Wednesday, December 30, 2009

"Howl's Moving Castle"

Hayao Miyazaki, prolific Japanese filmmaker and animator, came out of "retirement" to make this film "Howl's Moving Castle." He's actually an interesting-ass dude, check him out on wikipedia. And this film is one of the best, most bizarre and most beautiful films I've seen in awhile. I haven't seen "Avatar," but I'm pretty sure that this actually far exceeds it... just sayin...

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Peacebone - Animal Collective

Not my favorite Animal Collective song, though it's up there, but I love the video. Enjoy.

Erykah Badu - Bag Lady

a classic.

The Story of Stuff

I often think about the life of everything around me - the journey from beginning to end of my food, my clothes, my furniture, my books, the buildings I'm in, etc. It's pretty mind boggling, the process of production, this world that we've created. And let's face it, this "green movement" is here for a reason - the western, "developed," and "civilized" world is raping and pillaging our earth's resources and shitting on our souls. Sorry to be so crude about it. Things need to change, and things are changing, but we must always remember that behind all of our actions there are consequences, and we always have a choice: Are we going to add to or aid our world's ailments?

This short video is an entertaining and easy to follow story of the stuff that makes up our world. It is a good eye-opener, reminder, or refresher. Watch it. Annie Leonard is definitely coloring outside of the lines.

Saturday, December 26, 2009


and while we're talking about news... here is the fantastic and award-winning film "Network." A hilarious satire so biting you will have ellipses-shaped full moon tooth-mark indentations for days. Described in a 1976 New York Times review as "brilliantly, cruelly funny." Amazing that nearly 34 years later many elements of this film still hold true...

60 Minutes' Andy Rooney On Shopping

now that our gift giving holidays are over this is a little belated, but andy rooney's hilarious and his points are still well taken...

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


i'm not sure if this song was originally done by mulatu astatke, menelik wesnatchew, or someone else, but my dad once told me that tezeta, which means "nostalgia" in amharic, is one of those classic ethiopian jazz songs that's been covered by everyone. i'm diggin the underwater video, but this songggggg, wow this song. it's one of those songs that always touches something deep, something alive within us. it stirs and shakes and settles all at once.

speaking of which, i have some tej, ethiopian honey wine, that's ready for the tasting...

Los Orishas - El Kilo

Anis Mojgani at The Seattle Grand Slam 2006

3 pieces performed by amazing slam poet anis mojgani. incredible. enjoy. thanks to his future wife, the avatar.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Ode to the Sun and to All Life

Here in the northern hemisphere (north of the equator) we today celebrated the winter solstice, or the shortest day of the year. In the southern hemisphere, however, today marks the summer solstice. Following is an amalgam of quotes that will hopefully shed at least a little (sun)light on an appreciation of the solstice, the flow of seasons, and the cycle of life here in the depth of the darkness of winter:

This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.

-John Muir, quoted in The Earth Speaks by Steve van Matre and Bill Weiler


Science is giving us this amazing story of how we co-arise, of how we are not separate, of how we are created. ... Our body is composed of heavy elements created in the early explosions of supernova in the universe. That was where carbon was created, where oxygen was created. ... We are composed of the elements of this planet. Your bones are calcium, phosphates, sylicates, nitrogen - various elements found in the earth: The clay of earth literally, mysteriously molded into your shape. Most of your body is liquid. ...Most of that liquid has the chemical consistency of the ocean. We sweat and cry seawater. We're not just on the earth. We're of the earth.

-Wes “Scoop” Nisker, author, performer, radio commentaror, and Dharma teacher quoted by Anneli Rufus in this past week’s "East Bay Express" from a recent talk he gave at Spirit Rock Meditation Center


Every particle of every thing
rock, water, flower, human
has been in the same place flaming
in the heart of our ancient sun
before the earth
came flying out of it.

The irises in your eyes
the tissue of roses

the slow giant rocks in mountain hearts

were all born flaming
locked in the sun as it drifted
like a light on dark water.

-Lawrence Collins, Only a Little Planet (reproduced in The Earth Speaks)


At first glance, a leaf may look as thin as paper; actually it is a spreading one-story factory with ample room between floor and ceiling for sunlight-packaging machinery. The standard leaf is designed for utility to present a broad surface to the sunlight. A mature maple tree spreads several hundred thousand leaves with a surface of some two thousand square yards (about half an acre) of chlorophyll.

