Global Warming

I just thinking about the right-wing argument to global warming: “We’ll adapt.”  But they don’t believe in evolution. So how do they figure we’re going to adapt? It’s a fundamentally fallacious argument. And I didn’t even notice it until now because I never questioned evolution – yet they do. So they can’t make that argument. It is off the table for them to use as an answer by their own logic.

It’s kind of their same crazy argument: “Government bad,” while they’re running for positions in the government. If they hate government so much and they think its so ineffective why do they want to be a part of it?

Just some thoughts and some points to make with your right wing family members and friends…

Best wishes,

Denise

Global Warming

Clarification about the George Noory Interview

When I was on Coast to Coast I was rattled by the barrage of questions and interruptions. I wanted to clarify that when I said the thing that was going to destroy this world wasn’t going to be what he believed at the time, an impending war in Libya. Rather it would be climate change. When he asked how long I said 30 years. But instead of getting to explain what I meant by that he was like, “30 years, we’ll all be dead by then.” I made a comment that I wouldn’t be nor did I expect my kid to be.

In fact this is the very problem with being short-sighted. Go ahead George Bush Jr. have a giant party on the American people, kill hundreds of thousands of people in the middle-east for no reason – because of a lie and then leave our country bankrupt for the next president to fix. This is the way of the Republican party since what was called “The Southern Strategy.”

The “Southern Strategy,” took direct aim at enticing racists in the south to get their vote since none would vote Republican due to the Civil War. Yes, they held a grudge until their own hatred was used to turn them toward the Republican party. This happened around the time of Nixon and has been the strategy ever since. This is HISTORICAL FACT. Look it up if you don’t believe me.

Now back to my point about Noory. I love his show and he’s a good man. I think either he was nervous since I was a new guest that I wasn’t going to perform so he over-reached in his desire to keep the conversation flowing. I don’t blame him for my inablity to get my point across – there was however very limited time. However the point I was trying to make was over the next 30 years we will see the human population on this earth dwindle due to natural disasters, famines – due to weather problems, and everything one can imagine from a changing earth. 30 years is not very long for 7 billion people to be wiped out.

It’s my very strong psychic belief that the road we are on is one in which our kind will be wiped out in a whimper not a bang. If we are lucky we can turn it around – in the “fiction” book I wrote, Americhrist, (first draft started in 1998 and finished in 1999) based on visions I had of the future, we are a divided people – those on the extreme right which stands against science. A few of each tribe survived and a conflict ensues. I don’t want to give it away as it will eventually come out and you can read it in full. But the amount of people who are left on this continent are literally in the thousands. I decided to focus primarily on North America since that’s where I live. I’m sure there will be pockets of people who survive all over the world but it will be miniscule compared to how many of us there are now.

However I KNOW WE CAN CHANGE THIS! I STILL BELIEVE IN HUMANITY AND OUR BRILLIANCE! If we took this SERIOUSLY we could FIX it. This is why I wrote the book, to make it so real, so visceral that it motivated people to DO something about it.

Yes, that is the future I see and it scares the hell out of me. And to answer one person who commented here – I always feel like Cassandra and as you can see by the right-wing ostriches who freak out on me – I am also blamed for the message. It’s frustrating to feel like I’m trying to warn this big bus it’s about to go off a cliff but instead of the driver listening to me – he and half the people on it are giving me the finger as they drive off the cliff – as if I put the cliff there? Pretty irrational, depressing and sad.

That’s humanity for you. Do the world a favor by exposing the truth – Michael Moore, Al Gore and countless others and you get rewarded with death threats.

Nice.

My prayers go out to all those on the east coast.

Many blessings,

Denise

Clarification about the George Noory Interview

Premonition about Hurricane’s in New York

Here is a science fiction book that I published for a while on this site. I took it down because a publishing company is interested in putting it out. It needs some editing but it has won several small literary prizes. I wrote it back in 1999. It took a few years of editing and rebuilding the middle section to make it work the way I wanted it to. However the vision I had of New York being hit by a hurricane is in it. In actuality the entire novel came from visions I had of the future. I have taken an excerpt from the novel and am publishing it here. In the book the only two cities still left (in terms of major cities functioning as such) are New York and Washington, D.C. The main character Psyche and her boyfriend Ira live in Washington D.C. she is unknowingly working on a secret black op project for the government through a private company. Her discovery of this comes after this part of the book. It takes place approximately 30 years in the future:

I scooped Chi up and sat next to Ira to watch the news.

