
drills. I think of rape. I think of destruction. I think of domination. I
think of military exercises that force mindless repetition, emptying the
brain of analysis, doubt, ambiguity or dissent. I think of pain.

Do we want a future of drilling? More holes in the ozone, in the floor of
the sea, more holes in our thinking, in the trust between nations and
peoples, more holes in the fabric of this precious thing we call life?

Eve Ensler
September 5, 2008

Women against Sarah Palin

Under her mayorship, the city of Wasilla, AK passed a new law making rape victims pay for their own rape kits and exams. Where the hell did this woman come from? This is a nightmare and the American people need to wake up and rise up against this Republican ticket.

For more information go to:
http://womenagainstsarahpalin.org/

Grizzlybay.org shows that even some Alaskans aren't fond of her...
http://www.grizzlybay.org/SarahPalinInfoPage.htm

McCain/Palin blithly lie, no one cares

Why don't facts matter anymore?

By CHARLES BABINGTON, Associated Press Writer Fri Sep 12, 12:43 PM ET

WASHINGTON - The "Straight Talk Express" has detoured into doublespeak.

Republican presidential nominee John McCain, a self-proclaimed tell-it-like-it-is maverick, keeps saying his running mate, Sarah Palin, killed the federally funded Bridge to Nowhere when, in fact, she pulled her support only after the project became a political embarrassment. He said Friday that Palin never asked for money for lawmakers' pet projects as Alaska governor, even though she has sought nearly $200 million in earmarks this year. He says Obama would raise nearly everyone's taxes, when independent groups say 80 percent of families would get tax cuts instead.

Even in a political culture accustomed to truth-stretching, McCain's skirting of facts has stood out this week. It has infuriated and flustered Obama's campaign, and campaign pros are watching to see how much voters disregard news reports noting factual holes in the claims.

McCain's persistence in pushing dubious claims is all the more notable because many political insiders consider him one of the greatest living victims of underhanded campaigning. Locked in a tight race with George W. Bush for the Republican presidential nomination in 2000, McCain was rocked in South Carolina by a whisper campaign claiming he had fathered an illegitimate black child and was mentally unstable.

Shaken by the experience, McCain denounced less-than-truthful campaigning. Vowing to live up to his "straight talk" motto, he apologized for his reluctance to criticize the flying of the Confederate flag at South Carolina's state Capitol in a bid for votes. When the so-called Swift Boat Veterans for Truth attacked the military record of Democrat and fellow Navy officer John Kerry in 2004, McCain called the ads "dishonest and dishonorable."

Now, top aides to McCain include Steve Schmidt, who has close ties to Karl Rove, Bush's premier political adviser in 2000.

Politicians usually modify or drop claims when a string of newspaper and TV news accounts concludes they are untrue or greatly exaggerated. Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, for example, conceded she had not come under sniper fire in Bosnia after a batch of debunking articles subjected her to scorn during her primary contest against Obama.

But McCain and his running mate Palin, the Alaska governor, were defiant this week in the face of similar reports. Day after day she said she had told Congress "no thanks" to the so-called Bridge to Nowhere, a rural Alaska project that was abandoned when critics challenged its costs and usefulness. For nearly a week, major news outlets had documented that Palin supported the bridge when running for governor in 2006, noting that she turned against it only after it became an object of ridicule in Alaska and a symbol of Congress's out-of-control earmarking.

The McCain-Palin campaign made at least three other aggressive claims this week that omitted key details or made dubious assumptions to criticize Obama. It equated lawmakers' requests for money for special projects with corruption, even though Palin has sought millions of dollars in such "earmarks" this year.

It produced an Internet ad implying that Obama had called Palin a pig when he used a familiar phrase, which McCain also has used, about putting "lipstick on a pig" to try to make a bad situation look better. McCain supporters said Obama was slyly alluding to Palin's description of herself as a pit bull in lipstick, but there was nothing in his remarks to support the claim. Obama accused the GOP campaign of "lies and phony outrage."

The lipstick wars were fully engaged when the McCain campaign produced another ad saying Obama favored "comprehensive sex education" for kindergartners. The charge triggered the sort of headlines becoming increasingly common in major newspapers and wire services monitoring the factual content of political ads and speeches.