A square yard of leaf surface in full operation packs about a gram of carbohydrate per hour. This may seem to be a small amount; a gram weighs about as much as the common straight pin. But food production of that half acre of chlorophyll mounts with each hour of every day. There are no Sunday and holiday shutdowns. Photosynthesis does not require a bright sunny day, it works even better when the sky is overcast. Operating on average of ten hours a day during June, July and August, each square yard of maple leaf surface packs a pound and a half of carbohydrate. The seasonal production by the leaves of a single maple tree can total 3,630 pounds of packaged sunlight!

-Rutherford Hayes Platt, The Great American Forest (reproduced in The Earth Speaks)


This is the way life works on earth. Each living thing is a spark of sunlight energy, a crystal bead in the net of life. As humans, like other forms life, we are only here for a few moments, a mere glistening in time on the film of life covering the planet. When we die, the sunlight energy holding the building materials together flickers out, and those materials that make us up are eventually taken up through the threads of the net by other living things to be used again. Life on the earth represents a continual process of birth and death, decay and rebirth as the building materials are used over and over again by all living things. You see, the earth is not like our mother, it is our first mother. The sky is not like our father, it is our first father. The union of earth and sky beget all living things in this oasis in space.

-Steve van Matre, The Earth Speaks

You see, life is always going on. It's always happening. It never stops. And by life I mean real life, real live living things. In this world we have created of pavement and automobiles and big buildings it's easy to forget our connection to the natural world. However, cultures spanning both the world and time have been aware of our presence as beings of the earth. Steve van Matre (eventually) asks in The Earth Speaks, "People should not spend their entire lives in a skyscrapered city, for in the midst of those articial canyons they will likely forget who and where they are. If people are stopped on the street of a major city today and asked what supports the life of the earth, they will probably reply that their city does. Isn't it strange that people can name the trees along the sidewalk but don't understand how sunlight supports the life of earth?"

Aha! And this is it! This “ancient sun.” And it truly does, the sun powers this planet we know in our flesh-and-bones-reality - without it there would be no life on earth. The sun provides energy for plants through photosynthesis - as humans we eat those plants, our animals eat those plants, the fossil fuels that largely power our world are the remnants of those plants and animals, and we need those plants to breathe.

So as the shortest day of the year comes to an end here in overcast Oakland, CA, as the cycle continues and days again begin to lengthen, as time on earth and throughout all of space carries on, let us take a moment to appreciate the sun and the cycle of life.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Beats Antique

<a href="">Oriental Uno (feat. Fanfara Kalashnikov) by beats antique</a>

the bearded buddy-ole-pal-man turned me onto beats antique awhile back before departing for latin american deserts and jungles and journeys. based outta my very own oakland, ca they are another example of a really cool musical fusion of different cultures. they are playing a couple of shows at the independent in san francisco january 2 and 3, but getchyo tickets soon cuz the first show is already sold out!

from their website:

BEATS ANTIQUE, an oakland based group featuring ZOE JAKES, DAVID SATORI, AND SIDECAR TOMMY, which has stumbled down the rabbit hole and emerged anew on the other side. BEATS ANTIQUE forges a curious alliance between middle eastern traditions and potent west coast circus, underground hip hop, breakbeat brass band, downtempo, glitch and dubstep.

Supporting their 2nd album, COLLIDE (2008 CIA records), BEATS ANTIQUE'S DJ sets on BASSNECTAR'S "THE OTHER SIDE" tour feature their diverse sound collage as the opening act for one of the nation's most well known DJ's. ZOE JAKES, nominated as Zaghareet's "Best Interpretive Artist 2007", presents a unique take on Tribal bellydance, influenced by Art Nouveau, tango, Breakdance, and Indian classical dance. BEATS ANTIQUE has brought the paradox of electro-acoustic music into the future