“New York City has been devastated by this unforeseen monster. Shouldn’t the NWFS have warned of this killer hurricane?” the anchorman and actor, Bill Surnow, queried. Shaky video footage from surveillance cameras around the city ran behind him. Buildings swayed from high winds and water suddenly crashed through the streets, the camera went blue. “More after we take a break,” a disembodied voice said.

I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed my mother, simultaneously asking Ira, “What’s going on?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?”

I shook my head. “There’s a busy signal.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying all day. They say the lines are down from North Carolina to Maine.”

I dialed my mother’s cell and waited as it endlessly rang.

Ira’s voice cracked. “I’ve already tried that number, too.”

The heroic New York, having survived terrorist attacks, plagues, and earthquakes, was now being washed to sea. The images were gruesome and horrifying. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother’s short white hair. Her hunched feeble body and the familiar smell of her sandalwood oil, drowning.

The fear mom had to have experienced, seeing the ocean pitched like a tray of water – the sound of breaking bricks and mortar splintering, and glass shattering – people screaming.

Mom alone. Trapped in the brownstone.

Warren Street bursting with salt water, busting down the cobbled street, exploding two hundred year old row houses into broken brick walls with rocking chairs and baby’s cribs, sofas and teddy bears pouring out of holes – everything taken by the water — people struggling to grab anything floating by to keep themselves steady in the raging flood. The water infested with rats and trash, the tide crashing hard against each new building it sought to destroy.

My home.

My mother.

I was outside myself.

It wasn’t like me to cry even now the hot tightening in the deep of my throat felt like a far away tunnel. I was frozen. Emotionally paralyzed. “I spoke to her yesterday. She’s all right. Right? She’s okay, isn’t she?”

Ira moved gently across the sparse room and caught my hand in his. Its warmth momentarily penetrating my numbness.

The commercial break ended. A grim Bill Surnow stood at the anchor desk to announce, “Early estimates for Hurricane Xavier are thought to include hundreds of thousands dead and many more missing. One source reported most of Brooklyn and Long Island shore entirely decimated. There is little hope the area will ever recover.”

Bill Surnow cut to a local reporter who was standing in the middle of an ER in Queens. “The hospitals are inundated with the injured. In Manhattan F5 winds cracked and shattered windows, glass chards sharp as daggers hurtled in every direction. The scene more gruesome than words could describe.”

I dialed my mother, Miriam’s home again. Again, no use – Mom’s cell phone message in a feminine dulcet voice, sang “All circuits are busy.”

The University where she worked, recited in an ancient automated voice, “You’re call can not go through. Please hang up and dial again.” I went through lists of friends and relatives, but to no avail.

I bottled up the urge to throw the phone across the room and instead demanded of Ira, “When?”

“Around noon the Weather Service started to see signs of a hurricane gathering…”

“But how?” I asked him.

“The conditions were just right off the coast of North Carolina…”

“But why? Nothing…” I stopped myself because my voice was starting to quiver. It was as if my cranium had cracked like a polar ice cap and it was melting so fast the water was drowning me. I raised my voice at Ira, “It’s impossible.”

Ira, who had arrived at my side to give comfort, retreated. “Take it easy, Psyche everything is going to be OK.” He said this with all the skill and assurance of a man who had never had to utter such words.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy. And it’s not going to be OK. My mother is missing. She’s probably dead and you have no answers. No one has answers.” I grabbed my coat and headed toward the front door. Ira followed me.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to think.”

“You can’t go out, it’s dark and late.”

But I darted past him and left. The storm that had hit New York was coming into town and it was cool and misty out. Ira busted out the front door and ran after me. “It’s dangerous.”

“I need to be by myself.” He tried to grab me, but I shook him off. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

“When will you be back?” He pleaded. He looked concerned and confounded. In eight years I had never raised my voice or shed the smallest tear in front of him.

It was starting to drizzle and I wiped a gathered tear of rain from his cheek and said, “As soon as I can.” A moment later I broke into a run and headed into a dark alley.

I felt a drop of water run down my face and I wasn’t sure if it was me, or the rain. But it didn’t matter. I roamed the streets dotted with city lanterns and sickly trees. The cold moon followed as if mocking my pain with a twisted snarl on her face. The rain halos around the street lamps tainted with memories of Brooklyn – things I tried to hold back but couldn’t – waving good-bye to my mom from the car as she stood on the stoop, never thinking it would be the last time I saw her.

That image I couldn’t shake no matter how long or far I walked.