"Ad on Sex Education Distorts Obama Policy," was the headline on a New York Times article Thursday. "McCain's 'Education' Spot is Dishonest, Deceptive," The Washington Post's "Fact Checker" article said.

Major news outlets have written such fact-checking articles for years. "But in the last two election cycles, the very notion that the facts matter seems to be under assault," said Michael X. Delli Carpini, an authority on political ads at the University of Pennsylvania's Annenberg School for Communication. "Candidates and their consultants seem to have learned that as long as you don't back down from your charges or claims, they will stick in the minds of voters regardless of their accuracy or at a minimum, what the truth is will remain murky, a matter of opinion rather than fact."

With Palin giving McCain's campaign a boost in the polls, Obama supporters are nervously watching to see what impact the latest claims will have. Surveys already show that most people believe Obama would raise their taxes — a regular McCain claim — even though independent groups such as the Tax Policy Center concluded that four out of five U.S. households would receive tax cuts under his proposals.

McCain spokesman Tucker Bounds defended the campaign's statements. "We include factual backup in every one of our TV spots," he said Thursday.

Obama, of course, has made exaggerated or questionable assertions as well. Earlier this year, for instance, he repeated a claim that more black men are in prison than in college, after news accounts refuted it. He also used a McCain remark about having troops in Iraq for "100 years" to exaggerate McCain's proposals for being fully engaged militarily in that country.

In general, however, Obama has been quicker to react to news accounts challenging his accuracy. Faced with skeptical reports this year, for instance, he stopped saying he "worked his way" through college, and instead credited hard work and scholarships.

Dan Schnur, a former McCain aide who now teaches politics at the University of Southern California, said McCain and Obama learned they must stretch the truth "when staying on the high road didn't work out to their benefit."

McCain, he said, "tried it his way. He had a poverty tour and nobody covered it. He had a national service tour, and everybody made fun of it. He proposed these joint town halls" with Obama, "and nothing come of it. Through the spring and early summer, that approach didn't work. You can't blame him for taking a step back and reassessing."

___

EDITOR'S NOTE — Charles Babington covers national politics for The Associated Press.

An Evening with Neil Young

For some time I have been excitedly awaiting the Thursday midnight showing of the Dark Knight, but it was overshadowed by another film I saw earlier in the evening...
I went to see the premier of Neil Young's new film CSNY:Deja Vu. It was a truly special evening, and Neil Young and others from the film were in attendance. I'm still processing it all today and it's hard to even write about it now. Just being so close to my all time hero Neil Young was enough to get to me, but the evening turned out to be something entirely more poignant and sincere...

http://www.csny-dejavu.com/

Go see this film if you can. The movie documents the 2006 Freedom of Speech tour that launched CSNY around the country in protest of the current wars. After writing his Living with War album, and releasing it for free over the internet, Neil took things a step further and took the music on the road, inviting ABC war correspondent and writer Mike Cerre to "embed" with the band. The film combines documentation of the history of the band with relevations into how these 60-something rockers came together once again. Along the way they encounter impassioned supporters as well as those who storm out of the concert halls, waving middle fingers in the air as the band launches into Neil's "Let's Impeach the President" anthem for today. They campaign for veterans running for office, speak with veteran support groups as well as TV and radio hosts, both for and against their stance. Interviews with soldiers and families who have lost their sons and daughters change the film from a tour documentary into a call for action against the regime in power right now.














Neil & Mike Cerre were joined by Iraqi war veteran Josh Hisle and Gold Star Mother Karen Meridith (who were both in the movie) on stage after the showing for a few comments. Terry and I were sitting right in the front row, mostly because by the time we got there (one hour before the show) that's all that was left! But as it were, we were right there up close to Neil and his guests. It was the first time that Karen had seen the film and the second for Josh. Tears were flowing all around as Karen talked about her reaction to the film and asked the audience to remember her son and what he died for. As his tour in Iraq came to an end, her son had packed up and was waiting with his buddies to board a plane home, when they got the word that they had been reassigned for another year. Shipped off to another embattled zone, he was shot and killed after only 11 days. Karen has recently found out that it was friendly fire and is demanding an investigation by the military into his death. Josh was also featured in the film. He proudly served his first tour as a Marine in Iraq, believing he was doing good. After returning home to his wife and newborn child, he was re-activated. When he returned with new responsibilities of being a father, he was began to see beyond the U.S, lies and propaganda and it changed his whole perspective. He came out alive and is now using music to speak out against the war. He met Neil during the filming of this movie, and has remained close.