Rupa & the April Fishes Plays the Rickshaw Stop

so last night the avatar and i got giggle! stamped on our wrists, big black x's marked on our hands, and entered the dimly lit, red velvet-curtained walls of the richshaw stop. we were there to see san francisco-based group Rupa and the April Fishes perform, but it was also a pretty interesting scene to see - or maybe altered states of consciousness just had me questioning my surroundings more. i think, really though, it was my first time on my own at a small music venue filled with adults. and it's bizarre, it's a trip, to see this whole new world of grown-up interactions. plus it's always interesting to examine the social dynamics of situations... anyhow, some folks were dressed to impress with superfly, quirky style and i was surprised and a little weirded out by the seemingly hip fad of wearing really cool hats - there were numerous guys in richly-colored fedoras with pretty feathers, a top hat reminiscent of the mad hatter's, bowler hats, pageboy caps.

the opening acts for rupa & the april fishes were two a cappella groups, an all-female group called the conspiracy of venus and their brother group, the all-male conspiracy of beards. we arrived near the end of the womyn's show and after a brief intermission i started laughing as the men took the stage... ohhhhhhh, they're the guys with the cool hats! the funny, eclectic, and lively conspiracy of beards only sings a cappella songs of the late leonard cohen. how's that for quirky? they do a beautiful rendition of "hallelujah," but my favorite was their electronic-sounding throwdown of god is alive, magic is afoot, replete with screams, animal moans, stomping feet, and thumping microphones. oh and they do sport many unique beards.

after the beards' performance rupa & the april fishes finally took the stage and threw a party. unfortunately the rickshaw stop is too cozy and intimate of a venue for the crowd that they drew - it was too cramped to properly dance and enjoy their show... but it was still fantastic. they are a mezcla of latin-gypsy-french countryside-balkan sexy-playful-raucous-romantic soulfulness with enchanting lyrics in english, french, and spanish. as musicians they are amazing: even if she weren't such an amazing musician rupa's beauty and strong presence is enough, homie on the stand-up bass jams and busted out some almost hip-hop beats, dude on the drums played one of the best drum solos i've heard, fools on the hornsssss!, both the trombone and the trumpet were incredible, and i'll be honest, the guy on the cello i didn't really listen to that much because the avatar and i were too busy discussing whether or not celloist is pronounced chell-o-ist or chell-ist. anyway, great show, the crowd screamed like crazy for a little longer than we all would have liked to bring them back for an encore, i just wish there had been more room to dance so that i could have actually started sweating.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Stormy Monday Funk and Sandra Cisneros

I don't just love Jack Sprat cuz they're my homies and amazing beings. I love Jack Sprat cuz they make dope music. Each individual making up the Collective has a unique musical background, education, and interest, yet when it comes to music they speak the same language of love, and you can hear it when they play. It's hard to say what they sound like, cuz nothing and no one quite comes close... some blend of rock n jazz n funk n soul n reggae n hip hop, a "fusion" like the multicultural melting pot of the Bay Area from whence we all came, they describe their influences as, "Quality music of all shapes and sizes. Sly Stone. The Roots. Outkast. The Beatles. P-Funk. Prince. Jimi. Mos Def. Bob Marley. Chili Peppers. Tribe. Cream. Everything in between." They've put on a show in late December over the past few years and they continue to please n perform - The Jack Sprat Collective will be playing at The Oakland Metro on December 28. Listen to them here and be sure to check them out in a week!

And so, yesterday I was flyering for the show with Sachs5thAvenue. Nearly-solstice mid-afternoon sun both bright and dim, already fading, tight as if stretching across the horizon and over the low buildingtops. The copy store was big n wide like University the street it's on and smelled like a headache, like beneath the kitchen sink. It smelled like the need to run outside and gasp for air, like if you spent too much time in there you might begin to go crazy, but copies are cheap, ten cents per for a big poster. So backpacks on like turtle shells, or maybe like camel humps filled with water bottles and flyering supplies, prepared, yippeeeeee we biked all over Berkeley. wind in hair and eyes and ears so that you sniffle a little and your face feels fresh and you just hear something like whirrrr as you glide, float, fly down the street and the roar of the rest of the world begins to dull. and in between the CRALUNKKK of the staplegun and the scratchpeeling of stuck, jagged tape edges peace just lingered, easy conversation flowed just like that smooth feeling of bike-riding. and so it goes with you, friend - "you have a calmness that is balancing and a gentleness that is soothing and strengthening." And as the sky began to slide into pink and almost-lavender the clouds agreed with this sense of beauty and calm and peace - playful and deliberate, soft wispy ribbons pirouetted here and fields of rows n rows of puffy-patterned shapes lay there. In honor of those clouds, of that sky, of those moments, here is a vignette from Sandra Cisneros' The House on Mango Street:

"Darius & the Clouds"

You can never have too much sky. You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky, and sky can keep you safe when you are sad. Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky. Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful. Still, we take what we can get and make the best of it.