I hadn’t noticed time slipping by or the pound of my footsteps or the chill or the rain soaking through me until I hit the Potomac and I stared at the obstacle it posed on my quest to loose myself. I had walked at least five miles and I knew I had to get back before Ira started a vain attempt to find me. It felt like the edge of the earth and the edge of time, I was crashing and splintering like a fine piece of porcelain hitting concrete.

And then I saw them. A woman about my age, in her early thirties, holding a small limp girl in her arms and struggling to walk the rain slicked stairs.

Logic told me not to, they could have been afflicted with a plague or a crime may have been taking place, but I ran toward them. Something compelled me. And for the first time I can remember, I discarded logic and apathy.

By the time I got to them the mother was struggling to put her dying child in the car. She was about to lay the girl on the sidewalk to open the door when I took her from the woman’s hands. She looked at me as if I had always been there like some sort of guardian angel. We said nothing. She opened the door and I slid the girl into the backseat. Seconds later the woman was backing out of the driveway, barely getting the driver’s side door fully closed as she sped down the street.

On the way home I wondered about them, whether the mother had gotten the girl to a hospital in time, if the girl would survive. Helping them had for a moment made me feel a little less helpless. And through my personal darkness I treasured that feeling like an heirloom.

Ira was fully dressed and ready to start his search when I let myself in. It looked like he had been crying. The flat screen was a cacophony of devastation behind him.

“If I wasn’t so happy to see you I’d strangle you right now,” he said grabbing me.

“I’m not a child.”

“And what? You didn’t think I’d be worried? Why are you punishing me like this?”

“This isn’t about you, Ira.”

“Yes it is. It’s about you not letting me in. I want to help you, but you make it impossible.”

I nodded. He put his arms around me and held me until I couldn’t be held any longer without breaking down again. “I’m sorry,” I said.

There was a repeat of an earlier news broadcast. It was a press conference with none other then my boss Paul Lamont. I sat down to watch it.

Lamont looked too put together, in a suit that would have cost an average person a year’s wages. He was unnaturally relaxed for the circumstances. “There has been a rush to judgment by the scientific community about the Atlantic’s rise in temperature and global warming. For years I’ve poured over countless studies, reviewed thousands of reports and culled through all the supposed proof. I’ve never found a correlation. The evidence is overwhelming for a natural shift in the Earth’s climate. This has occurred many times before human history. It’s unfortunate that we happen to be living during one of these intense global changes.”

I yelled at the screen, “Fucking asshole! Those studies were done by oil companies – they have no credibility. They’ve been discredited by every independent survey done by the scientific community.”

Paul then took a question from Bill Surnow. “What about the ozone hole?”

Paul responded, “Another natural phenomena caused by radiation emitted during solar storms. We’ve seen evidence of holes before in layers of igneous rock. And it’s been repairing itself over the past forty years.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

Ira cautioned me, “Just hold on a minute,”

Bill Surnow asked his follow up, “Are you suggesting all the horrible tragedies that have occurred over the past forty years, are simply a result of natural earth changes?”

“Absolutely,” Lamont said. He waived away any further questions and left the podium.

Ira sat down beside me. “I saw it this afternoon, but I don’t get why they’re still trying to cover up the global warming thing when it’s been proven countless times.”

I hit the rewind button and replayed Lamont’s speech, freezing a medium shot of him and examining it carefully. “There’s something strange about this. I was taken in to see him this morning at work.”

A curious Ira walked back in. He asked, “You were?”

“Strauch was there, too.”

“The President was at Digibio?”

I continued to stare at the screen trying to determine what exactly was different about Paul Lamont. Was his hair a little longer? I went through the catalogue of images fresh in my mind from the boardroom meeting. Yes. But without a physical picture, I couldn’t be sure. His clothes were obviously different. The suit most patently not something he would wear to work. Of course he must have changed. Then I noted something that confirmed my suspicion.

“This was prerecorded,” I said.

“What makes you think that?”

“When I saw him this morning he had a cut on chin.” I paused the image and zoomed closer, pointing to his chin. “There’s nothing there.”

Ira squinted. “They knew this would happen.”

“Yeah, and they didn’t give us any warning.”

“But why?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I can’t think about it right now.”

 

Think about this when you decide how to vote. Is this the world you want for your children? One in which science is disregarded and we have slick politicians ready to lie to you in order to save only themselves?

Best wishes and good luck,

Denise

 

Chapter 2 – Sleepless Night

(2044, January through June)

 

 

 

Gale force winds and thunder, garbage cans crashing over, objects slamming into walls and fences, and Ira slept through all of it like a kitten cuddling at his mother’s breast – but not me. My mind and heart were on fire.