It was a gut wrenching and breathtaking 2 hours, and I feel so lucky and honored to have been there. CSNY/ Deja Vu opens in limited release on July 27th so please, go see this film if you can.
Here's Neil's interview with Charlie Rose:
http://www.charlierose.com/shows/2008/7/17/1/a-conversation-with-neil-young

http://www.antiwar.com/casualties/
http://www.neilyoung.com/lwwtoday/index.html
http://ivaw.org/
http://www.ltkenballard.com/KarenInfo.htm
http://www.myspace.com/lostinholland

Germany bans psticides to save bees

From the Seeds of Change Newsletter:

Germany Bans Pesticides to Prevent Bee Deaths

In late May, the German Federal Office of Consumer Protection and Food Safety announced a ban on several pesticides implicated in the massive deaths of honeybees in the southern state of Baden Württemberg.

The ban affects eight neonicotinoid pesticides used in rapeseed and corn production that are alleged to be highly toxic to insects even at very low concentrations. This class of pesticides mimics the natural effects of nicotine and works as a neurotoxin to insects, causing paralysis that leads to death. Tests on dead bees from the affected region showed a buildup of the pesticide clothianidin (produced by Bayer Crop Science and manufactured under the trade names Poncho and Prosper) in 99 percent of the animals. The poison had been applied as a seed treatment, and according to Walter Haefeker, president of the European Professional Beekeepers Association, “Beekeepers in the region started finding piles of dead bees at the entrance of hives in early May, right around the time corn seeding takes place.”

The link between poison and bee death was so obvious that it prompted Germany’s federal agricultural research agency, the Julius Kuehn Institute, to issue a press release with the statement, “It can unequivocally be concluded that a poisoning of the bees is due to the rub-off of the pesticide ingredient clothianidin from the corn seeds.”

Bayer Crop Science attributes the deaths to an application error, blaming a seed company that neglected to use a substance to bind the pesticide to the treated seed, causing airborne dispersal of the chemical.

Across the Atlantic, Bayer faces a lawsuit from North Dakota beekeepers who blame the corporation for the death of thousands of bee colonies in 1995, when imidacloprid (trade named Gaucho), perhaps the most widely used neonicotinoid pesticide, was applied to the local rapeseed crop. In 1999 France banned Gaucho for use on sunflowers following the death of one third of the nation’s bees following the widespread use of the chemical, and has subsequently banned its use on sweetcorn and rejected Bayer’s application for clothianidin.

Joseph Cummins, a scientist for the Institute of Science in Society (ISIS), a non-profit group directed at “providing critical and accessible scientific information to the public and to promoting social accountability and ecological sustainability in science” (according to the group’s website), has pointed to the ability of neonicotinoid pesticides to be damaging even when introduced to bees at sub-lethal levels. If the animals don’t die, the poison impairs the ability to navigate to the hive, and compromises immune systems, making bees susceptible to parasitic fungi and other disease agents implicated in Colony Collapse Disorder.

For more information, visit www.i-sis.org

The Time Has Come

Looking for My Holy Grail

The year was 1989 and I was packed and ready to leave Cincinnati for the promised land of San Francisco, when my roommate and co-traveler bashed me upside the head with his Cuban heels in a drunken post-partying diva fight. I decided right then to drive my car in the opposite direction and get some perspective on how far down this dark spiral of punk existence I had fallen. So I loaded up my cat and dog and drove to Jacksonville, FL where I hoped to mend the relationship with my family which I have severed a decade ago. I could go back to school (cheaply) work part-time and mend fences at the same time. Then I would be truly ready to head for the west coast forever.

