Why Do I Exist?

Well, that’s a question with multifaceted ever changing answers, but today it’s so this photo could resurface from the filming of Nick Zedd’s Why Do You Exist in 1998.

You can see this and lots of other good stuff at the NICK ZEDD Movies page.

Or if you’re curious about the films themselves there are a few over at UbuWeb:


(What the hell happened to that dress? I wish I still had that dress.)

Faun Uptown


A faun with a bear I saw up in the Morningside Heights area, when I was running late for that Feminist Zine Fest a couple of months ago.

There’s also a larger statue of Pan himself in that area that someone showed me once, next time I’m up there I should find it again and get some pictures. Meanwhile, here’s an image of it and some history courtesy of a public sculpture site Columbia University keeps.


According to this link, in the 1890′s this Pan statue was originally commissioned for the Dakota, but was considered “inappropriate” for the space due to it’s nudity. Which is funny, given that the Dakota is probably associated in a number of people’s brains with something like this:

Hmmm, that was also seized in it’s day for being “pornographic”. People are stupid. Hey, give it a listen:


The House has passed a forced treatment law — speak up so that the Senate may stop this


Whether you have a mental health diagnosis or not, this seems like a severe interference with personal agency. Seriously fucked!

Originally posted on Beyond Meds:

 Please take action to help stop this. Instructions here: Stop forced (involuntary) treatment becoming the law of the land. Act now.

Press Release: SOURCE National Coalition for Mental Health Recovery  

stop-forced-txThe bill rushed through the House of Representatives by voice vote yesterday to patch Medicare regulations includes a highly controversial provision that has nothing to do with Medicare, and that would subject people in crisis to forced treatment. Studies have shown that such force causes trauma and drives people away from treatment, mental health advocates warned.

Today, an array of national mental health and disability advocacy groups joined together to decry this provision, which they view as a regressive attack on hundreds of thousands of Americans with serious mental health conditions.

“In its rush to fix a problem with Medicare, the House passed a bill including a highly controversial program, involuntary outpatient commitment, with no debate and no roll…

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“My star is on the ascendant” (sketch portrait of Eva Tanguay)

Done over morning coffee in my “Smash Journal” with gel pens, marker, & a feather earring I found on the street pasted in as a headdress. (And a little bit of digital smudging.) This is my unreal-spring-colored interpretation of vaudeville actress Eva Tanguay, from a magazine clipping a friend had given us. She was an early-day diva from Quebec who’d performed this anthem back in the early 1900′s, which needless to say from a mad pride/feminist/generally anti-authoritarian standpoint I fell in love with:

Lyr. Add: I DON’T CARE
Words Jean Lenox, Music Harry O. Sutton, 1905

Verse 1.
They say I’m crazy, got no sense,
But I don’t care.
They may or may not mean offense,
But I don’t care;
You see I’m sort of independent,
Of a clever race descendant,
My star is on the ascendant,
That’s why I don’t care.

Chorus 1
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
What they may think of me.
I’m happy go lucky,
Men say I am plucky,
So jolly and care free.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If I do get the mean and stony stare.
If I’m never successful,
It won’t be distressful,
‘Cos I don’t care.

Verse 2.
Some people say I think I’m it,
But I don’t care,
They say they don’t like me a bit,
But I don’t care;
‘Cos my good nature effervescing,
Is one, there is no distressing,
My spirit there is no oppressing,
Just ‘cos I don’t care.

Chorus 2
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If people don’t like me,
I’ll try to outlive it,
I know I’ll forgive it,
And live contentedly.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If people do not try to treat me fair.
There is naught can amaze me,
Dislike cannot daze me,
‘Cos I don’t care.

Verse 3.
If I call on a friend and she’s “not in,”
Why, I don’t care,
I simply discover I need some pins,
‘Cos I don’t care;
Her feeble slight does but amuse me,
Nothing like it could induce me,
Just ‘cos I don’t care.

Chorus 3
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If she did mean to snub.
I’m feeling so jolly,
T’would be simple folly
To even feel the rub.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If I do call on her
And she’s not there.
If she can’t say “Hello,”
She’s not a good fellow,
And I don’t care.

Verse 4.
They say my hair’s in silly style,
But I don’t care,
They but amuse me all the while,
‘Cos I don’t care;
You see my hair with me’s a fixture,
And it’s color’s not a mixture,
When they call me living picture,
Surely I don’t care.

Chorus 4
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If my hair is not dressed swell;
I’ve got no kick coming -
It’s vastly becoming,
And suits my face so well;
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
I know that style like mine
Is mighty rare.
So no one can “Phase” me,
By calling me “Crazy,”
‘Cos I don’t care.

Sung with increasing volume and rowdiness. 