Chi followed me, meowing for treats. It was cold downstairs. The angry wind forced its way between door and window cracks. I grabbed Ira’s ratty old sweater. The first present I had given him. It was the only thing left from that period of his life, perhaps a small reminder of how far he’d come since the penitentiary. I barely knew him then. We had dated about a year. He told me he worked for an Internet research corporation, a consumer watchdog group that kept an eye on the defense department – it had some crazy name I forcibly forgot.

There was never any question. I was instantly in love and hopelessly naive about human nature. Turned out he was part of a watchdog group of hackers who stole classified information and sold it to reporters for a premium. To him it was noble, the people had a right to know and he had a right to make a living. Really, it was closest to intellectual prostitution although he saw himself as a twenty first century Robyn Hood. He could have been building something great instead of hunting down and exploiting government weakness. But who was I to judge? I knew his heart was good and his intentions were pure. And I loved him. He loved me. So I waited.

We avoided talking about it. And if we had to refer to that period there was a code – words that lessened the pain or importance for both of us. Anything to make it less real than it was. Usually if I referred to it, I said, “When you lived in the country.” He usually said, “During that time.”

When I was hired at Digibio, they ran a background check. Nothing came up in the preliminary. A month later they revoked access to anything but the chlorophyll research lab and the cafeteria. But it didn’t really bother me.

The teakettle was singing. Only one bag of Chamomile left, hopefully it would help put me in a coma. And I could wake tomorrow discovering it had all been just a horrible nightmare.

The lights browned. The drawer had only three emergency candles left from the previous storm, which had ended two weeks prior. It had lasted thirty-five days straight and the power had consistently gone out during peak hours. According to the weatherman another hurricane was due to hit North Carolina. But other than historic value there was nothing left there. Both Carolinas were dead states. Neither state had money for scrims and except for folklore about people surviving off the land in the forest – there wasn’t a soul within a hundred miles of New York or D.C. And now all that was left was D.C. There were reports of a smattering of survivors in Seattle but the numbers were low.

I walked to the sofa and stared out the window, drinking tea. Chi sat on my lap. The rain was fierce and reminded me of New York, in my mother’s old brownstone. There had been a very bad storm when I was ten. We had both woken for different reasons. The thunder and lightening had cast shadows of monsters on the wall scaring me out of the room – while Mom contended with a real beast. She was setting out buckets all over the living room to catch the water oozing out of the fissures and cracks in the ceiling. Later I found out she had been afraid the whole damn roof was going to cave in on us, but at the time she pretended it was a game – a fun thing to do together. She had me searching for bowls, buckets, and hats – until each little fissure was represented by a counterpart on the worn hardwood floor – and when a bucket would fill, she would grab one of the mongrel cups or bowls from my loot while pouring the buckets contents into the kitchen sink and then dutifully replace them.

But even though she presented a calm rational exterior I knew something was very wrong. And I remember admiring her. She was fearless, capable and godlike. Nothing could harm me with her protection. She was able to keep the world away with her brilliant mind and convert anyone in her circle of influence to her point of view.

But that night I saw panic when she didn’t know I was watching. It was complicated seeing it and not wanting to see it. So I chose to believe the buckets were a game, knowing it was a protective lie – a lie affirming her love for me.

The streetlights flickered in the rain. Some UV scrims down the block looked as if a colossal box cutter had sliced them – they flapped in the wind like serpent shaped kites.

D.C. was tolerable. It was cleaner than New York and had a much more reliable and quick acting body pick up service unlike the Corner Hut Drop Off Centers of New York, which were always teeming with mutant flies and reeked of decaying flesh no matter how often the workers cleaned them out. It was an ineffectual system and a health hazard. But you hardly ever saw the dead on the streets like you did here in D.C., even if they didn’t stay long on the walkways you were still confronted with them daily.

Maybe it was a bit healthier here but I preferred New York. It felt more like an old city, with people doing all different sorts of things besides just working for the government or on some government related project. More than anything it was my connection to a personal history I missed – even if New York barely resembled the one of my youth and even if it never snowed anymore and the winters felt like warm fall days from childhood. I knew it. Somewhere under its fading, wilting petals the stem was the same.

And despite the elaborate scrim maze providing the best UV protection in the world (or so we were told by our government) I had preferred shabby New York. If only I could have gotten my mother to move. But that was like asking lead to turn into gold. And even though it got tiresome always wearing a protection suit or carry a UV umbrella or coating my skin with titanium dioxide which made me and my mom break out like hormonal teenagers if we so much as looked at the stuff, she would hear nothing of the virtues of my new city. She desperately loved all that was left of New York.