Showing up in the pink and pastel Florida town of Jacksonville, looking like 1980's Siouxsie Sioux was enough to make folks cross to the other side of the road when they saw me coming. To say that I did not fit in is no understatement. But I found a job and started school, continuing my major in Spanish Literature. The department at University of North Florida was amazingly dynamic and led by the incredible Dr. Lawrence K. Carpenter. Dr. Carpenter had gotten started on his path working for the Peace Corp in Ecuador after completing his BA in Linguistics in the 1960's. While building latrines for the Peace Corps, or whatever they were doing, he began learning and documenting the morphology and syntax of the 2 major language groups of the Andean people of Ecuador- Quechua and Aymara. Eventually he was recruited to work for the Peruvian government interviewing Quechua speaking victims of the state sponsored torture that had been going on. He was never able to talk much of these times, just to say that he had seen the darkness at the heart of man and it changed his life. After Peru lost interest in pursuing it's own abuses, Lawrence went back to Ecuador to work on behalf of the people there. He constructed an alphabet and lexigraphy for Quechua, began translating books into it, and persuaded the Ecuadorian government to open the first Quechua elementary school and to begin translating reading textbooks into the native language. He returned to the States to pursue his doctorate and eventually wound up as the department head of Spanish Language and Literature at University of North Florida, where he continued to help and sponsor the people of Otavalo, where he had become an honorary citizen.

You see, until the 1970's you could still legally buy a native child to work as a servant in your house. The society of Ecuador was divided into 2 classes- whites and indigenos, or Indians. If you had a lot of Spanish blood in you you were "white" and that meant privilege. But many times it comes down simply to dress. Native peoples of the area wear a distinctive form of dress and keep their black, straight hair quite long- the men wearing theirs in one long braid down the back. Now, if you want to be "white" you cut your hair short and wear western clothes. Mostly this would be the men of the village, who would cut their hair and learn Spanish in order to function in the role of trading with the whites and moving between the two worlds. Native peoples were not respected and were treated with open disdain, prejudice and their communities neglected by the government.
I got to know one man, Jose, who was raised as a "house boy" and was given, at age 16, the choice to return to his village. His owners had allowed him to attend school along with their own children and had become fluent in Spanish. He did indeed choose to return to his own people where he re-learned his native Quechua and started a weaving co-op (Otavalians are know for their fine weaving). Lawrence had become friends with him sponsored him to come to the States twice a year to sell weavings and garments and take the money back to his village. One testament to the benefits of Lawrence's work in Otavalo is the fact that Jose's daughter, Miriam, graduated from high school and attended college in Quito. How do I now all this, you might ask... Jose and Miriam stayed with me in Florida for a week during one of his visits, and I was able to speak Spanish very well in those days, so I talked for hours with them. I could tell you so much more about their incredible story, but that's for another day.

Lawrence was a very special man who was an incredible mentor to all his students. However, events of our country in those years would bring a few of us even closer. That year Bush senior decided to launch Operation Desert Storm. Now, Jacksonville Florida is a huge Navy town, and those dogmatic Southerners (remember, I grew up there) do not suffer dissent kindly. Due to anti-war bumper stickers on my car, I was run of the road twice by pick-up trucks full of redneck fanatics yelling "go back to Russia you commie-pinko-nigger-lovin-fag!

" I was called "stupid idiot" and other variations on that theme to my face on a regular basis while trying to express my opposition to the war by my co-workers. I was told that my job was in jeopardy if I didn't keep my mouth shut. You see, my own brother was in the National Guard and was one of the first to go over and the last to return. I worked at a hospital then, and many nurses had signed on about 6 months previously to the Navy Reserves to take advantage of a lucrative signing bonus (interesting timing BTW). As the war progressed, these nurses began to get called up and the crying began too. This did not put me in a good mood. My response was "hey you singed the dotted line and took their money, now sack up and go." When one nurse asked me to pray for her so she wouldn't have to go, I lost it. "What do you think, that your God will somehow favor you over my brother? That you are somehow more deserving of mercy than he is????? You call me stupid for opposing this war and now you want my sympathy? Do me a favor, save the tears and go do your job." This did not, as you can imagine, make me a popular employee. It was a tough environment and the few of us who did not jump on the rah-rah bandwagon would huddle together for support. At school, there were 7 such compadres- 3 professors and 4 students- and we met every Thursday night at the Student Union to drink beers and support each other. Funny, but now that I think on it, we sat at a round table. Hah! So these, my own knights of the round table, would gather together to feel safe in expressing our opinions to each other and spent many nights in total disbelief of what was going on around us. We would literally say to each other "We aren't crazy--- everyone else is crazy but it's not us" in order to try to keep our sanity. Lawrence was one of those knights. And over the next few months the seven of us clung to each other for support and sometimes protection against this rising tide of fanatic war fever.

