GODSPELL and also do GRAMMAR

So in-between all the cheer-making noise about nerves at the White House, and Republicans now starting to diss the until-now-above-reproach Fitzgerald in advance, just in case, you may have missed the news about Anne Rice. Her next book will be about Jesus, in his voice.
Ms.Rice was a student of my friend Bill Weigand who was in the Creative Writing Program with me at Stanford. He taught her writing at San Francisco State, where he told me she wrote soft porn. But as a result of the flooding of New Orleans, and a spiritual awakening, she has turned to the realms of Ralph Reed, leaving the dark shadows and pulsing arteries behind, with perhaps just a weeny thought of picking up the Christian market. Jesus' voice, I read, will date from when he was seven. So if no one objects, or even if they do, I will speak with the voice of a writer who confuses herself with God.
A POME:

I would forgive myself
The loneliness
If only I held in hand
A work of Art
For it is the task of the artist
To be lonely
Because if someone were there
To brighten up the time
He might never create.
I wonder if God felt like that.


I am not going to answer Myself right away, as I am only qualified to feel with the sentiments of a very young God, not yet self-realized. So probably my response would be a bit mawkish, as I have always imagined it was lonely work, Creation, and resting among the cold swirl of stars. It is at this point that I must monitor myself(that's my little self, not the Big One) since the government is trying to get universities to change their e-mails so they can be monitored for terrorists, a not-so-subtle hint that we are being watched/and or listened to electronically. You may recall some months ago when i (little Gwen) lost my closest relationship from college, my vacation invitation rescinded, because what I was writing was 'Inflamatory.' I did not correct my friend's spelling, as I knew she was already distressed at my having likened Bush to pond scum, which she said spoke of my not having an education, something we both knew was not so. I look back at it now as maybe having been a protective act on her part, rather than a rejection, as she is a Republican with heavy government connections, so maybe she knows we all better be careful.

What'sa Blogger to Do?

Some days the news defies satirizing. The past few editions of the papers and announcements on TV seem themselves to be parodies. A woman chosen as candidate for the solidest seat in the land who has never even judged a hog-calling contest,and considers W "the most brilliant man i ever met." Where's she been, in a kennel? While those of us who were dreamers enough to believe an education majoring in English could equip you for survival in the world, reel under mis-used and uninformed language, even high school dropouts wince at the opinion that things are getting "more better."
Bali bombed again. The most peaceful people on the planet are the Balinese, who believe in Instant Karma: that which you send out will boomerang back,so nobody loses their temper, they are so afraid of anger. Of course, occasionally there is that hapless burglar caught in stealing delicto coming out a window, at which point the whole village beats him to death, flees,and the police ask no questions. But aside from that, the most peaceful and loving people on the earth.
Those of you who know me understand I am a Quaker-Buddhist-Jew, something my husband begged me to put on the questionnaire for my Bryn Mawr reunion years ago to drive everybody crazy. But in addition to that, I get the Daily Word, a peaceful, uplifting thought to start the day with. And they passed my name on to the Daily Dig, which e-mails me uplifting thoughts in case I don't have enough, sometimes from Tolstoy, sometimes Dorothy Day, or Reinhold Niebuhr. But today's Daily Dig,coinciding with the right hand column of The New York Times warning of Bird Flu, said that Bush had asked Congress to let him call in the Military in the event of an Avian breakout. I of course thought it was a joke. Someone had hacked their way in and found an even greater absurdity than is the fact. So I e-mailed them back asking if it was a joke. No, they responded, deadly serious. Deadly. Serious.
I'm not sure if the military is supposed to move against the birds or the people who contract the flu, but I wish there was some way to get them to move against Bush. I spoke to my longtime idol Kurt Vonnegut, who says it's too late, that there's nothing we can do. But he is tired, by his own admission, and old, and., I am afraid,ready to pack it in. But what about the rest of us? Is there nothing we can do?
Enjoy every minute of every day. God knows, or maybe George will tell him so he'll know, how much time we have left. Take your clue from Mimi, who drinks in the weather and the water while it's here. Sneeze not lest you be sent to Guantanamo. Father,forgive him: he knows not what he does. But You already know that.