On the steps of the apartment building across the street a black shape moved. It was big enough to be a person but could have been a box or a piece of furniture left out for trash pick-up which had caught in the gale force wind, but most likely it was one of the infected. A crack of lightening lit the street clearly and I saw the woman. Skeleton Plague. Aptly named for the visual state it left its victims in – their skin and fat tissues were literally cannibalized by their bodies immune system and the results were a horrifying sight – skin turned paper white, taught and veiny, held up by the jagged tent poles of their bones.

The government said Skeleton Plague was communicable, but it was an autoimmune disease. The scientific community was still debating its genesis and treat-ability, but that was it. We knew something was turning white blood cells into cannibalistic machines, whether it was UV-B, UV-A rays or some other solar radiation mixed with pollution we weren’t certain. There was always a new outbreak during solar flares and there had never been any evidence of it being contagious, but people were afraid and the CDC had decided early on it was best to treat it like all the other plagues that had come down the pike and keep its victims quarantined. Those that got it generally spent a lot of time outside and didn’t alter their behavior during solar flare warnings or relied only on the city scrims to protect them. The woman had probably escaped from quarantine in a vein attempt to see her family one last time, but they wouldn’t open the door for her.

In the next crack of lightening I saw her convulsing. She was in the last throws of life. I called the health department and a few minutes later I saw a Hazmat team take her body away. No fanfare, no ceremony. Life reduced to inconvenient garbage. It hadn’t always been like that. I could almost remember a different time. Mom told me crazy stories about her childhood and what seemed like an Edenic period at the turn of the century. I never really believed her until I was in college and studied history.

…..

Blessings to all – our thoughts and prayers are with all of you on the east coast,

Denise

Premonition about Hurricane’s in New York

War is here… now

Here’s my answer to a reader about Donald Trump and all that he represents:

Besides Donald Trump being a dangerous horrible idiot he’s also a narcissistic egomaniac. I think he really believes he could win the presidency because he’s a dangerously delusion person. Of course he would completely ruin this country if he were elected into office because he is about as diplomatic as a live grenade. Do I think he could win? Well all I have to say is Arnold Schwarzenegger. People seem to be in love with celebrity – we have replaced the pantheon of Gods and Goddesses with morons, narcissists and idiots. Perhaps we need the old religion which had more examples and pathways to the Great Spirit. Perhaps we yearn for connection through those who mirror us. Unfortunately if this is true we are in a very sad state.

We are currently in a class war – one that dates back to the blowing open of the gates – the Watergate era, followed by the first truly corporate president Ronald Reagan. I’m not sure Reagan knew the damage he was doing. I like to believe that he was hoodwinked by the right to be the spokesman of their (internal in terms of doing it inside the government) coo without really knowing he was. His son, whom I greatly respect, is primarily the reason I believe Ronald senior was most likely a descent man used (as so many middle and lower-income people are being used now) by the wealthy to advance a truly amoral agenda.

I always scoffed at the notion of “trickle down economics” firstly because I grew up in a very affluent neighborhood (that we didn’t belong in – we lived in a townhouse on social security checks and life insurance my father had bought years before his passing when I was 10). I knew the hearts and minds of the very wealthy in ways very few are privileged to know. I knew their children who espoused their values without the crust of age and experience to keep their real feelings and philosophies covered. I heard some of the most unimaginably amoral, immoral and hideous things said as common truths – social Darwinism was a given in the most extreme sense of that statement. There was no empathy for the underprivileged, only a social club that went into the ghetto to teach illiterate children as a sort of bait and switch to their true value system which was the belief that the wealthy are better – they deserve more, they are supreme and the poor are lazy, stupid and deserve what they get even if that means suffering and death. Hideous but absolutely true – many probably won’t believe me. In fact I know people won’t believe me because I’ve been telling people, friends, descent human beings this since I was entrenched in this bizarre world where people went to church on Sunday and then sucked the earth dry of every resource in order to hoard it for themselves. Yes, it is easier to fit a camel through the eye of a needle than a wealthy man into heaven. I saw this first hand.