One day Lawrence said to meet him in his office after school, he had something for me. I went and sat down in the chair by his desk. He handed me an old book, about 6 x 4 inches in size, it's cover of greying blue linen frayed at the edges, it's binding fragile but still holding together. "Open it," he said. I looked at the title page and read "Tratado y relacion de los errores, falsos dioses y otras supersticiones y ritos diabalicos en que vivian..." The font was old and full of flourishes, with the "s" that look like an "f". I could tell I was holding something very special and Lawrence was barely succeeding in holding back his excitement. "What IS this?" I implored. Geez, this was killing me, I could not imagine what he was doing. "This is just a transcription," he said, "the original is much, much older. This is the Huarochiri Manuscript. It has not been translated into English and I want you to translate a few chapters for your Senior Project."

Now, I was far from the brightest student in the Spanish department. True I had taken 2 years, but language did not come naturally for me and I could read, but I could not speak. My first classes were in Cincinnati and taught traditionally- grammar and memorization from books. When I got to UNF I was plunged into Lawrence's total immersion techniques. There was no English spoken. You would go into class and, for example, the teacher would say "go open the window Juan" You might have no clue as to what she was saying, but finally she would go over to the window and open it... "now open the window" and you would do it, repeating the words. We spend a lot of time walking about , running our hands through the grass describing how it feels in Spanish, touching things, learning experientially. Every Friday we had to stand up and give a speech in Spanish. I would sit in my car before class every Friday and cry, it was so hard. But my teacher finally told me, "You will never learn to speak until you let go of your fear for making a fool out of yourself. Learn to laugh at your mistakes, and then you will learn to communicate." There hasn't been a week that goes by in the ensuing 20 years that I do not repeat that advice to myself.

I was not the best student. I wasn't even the most dedicated.. I spent a lot of time in Jacksonville's only punk club, Einstein-a-go-go and I worked too. But here he was, entrusting me with this precious work. I was blown away. He went on to explain that the original of this document was written between 1600-1608 in Peru. One crafty Jesuit, Father Francisco Avila had a devious idea- if we learn the native people's language, we can have them tell us about all their myths, then use that knowledge to smash them. He set two of his priests to the tasks and we can tell by their annotations that these two took their role more sensitivity than Fr. Avila. They expressed that were painfully aware of what they were doing, that the systematic annihilation of this rich culture was troublesome to their conscious. Oh, if they only could know that the work they carefully attended to would turn out to be the one and only record of the religious beliefs of the Andean peoples of Peru. It's very, very moving, and reading through the chapters, you can hear the voices of those interviewed. Of course, this was not going to be easy. It's written in 1600's Spanish... it's as different to modern Spanish as Shakespeare is to the way we speak today. But it's the end of the semester, I have all summer to devour it and Lawrence and I will meet once a week until school begins anew. This book was so special to him and he was passing his passion for it on to me. This was a great honor and as our meetings progressed, I fell head over heels in love with this important manuscript.