Darius, who doesn't like school, who is sometimes stupid and mostly a fool, said something wise today, though most days he says nothing. Darius, who chases girls with firecrackers or a stick that touched a rat and thinks he's tough, today pointed up because the world was full of clouds, the kind like pillows.

You all see that cloud, that fat one there? Darius said. See that? Where? That one next to the one that looks like popcorn. That one there. See that. That's God, Darius said. God? somebody little asked. God, he said, and made it simple.

"i bet you smell like butterfly, but i bet you dream cocoon"

let's skip some moon rocks, k...?

words of wisdom from wendell berry

and the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet, and learn to be at home.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Beirut: Une Blogotheque Soirée de Poche

Ok, so this is gonna be the last blogotheque video I post for awhile, I swear (it's just so hard cuz they have so much good stuff!)... But this video is definitely my favorite by far. I love klezmer/old world/eastern european/balkan music, and I love the rockpop twist that Beirut gives it. It's just good music.

But I think the main reason I love this video is because it's a coolass party. Zach Condon starts a lil off, but once they get past the first song they're vibin. The 2nd song "Nantes" is hands down my new favorite song and that's when the party really starts rollin - the crowd gets into it, starts singin along, and you can tell that folks are enjoying the show. By the end of the sixth song everyone is drunk and joyous and giddy and belting along and just contagiously, exuberantly happy. It's raucous and lively and energized and aching with something like love and fun. Love of music, love of the moment. The band members, especially the drummer, have let go and look so incredibly.... pleased. Content. Settled. It's how music should be performed and enjoyed. Here's to hoping Beirut starts touring soon and we can catch them at an intimate venue at least somewhat reminiscent of this Soirée...

Muddy Waters - Long Distance Call

The great blues star Muddy Waters.

Dang tho, dude.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

humbleness, or humility

hmmmm, that last post on Ounce Dice Trice is not right. It is irking me. It is false. It is trying to be something that I cannot actually do. It is empty and meaningless and does very little to actually convey the beauty of the book. i recommend that you just go read it right away so as to actually understand...

anyhow, what i meant to say was:

today after yoga, in the changing room these women were talking about the arrival of their periods and about the new moon, and it reminded me that indeed female menstruation is said to ebb and flow and wax and wane with the moon like waves. and then i realized that my "moniker" of sorts has become moonbellysunshinestardust rays, and thus how appropriate "moonbelly" is in it... and isn't that amazing! the notion that our bodies can become so in alignment with the natural world, that there is some moonessence floating around in the world shifting and shaping us. it's beautiful. and so i wanted to read more about this. sex ed and biology class, most formal education so far, really, has done me rather poorly and so as wikipedia shares articles on menstruation and the menstrual cycle with me i realize that there's a bundle of stuff i don't know about my body that i feel i should - particularly regarding menstruation, something that has happened so me countless times over the years, something that is a critical part of my being, and really all human being. and who knew that reading about menses could be so mesmerizing - i still have a ways until i get to reading about the moon... because it's all quite fascinating, the fine-tunement of our bodies, the hormones secreted and the follicles, the calls and responses, this conversation that is continuously being had in our bodies. how did this all happen? besides years and years of evolution, this physical existence, this being, these tiny tiny atoms that carry such knowledge and life essence in them? that inspire thoughts and words, the ability to not only have babies but to find attachment to them, too, and at the same time that creates computers and internet and carries emails across continents, through space and time - it's INCREDIBLE. astounding. mind boggling. what is this world that we have created? what is physical being, in the sense of flesh of bones?