The first stage of the war against the poor and middle class was to dismantle the unions. Sure some were bloated, some were corrupt but lest we forget what life was like before they existed – just pick up a book by Dickens and you’ll see clearly the way the rich like it. The civil war – a rich man’s war to keep their slaves, using the poor southerners via their racism and pride as a tool against their interest (living) to fight a war that only the wealthy truly had a stake in and only the wealthy benefited from – this is a perfect example of the way many of the wealthiest one percent would like to see our country go – if they could have slaves again, they’d do it in a heartbeat, hence the dismantling of the minimum wage, next it will be age restrictions for working if they get momentum on the wage issue.

There are two kinds of rich – old money or the idle rich as I like to call them, who do nothing but live off the achievement of some great, great, great, great, grandparent who actually contributed something to the world during their time and then invested the family money for generations to inherit. These idle rich hate the “Nuevo riche” the people who newly acquire money – meaning the people who actually earned the money they became wealthy from, the Bill Gates and the Steve Jobs of this world. You know the people who actually really produce jobs for regular folks, not the people who live off the fat left over from their (once common low to middle-class) ancestors. Those “old money” people spend their days taking care of themselves and their money, buying influence, protecting their interests and making sure they can make more money in the market. It’s interesting that they are usually the very same people who accuse poor people of being lazy when truly they have no purpose on this planet and are more akin to tics than human beings. They live off all of us who actually work and keep their world moving forward. The biggest way they contribute to the economy is through buying things, fancy furniture, fine art, clothing, etc.

Now here’s the thing. The 1960s was a very scary time for them, coming off the heels of the most financial growth of anytime during American history. The middle class grew to enormous proportions, the rich got richer as did everyone. You’d think that the wealthy would look upon the economy booming and love it because it means more money in their coffers. But with more money, more education came and people started asking questions. Why do we have to fight the communists in Vietnam? Isn’t that a sovereign nation with the right to decide its own fate? Riots took place, the left became extremely radicalized and the wealthy started to become the target of the growing understanding that a capitalist culture is antithetical to democracy as it stood. Money buys influence and effects legislation. The tying together of corporate interests with the government is fascism and as we all know corporate interests are generally not in line with what’s good for the average person, such as toxic dumping, air pollution, and endless problems associated with industry. Not to mention the corporate bottom line is biggest when they have low overhead, cheap labor and don’t have to pay taxes. Break up the unions, you break up people’s collective bargaining power, work on the congress – lobby for tax breaks for corporations and pay less taxes you get the idea.

All of this has been going on – this war began after FDR put in place regulations to control monopolies (the original source of the world financial crisis that plunged us into the Great Depression as well as Europe, especially Germany). It was those regulations or laws, which were based on the same sort of laws we as ordinary citizens would have to follow (in principle) that kept capitalism on a relatively even playing field. The breakdown of which over the past 30 years we are now seeing the results of.

Forget the history lesson above, here’s the point I want to make invention, intellectual leaps, progress and solutions don’t come from the rich, even jobs don’t, only a very small minority of jobs come directly from those newly rich people who actually are contributing members of society. Invention and intellectual leaps come from the middle-class, the class of people educated enough to want to reach upward and grab the golden ring not people sipping Manhattans while tanning themselves in Tahiti. The wealthiest one percent don’t have an incentive to solve anything, for them everything is solved, they are taken care of. Sure there are those rare individuals who want to contribute and who I salute like the young documentary film maker who exposed his world in “The One Percent,” an excellent entrance into the way people are indoctrinated into this bizarre entitled ideology and also a revelation on many other fronts.

If we lose the middle-class we become a third world country. And we also lose any chance we have of solving Global Warming, of advancing civilization or developing space travel. The rich will own us (as they wish to) and we will eventually be pushed into fighting or dying or both. They have successfully used racism/sexism/homophobia and fear to divide us. They have so confused the average person that he/she often votes against their own interest.

It is not a coincidence that the world is literally being flooded, deluged with tornadoes, earthquakes and soon hurricanes at unprecedented levels. It’s a wake up call: we must come together and fix what is broken.

I ask those who have the power and money to actually make a difference in this world these simple questions: What will it be worth when you have everything and there is nothing and no one left to lord it over or give it to? Are you that insecure you need to feel better than other people, is that what blinds you to the suffering and pain surrounding you? Do you love your family? If you answered yes to that, then what the hell are you doing to preserve this world for them?