Then Lawrence got sick. He could not make our meetings, but not to worry... this was some parasite that he had picked up years ago in Peru which had been slowly, undetectably eating some organ or another and the doctor's have everything under control. Weeks went by and he looked worse. Soon he stopped seeing anyone except his best and oldest friend, who stayed by his side. No one knew what was going on but he kept assuring us through her that he was getting better, not to worry. We believed him- I guess we had to. Then suddenly he was gone. Lawrence died. Oh my god, we were devastated, shocked and bewildered. And incredibly, indelibly sorrowful. His best friend then told me the truth about his illness... he had AIDS. No one knew. Lawrence, in this town, at this time, had to lead this double life, keeping his sexuality a secret. He would have lost his job and his work, his means to continue his support of the people of Otavalo, this was the most important work of his life. He could not tell anyone. My heart ached. If I had only known, I mean, geez, 9 of of 10 of my friends were gay, I could have supported him, let hi know he was not alone. If only he had known that I would be completely supportive! He did know, she said, but he could not risk it. But he knew. Here was this amazing man, dying like this, keeping this secret. But he did not die alone, he had his closest friends with him, and in the end, his family too.

The next weeks were a whirlwind of confusion. Jose and Miriam were on an airplane to Jacksonville and they didn't know yet that Lawrence had died. School was starting and the staff for the university had not had a clue as to the seriousness of his illness. Who would teach the classes was a first priority. And then there was the matter of Lawrence's possessions. He has an extensive and valuable collection of Incan and Andean pottery and textiles. He wanted, and it was our plan, to catalogue and donated these items for a memorial collection at the college in Lawrence's name. Once his (excuse me) redneck mother (reminds me soooo much of Dave's mom) learned of the value, all she saw were dollar signs. So his best friend, who he had named executor of his will, and his mother entered into a huge battle over the fate of this collection. Meanwhile the college board learned the truth about Lawrence's illness and were on the verge of rejecting the idea of a memorial to him because of that. The war was raging on and the round table no longer felt safe enough to meet in public. Everything was chaos and the whole thing with the board members being afraid to shame the university since Lawrence was now obviously gay was just too much for me. I couldn't take it anymore and began a disastrous decline that eventually led me to hit the road again to San Francisco. Eventually though, the board made the right decision, his memorial was created, Lawrence's mom settled for a split in the property, his collection of coca leave bags spanning 200 years remained intact. But the little book of Huarochiri tales was boxed and sold to someone. Life at that particular moment was horrible.. but it inevitably went on.

So now here I am in Madrid standing on the steps of Spanish National Library. For 20 years I have dreamed of this day... seeing the original manuscript seems like part of the task that Lawrence gave me... at least it's a dream he inspired in me, and I am nervous as hell. To see the original Huarochiri Manuscript... wow. I woke up early and went down with my Spanish dictionary to the cafe for a coffee. I decided to write out exactly what I want to say as correctly as I could, in case I was nervous and scatter-brained. When I finished, I went back to the hostal, got Terry and set off to get there as soon as it opened. I said goodbye to Terry on the steps and went in the doors.

First thing, there's two ladies at a desk. After I explained why I was there, they told me that I could not even look at the card catalogue without a library card. Fortunately I could get a guest pass with my passport... just head through the doors and go to security.
Getting through security means a complete search of my purse, which I then have to leave behind in a locker. I also have to leave my pen and Spanish dictionary. They let me take the paper on which I had written my explanation in Spanish, which I REALLY need because at this point I'm starting to really get nervous. Finally, through a metal detector and off to see if they will give me a guest card.

So I go up to the next desk in the next room, explain why I am there and get heads to shaking. "It's not possible," they tell me. I ask, "Please, isn't there a way to make a special case? I come from California, this is so special to me, I study this document in University, my professor died, I am here in his honor." The woman calls her supervisor and they begin looking at the computer, talking, making phone calls... 20 minutes later they give me a paper, stick a nametag on me that says "Visitor" and send me to the next desk. Here I give up my passport and fill out 3 papers. I'm starting to doubt myself. What did I think? I somehow had this picture that the document would be displayed open in a glass case and I would be able to stand there and stare at it, take it all end and leave in awe. What was I thinking???? I'm not too smart, I should have emailed, something. Well, I decided to just keep begging. I was here, all I can do is plead my case, all they can do is turn me down.

Then to my surprise, the first lady I talked to in this room walked over, whispered something to this current lady, and they upgrade me to "Lector." She tells me that "There's No Way you will get to see this document, it's in the Cervantes Room for rare antiquities, and you must have a special permit called the 'Investigator's Card.' For this card you must be a professor, a graduate student with a written letter from your university explaining your reason for studying the document or be a professional writer of some sort. Um, you don't have those things." No, none of those is me. But she feels sorry for me and said this "Lector" designation will get me into the room and I will be able to plead my case.