In 1922, Eva recorded this song. Admittedly she was not the greatest singer, or perhaps she was trying too hard to sing in that Helen Kane-esque baby voice that was popular at the time, and it didn’t come naturally to her?

In later years more competent singers such as Judy Garland or Mitzi Gaynor (who played Eva Tanguay in a biopic). But I was morbidly curious to hear the original due to the magazine clipping, which gave a quote from Aleister Crowley, who had been a lover of hers, describing her performance and it’s effect on him:

“She is like the hashish dream of a hermit who is possessed by the devil. She cannot sing, as others sing; or dance as others dance. She simply keeps on vibrating, both limbs and vocal chords without rhythm, tone, melody, or purpose…I feel as if I were poisoned by strychnine…I jerk, I writhe, I twist, I find no ease…She is perpetual irritation without possibility of satisfaction, an Avatar of sex-somnia. Solitude of the Soul, the Worm that dieth not; ah, me!”

You know, I think that’s my ultimate aspiration as a performer. To be the hashish dream of a hermit who is possessed by the devil. It all makes sense now.





“Let the woman be girt with a sword” (Book of the Law Ch III)

Mixed media – I began this in art therapy with the watercolor crayons, and ended up having to finish it in a coffee shop with some cheap gel pens and markers I carry with me.

It’s inspired by today’s chapter from the Book Of The Law, heralding the new Æon of Ra-Hoor-Khuit.

And of course about this line, which I’ve written about before:

My other favorite line is “I will give you a war engine”. But I didn’t draw that.

“Fear not at all; fear neither men nor Fates, nor gods, nor anything. Money fear not, nor laughter of the folk folly, nor any other power in heaven or upon the earth or under the earth. Nu is your refuge as Hadit your light; and I am the strength, force, vigour, of your arms.”

“I Am The Empress & The Hierophant” (Book of the Law Ch II)

Today marks the writing of the second Chapter of the Book of the Law, the chapter of Hadit. (And you just wish you could taste what I’ve made for the feast later tonight, LOL. It. Is. Succulent.)

Read Chapter Two here:



And on a special personal side note, this is the anniversary of the day Eric proposed to me, after we finished reading Chapter II that night. <3

We are Unique and Conqueror. And so are these rainbow rats.

“There is help & hope in other spells. Wisdom says: be strong! Then canst thou bear more joy. Be not animal; refine thy rapture! If thou drink, drink by the eight and ninety rules of art: if thou love, exceed by delicacy; and if thou do aught joyous, let there be subtlety therein!
But exceed! exceed!”

Nationwide Recall of Antidepressant Issued


Hi, if any of my readers are currently taking Effexor, the following information could be important to you.

Originally posted on Bipolar For Life:

Nationwide Recall of Antidepressant Issued .

via Nationwide Recall of Antidepressant Issued.

Heads up, Effexor XR users.  Pfizer has recalled lot numbers V130142 and V130140, and Greenstone lot number V130014, because they may contain a heart medicine that could potentially be life threatening.  In case you can’t access the above linked article without a password, I will quote the relevant passage from the Medscape article here:

A voluntary nationwide recall of 3 different lots of the antidepressant venlafaxine (Effexor, Pfizer Inc) has been issued by the drug’s manufacturer owing to possible contamination with a heart drug and subsequent potentially fatal consequences.

As a precaution, Pfizer Inc is recalling 1 lot of 30-count Effexor XR (venlafaxine HCI) 150 mg extended-release capsules, 1 lot of 90-count Effexor XR (venlafaxine HCl) 150 mg extended-release capsules, and 1 lot of 90-count Greenstone LLC-branded venlafaxine HCl 150 mg extended-release capsules.

According to Pfizer, the…

View original 185 more words

Happy Nuit! (Book Of The Law Ch I)

Chapter One of The Book of the Law, performed at Catland by Ayesha Adamo, Bryce Churchill, and Eric Blitz.

Or it can be read online, just click the poster below:

From Hermetic.com:

“This is the anniversary of the day on which Chapter I of Liber XXXI, the manuscript of what would become Liber AL vel Legis, Book of the Law, was received in a magical working by Aleister Crowley and Rose Kelly in 1904 EV. “

Yeah, That’s What She Said pics

Yeah, I only took about 9 photos, and it took my this long to get them all up online. No, I don’t have Instagram. I don’t even have a “smart” phone. Chaos reigns.
YTWSS Wall 01

Here’s one of the walls…

Grace Mateo Live Painting

Here’s artist Grace Mateo doing a live painting aktion with a paintbrush inserted into a strap-on. Sorry I cut off part of her face in this picture, there was a pretty big crowd around this.

Opening Party 01

Here’s a crowd forming early on.