Many blessings to the good and may the greedy find the world as wicked as they are,

Denise

War is here… now

Global Warming, Diabetes, UVA & UVB Rays, the Tiny Ice Age

OK, I guess because as Al Gore’s seminal movie, An Inconvenient Truth, pointed out “Global Warming,” is actually kind of a dumb name for what is happening and the effect of climate change on the earth. As his documentary pointed out we will go through a small ice age – and, hey folks looks like it’s here – ironically, these seriously cold winters and strange climatic shifts are not just everything getting hotter. The ecological system, the change of ancient oceanic water streams and melting of the ice caps will create bizarre weather – giant tornados, extreme flooding, and huge droughts, crop failures and so many more horrifying things. Many of which we have yet to even figure out. So I find it odd that people who appear to have a very cursory knowledge of climate change all of a sudden think it’s bunk because the last couple of years were cold. Go check out Al’s documentary, it’s in there!

When writing my book Americhrist I did a lot of research into the subject. One of the most bizarre and fascinating links between climate change, the depletion of the ozone layer and us, was that UVB rays (which previously were thought to be harmless) were actually causing cellular damage. It appeared there was a link between over exposure to UVB rays and auto immune diseases, which were popping up like crazy and becoming more prolific.

Tonight I read an article in the May 2010 Discover magazine called Child’s Plague about a town (Weston, Massachusetts) which had this crazy frighteningly giant increase in Type 1 Diabetes, you know childhood diabetes, the one that isn’t suppose to be lifestyle driven. I knew immediately (although it seems no one else has put it together yet) the answer to that the question asked in the article, of why.

100 years ago type 1 diabetes was a 1 in 100,000 proposition. And school nurses in the town of Weston who had served for decades had never seen more than one or two students in their 2300 population at one time, and often there were none. Now all of a sudden there were 28 and counting. As it turned out the neighboring communities were also experiencing a prolific rise in the disease.

No offense to scientists, they are brilliant and I love science, however their down fall is often their lack of creativity and ability to think outside the box. They often are so specialized they look at their own tiny piece of the puzzle and expect to find answers there. This is why Einstein stood out despite the fact that his IQ wasn’t actually that high. I mean it was about 150 which of course is very high, genius level, but there are people who have and had another 50 points on him, and do nothing but write gossip columns. It was his creativity, imagination and ability to take leaps that made him so brilliant. In actually he often didn’t understand the application of his ideas, it was other people who were intellectually more gifted than he, that saw the brilliance in his ideas. Einstein was a Pisces – a highly spiritual, emotional and creative sign. In his case he was a strange merger between intellect and divine spiritual intelligence. I believe he was a channel or gateway, a visionary. A place intellect alone can not take us to.

Now back to the subject of the rise of Diabetes. It’s been the conventional wisdom that the rise of type 2 Diabetes has been due completely to diet and obesity. Granted type 2 does appear to be connected in a large part to this, however I have an uncle who is thin, has always been thin, loves to dance like a nut case, is amazingly physically fit and has always eaten healthfully. Yet, he got type 2 diabetes despite the fact that he was not at all overweight, and was literally going dancing on a nightly bases. So? What gives. It appears that the rise of both types of diabetes have been going through the roof. And although we have been led to believe 3 + 3 = 7, it’s not that simple nor accurate.

OK, back to the research I did, starting in the late 1990s, about global warming and the things scientists expected to see as a result (BTW they’ve all happened now from West Nile Virus in North America to huge floods and monster tornados) one thing stood out as a big surprise that I found on the government run Canadian and UK websites: Increased UVB rays have been linked to an increase in AUTO IMMUNE DISEASES!

So I ask those in the sciences to think outside their specialty, and look at environmental factors for why certain diseases like diabetes and Autism are happening. It is my intuition (strong intuition) that we’ll find the rise in Diabetes isn’t just from gaining extra pounds (especially type 1) but is some sort of DNA breakdown caused by overexposure to UVB rays.

I’ve always felt intuitively Autism was caused by environmental toxins, not the shots given to kids, but Mercury in the environment due to the way we manufacture coal for use in electricity. I think it attacks boys more often than girls because boys are actually (and this is scientifically true not a diss) the weaker sex (in terms of the way they are put together chromosomaly).

Food for thought and discussion, perhaps a nudge to someone out there able to use it.

Many blessings to all,

Denise

Global Warming, Diabetes, UVA & UVB Rays, the Tiny Ice Age

United Kingdom…

Oye Vey! More of the same! With so many planets on the angles and cardinal transiting Pluto has already started doing a number on them and will continue as it squares the part of fortune and the nodes, conjuncts the natal Sun in the 4th house and eventually opposes the natal moon in the 10th. This could leave the UK open to attacks on their soil, violent and potentially nuclear starting as early as 2011 and not ending until 2019. Off and on the UK will be in serious danger of violence targeted at them. As we get closer I will hone in on the warnings but the government of the UK should be aware that there are probably already plans being laid to do major damage in London or other major cities. Of course nothing is for sure and if they are diligent and relentless in their pursuit of terrorism and careful to stay out of major world conflicts they can mollify this, even avert serious disaster. I say t his because there are some positive aspects like a trine to Mars in the 8th which could mean that through listening to their people deep undercover they have a good chance to stop a terrorist attack that would make 9-11 seem like a boat accident.