So here I go through another security check point. God, I feel like I'm entering the CIA inner sanctum or something. I'm directed into the Cervantes Room to a desk with an older woman sitting there who looks like a bad guy from a James Bond Movie. OK, now I am shaking. I can't talk, my voice is quivering. She says "No, it's not here, it's simply not possible." I show her my paper on which I wrote the document number that I found online a month ago. "It IS here, it must be here, here is the number," I plead. "No, it's not possible. You don't have the proper classification and it's not here anyway. Now go away." Now, I'm getting upset and can't even understand anything she's saying, I'm so nervous. Scared even. Oh my god, no... I'm starting to cry! Stop it, suck it up, grow some heuvos. Ugg don't fall apart now. I take a deep breath. "OK, I understand, but can't you just look? It's special. Can't you make a special case? I studied this document when I was in University, my professor has died, I'm here in his honor, please, I'm sorry I'm so emotional, this is very special in my heart." My Spanish is SO bad, my voice is shaking, I'm forgetting my words, using the wrong tenses, everything wrong. She messes around with her computer, gets up, goes to the next room, talks to this policeman looking dude, and crooks her finger at me... "Come here"

Then she digs out a huge book... "Here is the listing of all documents of the America's that are here in this library. If you can find it here I will consider your request." But it's not in there... I can't find it.
But wait, here she comes bac, this hard a-ss librarian has the second volume and she found it there for me! It's #3169, just as I had found online! Woohoooooooo! Now I have just one more step to go, I have to fill out 3 papers and take them to the police looking dude, and he's scary, but not as scary as the librarian torturess. So I fill them out and he takes me to a file and finds another number, I finish the papers and he takes them to talk to the other woman again. She's shaking her head. By this time I can't hold it back, I start crying. It's not going to happen, here I am and it's not going to happen. I can't stop, I can't hold back the sobs and every fucking professor in the room, doing their super serious professor thing on these rare documents, hundreds of years old, is staring at me. Maybe no one has ever cried in the library before. Silly me. I have to excuse myself and go to the bathroom and get it all out, get myself together, which of course means I have to go through all the infernal security again. But when I get back Mr. Policeman looks at me and smiles. He has good news... they have decided to let me see the microfilm. It is impossible for me to see the document but they will let me see the microfilm. Would this be agreealbe to me? I start crying again. "Thank you, thank you." He says "Sit down and wait." I sat. I waited. People stared at me. I waited 20 minutes. Then another woman in a lab coat and white gloves comes out and gives me a box. I can't remember how to work a microfilm machine, what if I screw it up? I'll be in jail somewhere. So she set it up for me and I was able to spend however much time I wanted looking at it.

So I did. I looked at the hand writing, the side notes, the corrections. It was so human. Hand written of course... I could discern the different handwritings of the two priests. I could see the care they took to try their best to get the stories of the people right. They crossed things out, made notes about the mood of the person telling their story. I strained to notice the worn edges of the paper, the stains, to soak up every detail I could possibly take in. Microfilm is in black and white, in the negative, and it's not the same as the real thing. But I decide that it's a gift, that I am SO lucky to get this close, to get this far, for these people to somehow be touched by my poorly spoken story. I felt blessed by their generosity when technically I had no right to be in that room. I made a few copies as a keepsake and wound the microfilm back, thanked everyone profusely, went through two more security checks, walked out into the sun to Terry patiently waiting on the steps. Oh, and I got to keep my library card! We went to celebrate over a meal and glasses of wine. It was a beautiful day and I was on cloud 9. The world was good

So there you are, the journey is complete, and I'm totally and completely fulfilled. It's a long story, thank you for reading it and allowing me to share my tale. Thank you Lawrence, thank you for giving me this precious dream and inspiring my journey of the heart. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

The Huarochiri Manuscript was translated into English and published in 1991, just one year after Lawrence's death and the year I arrived in San Francisco. You can read it courtesy of Google Books here.