Me with one of my pieces (photo by Eric Blitz)

You can see the rest of the set here:


We didn’t stay late because I’d spent much of the day helping get things ready and was kind of spent by the time the opening party rolled round.

It’s been a strange couple of days since we learned of the crossing over of Leee Black Childers. For Eric, Leee was one of the first people he encountered when he came to New York in 1977, though he had met him previously at a Johnny Thunders gig in Kentucky(the state both he and Leee escaped from, amongst other luminaries…). I met Leee on the tail end of the 90′s, when Mz. Pakman was playing some of the shows at the flame-ensconced, Warhol interior-decorated Gershwin hotel. He was always nice enough to a schizo-affective and drug addled girl who had never sang in a band before and was just figuring it out as she went along.

Here’s a photo from a time we played one of Leee’s birthday parties at Don Hill’s…and were introduced to his vivacious and longtime friend (and way more legendary punk rocker than anyone else in this photo) Jayne County.


I’m mad sweaty because my idea of performing a gig a the time included jumping and writing all over like a maniac cranked up on herbal speed…not that anyone’s endorsing herbal speed here. Stupid FDA outlawed it anyway.

5/23/11 La La Land – You Darken My Life (TW rape, suicide)


Here is a newspaper article from around this time referring to the same story (though it says he raped 11 women, not 13. Either I saw a paper with a typo, or more likely made one myself when I drew this in the van back home.)


Also it states that “You Light Up My Life” was not an 80′s song but the biggest hit of the 70′s, which I guess is just one of the many reasons punk had to happen, kids. I guess I associated it with the 80′s because as a child my Mom clothed us by way of bags full of hand-me-downs from the five-kid family across the street. Once when I was about 6 this resulted in a faded blue sweatshirt decorated with cartoon light bulbs and hearts and the slogan “you light up my life”. Thankfully I was way too much of a socially inept dipshit to realize the reference was even more outdated than I thought. Is this a good time to mention I was never one of the “cool” kids? LOL.

Anyway, when you’re a rape survivor you’ll often find no shortage of people looking to tell you how you should feel, and people who are more outraged if you express anger about rape than they seem to be about the fact that rape exists. On one hand you have the “new age hippy types” mentioned in the comic, who think everything needs to be “letting go” and “positive vibes” and crystal rainbows shooting out of the asses of unicorns or whatever. Much of this is code for “don’t be a buzzkill by pointing out the world isn’t as perfect as my own precious little life”.

On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve also encountered conservative Christian types who’ve told me I was obligated to forgive my rapist because…well basically because their interpretation of God said to. Failure to comply would result in burning in Hell. For a while I was resigned to the fact that Hell awaited me because I knew I did not feel that forgiveness in my heart. And if I knew it, certainly an all-knowing, omnipresent Deity would know it too, wouldn’t they? So what would be the use of mouthing empty words of forgiveness that would add lying to my list of sins?

Then there are the pop-psychology types who insist “letting go” and “forgiving” would be for my benefit, not the rapist’s. But as I said in example two, you can’t fake those things when know you really feel inside. And as I said in example one, it comes across like more code for “I don’t want to think about this social problem.”

There are even people within the feminist movement who say that when trying to combat rape we all need to “stop viewing rapists as monsters” (why shouldn’t we view them as we see fit? we survivors are the ones who had to deal with them.) or who speak mockingly about “the myth of the rapist being the stranger in the bushes/alleyway.” This latter one particularly frustrates me because while it’s true that the majority of rapes occur at the hands of someone the victim knows, that doesn’t negate the existence of stranger rape altogether.  The rape I experienced at age 14 was by a stranger, a drifter I encountered while crossing the desert, and I can assure you he was flesh and blood, by no means “mythical”.

Now I’m not saying that forgiveness or letting go can’t be part of the healing process…for some people. For others, insistence that they need to feel these ways can be very invalidating and dismissive. Some may need to be able to acknowledge their hurt with rage, or even hatred directed at their attacker, or attackers in general. The world is all too full of girls who are questioned about what they wore, drank or said, guys who are flat out told that “boys can’t get raped”, transwomen accused of engaging in some kind of “deceit”. All logical fallacies that heap pain on top of pain, and then to tell these people that they don’t have a right to feel angry on top of it all just creates even more damage.

At the same time, if a survivor chooses the path of forgiveness, if this is what helps them, conversely no one has the right to tell them they should remain angry and wrathful.

So anyway, that’s where all this is coming from. You may now commence with posting that Gandhi quote about how “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” like I’ve NEVER EVER been lectured with it before! (Besides, don’t some people make the same claim about masturbation?) Phoolan Devi regarded Gandhi as one of her inspirations, and she was also pretty much known for massacring a whole village full of rapists. That must’ve been a sight.


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