and perhaps most of all, what is the empty falseness of contemporary western civilization? how have we so forgotten what is real and essential and natural to our beings? how we have strayed... this broken culture of an oppression that is ingrained and institutionalized so deeply within it, ghettos and hate and war and violence, money-and-thing-craving body-vessels working tirelessly and soulcrushingly to purchase all of these things apparently necessary to survive. what have we forgotten along the way, what have we lost sight of as we have raced towards this elusive prized place of... civilization, advancement, technology, efficiency, modernization? we have no control, really. we become so caught up in our singular experiences, as i am now sitting here in my bed under piles of covers listening to music thoughts cutting canyons and gorges through my head writing you an email, solidly rooted within myself and my own experience, that we fail to see that our hand is a leaf. but in the scheme of things, of all, we are minute and not just small, but tiny. our lifetime is a dying candle compared to stars, and that's just stars. the existence of humankind on earth is but a single one of your eyelashes. one day it will no longer exist... it is nothing in the sight of the billions upon billions of years of time that earth alone has seen, not to mention all else that exists and resides and is or has been in, within, a part of the incomprehensible vastness that is space, time, and is-ness. in the face of that, what are we, really?

Ounce Dice Trice by Alastair Reid, illustrated by Ben Shahn

Light Words
(to be said in windy or singing moods)


...So goes a page in Ounce Dice Trice, a silly and joyous celebration of words. And not just words, but their full form as well, their onomatopoeitic essences. The Introduction of this delightful book first published in 1958 declares: Words have a sound and shape, in addition to their meanings. Sometimes the sound is the meaning. If you take a word like BALLOON and say it aloud seven or eight times, you will grow quite dizzy with it. All the words here are meant to be said aloud, over and over, for your own delight. If you want to know more about their meanings, ask a dictionary.

It is playful and restores wonder, astonishment and excitement to our lives. I don't know much of anything at all about linguistics, or the history of languages, though I wish I did. I do know that like art, though, language reflects culture. However, the question is begged: can the essence of words extend beyond the rigidity of our cultural perceptions? Is there something more, some element such as lightness or windy, singing moods that can be captured? Perhaps "contained" is a better word, for what does "captured" imply, can these ever be fully captured? Or maybe displayed, shared, examined, celebrated... anyhow, yes. This world around us, somewhere, somehow, out of something and some place words came to give us understanding of our surroundings. And words are created all the time - "google" is in the dictionary now...

Anyhow, check this out for Odd Words (to be spoken out loud, for fun), proper onomatopoeia ("'CROOMB' is what pigeons murmur to themselves," "'HARROWOLLOWORRAH' is yawning," and "'PALOOP' is the tap dripping in the bath"), and the definition of piddocks, pobbies, and a puggree.

Monday, December 14, 2009

La Réalité - Amadou et Mariam

Though this blind couple from Mali has been making music for decades, their ascent to international stardom began in full force in 2004 when Manu Chao produced their breakthrough album Dimanche à Bamako. Mariam's voice is best described as "sweet-and-sour," and combined with Amadou's light n steady, full n heavy guitar playing, occasional cowbell, and a host of other world instruments, their heart-thumping, foot-grooving sound gives traditional Malian blues some pop n' rock.

Their music appeals to audiences worldwide, and I had the pleasure of full-bodily experiencing their music this past fall at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. At the very back of a dense crowd of hundreds we sought barefooted refuge in the open space, in the cool night air where we had the room to converse in movement with the music that was so loud it drowned out voices, to twist n sway n dance n sweat so that we stripped off layers of clothing and layers of consciousness, almost until we were bare. Glitter-glowing nothings, we were there. What is the mystical beauty of music and movement and this timeless, everlasting, empty mystery of being?

Dreams by Langston Hughes

James Mercer Langston Hughes - dreamer, fighter, truck farmer, poet, waiter, nomad, novelist, ship crew mess boy, playwright, world traveler, almost Communist, scholar, Harlemite in its "vogue," Negro activist. I grew up on his collection of poems to inspire youth: The Dream Keeper. His words glide smooth, the silk of air beneath birds' wings. They dance that tip-tap soulful feeling in your chest when a little girl pouts big, full cheeks, and of fancy new shoes. His words are what rain sings. They remind you that you are, too...


Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Friday, December 11, 2009

Cecilia (Simon & Garfunkel cover) - The Local Natives

don't let these fools deceive you. they may look like scruffy dudes in their backyard, but they kill it when homie busts out the xylophones...

Cecilia from Local Natives on Vimeo.

Andrew Bird et St. Vincent

the rain has arrived in the bay area. redorangeyellow leaves scatter in sprinkletops on sidewalks and carhoods. soft petals mulching back into the earth bare voluptuous red rosehips. went mudskating with rocketman and j-double-o-infinity down to a magical redwood grove in the fading light of a purplebrownpink sky. though which redwood groves aren't magical? lamented the loss of nature to billions upon billions of dollars of development, the coming of concrete that keeps the mud from between your toes on days like today, and the notion of being a "city person" versus an "outdoorsy type" - at the heart and soul and thick of it all we were all made to run around in the woods while it's raining.

and so, in the spirit of rain and hot tea and mud-caked feet, here's a blogotheque soirée de poche of andrew bird and st. vincent... thanks to david for this one.

the manifesto

this blog is a continuation of Shadows of My Smiles, Echoes of My Laughs, And Skeletons of My Tears and Fears. quite the mouthful, eh?

while I'm still not entirely sure what the limits and lack-of-limits for coloring outside of the lines, will be, (and yes, that comma is intentional... what comes next?!), it will be different from my previous blog. it will be rants and rambles and ruminations, songs and videos, news. in all likelihood it will continue to flirt with the line of private diary and public journal, though i will try to make intentional, thought-out decisions.

i heard some shady shit about blogger violating your privacy in regards to drafted posts that haven't yet been published, and really who knows what else, but i have decided to stick with it for now...

but i suppose quite simply put, coloring outside of the lines, will be an examination. of everything. its inspiration comes from this simple yet revolutionary notion: you actually DON'T have to color inside of the lines! this might seem obvious, no duh you can scribble scrabble all over the walls. hmmm, perhaps that would have been a better blog name... but one of the first things we learn, especially at school, is to color INSIDE the lines. (and to cut out along the lines, to only use a little bit of glue, to sit in a circle...). but from the very beginning we are told that our creativity, our beings, WE must fit within these lines. these are rules and boxes that we must sit in silently and in criss-cross-applesauce, these are desks that we must sit at (not dance, flail, squirm, fiddle, tap, doodle on or around). but this is another discussion of our education system... BUT GUESS WHAT?! we don't have to color inside the lines! and this notion is beautiful and applies to everything. men can wear skirts and people can reclaim abandoned lots and guerrilla garden them into eden and grown folks can play make-believe and pretend to be princes and butterflies. and again, it's kinda like no duhhhh, they can do that, sure, but they shouldn't. or something along those lines, you know?

but maybe you think we should, and maybe you do - maybe you're different, or maybe you want to be different... there are lots of people who have said "fuck it" to all of this, these societal rules, whether spoken or unspoken... those who follow their heart and their spirit, who cross the street when the big orange hand is up because there are no bloody cars coming, who hitchhike and couchsurf and dumpster dive their way around the world with no money, the trannies and drag queens, the little kid (or big one) whose idea of good style is a sweet batman costume and wears it everyday, the critical mass bicyclists taking back the streets of the world and the permaculturists healing that same world with good dirt and good sense, the psychonauts exploring the inner depths of our beings and the physicists exploring the outer limits of being, the college kid who defies their parents' wishes and majors in folklore & mythology instead of going premed and the one who comes out to their conservatively religious parents and the one who drops out, the freaks and the geeks and the weirdos, the hippies and the rainbow folks, the kinky ones, the spankers, and the perverts who just can't help it, the poi dancers who aren't afraid to be burnt and the whirling dervishes who dance for god, the vagina monologuers, the faeries and the furries, the yogis and yoginis, the anarchists, the activists, the slo trippers, the runaways, the environmentalists, the wiccans, the scientists and the poets, the adventurers and the explorers, the lovers and the dreamers, the artists, the musicians, the spiritual seekers, the Marxs and the Gandhis and the Mrs. Robinsons and definitely, definitely the Donner Parties... you know, the ones who don't give up, the ones who fight.

so this is for them. for us. for the fighters.