In the next few years we will be seeing major changes, serious conflicts and intense radical transformation. At best it could bring about saving the world from global warming and cause some financial problems for the world as we adapt to a new system of living. At worst it could mean annihilation of a great number of people, major war, famine, ecological disaster and death on a massive scale. Let’s choose the first course rather than the second. We still have the power to steer this ship in the right direction. I believe my dream of Israel was a warning of an impending 3rd WW if we keep on this course, but we always have the power to change our direction. This is a call to action. Get involved in global warming, in fair trade issues, in treating all with equality. Let’s go into the Aquarian age willingly rather than being forced through massive extinction.

Many blessings,

Denise

United Kingdom…

An Open Letter to President Barack Obama

Dear Mr. President:

Most of us wept with joy when you took the oath of office. It was an amazingly moving day, one we won’t forget. Not because you are the first African American president, although that’s a beautiful thing to see, but because you represented the hope of getting our country back.

You see, we don’t want to be an imperialist nation acting as dictators to other cultures. We want all people to get the chance to choose whatever form of government they want, even if its something we don’t understand or agree with. But most of all, we want the tyranny of multinational corporations to end. We want them to stop the exploitation of the earth, her resources and people for the sake of a few CEOs and shareholders can get ridiculously wealthy.

In you we saw our idealism reflected. A hope that we could get out of the mess the Bush administration had tied us in and we could do it with dignity, reclaiming our democracy in the process, and righting the wrongs which had been foisted upon us over the last thirty or so years.

Many of us did things we never believed possible of ourselves to get you elected. I have friends who went to different states and campaigned for you. I myself started a blog partially to inspire people to the call of change you sang out.

I know it’s only been a few months since you’ve taken office and you have done many remarkable things except the one we are all desperate for you to do; change the flow of the river of our democracy. The change you talked about, the change we envisioned along side you. Instead of the trickle up (disguised as the trickle down theory) of economics which has engrossed our land with unabashed greed, relentless ruthlessness and complicacy in the depravity of other countries who take full advantage of their people to the point that even Dickens would shudder at how dark the human soul could blacken in the search for the dollar. And which has drug us into a pit of debt and dependency on governments we should be more than weary of yet like a beaten down prostitute we get back on the street corner and do business with the same John who almost killed us last time in the name of a few bucks.

Perhaps it is a myth that we were once a nation better than this; a nation where the bottom line, bottom dollar and corporate robber barons were not looked upon with tender compassion but reviled for the filthy, money grubbing thieves they were. Where the people had pride in their work, were paid a fair wage, and we expected our corporations to abide by common laws of decent behavior.

That era has certainly died a slow painful death since the Reagan administration. We are now a nation of debtors who make nothing but intellectual property and export only culture to the world. A lot of good that would do us in a war! We are like the slacker kid who has been spoiled by his parents showering him with expensive gifts and when he comes of age to go to college there is nothing left for him to better himself because his parents had no foresight, only to please him in the moment so he would not complain.

Let us complain!

Don’t be afraid of critics or the idiot talking heads on the right. The only thing you have to be afraid of is leaving this planet in peril for your children, letting America fall the way of a Banana Republic, allowing each succeeding generation to do worse than their parents (which has already begun) and allowing corporations to continue their exploitation.

I am an American and in earnest I ask of you this question; if I can’t move to Europe, work and live as I please then how come an American corporation can set up here and export all its jobs? How can, in essence, a corporation not be restrained by the same laws of the land that govern me? If our country will allow people to manufacture wherever they want then I want to move to France and work there. It seems only fair. Why should I pay taxes when corporations find loopholes and get welfare? Why should I, or any of my fellow Americans, labor in their cubicles, solving problems so our jobs can be sent to a country that’s pay scale verges on slavery?

We can all lie to ourselves and say that these companies are helping to develop these countries, but the truth is these people work for nothing. They live in abject poverty and only a few people develop a fat wallet, those who skim the most off the top by exploiting them. This is more than absurd it is disgusting, an abomination – a moral outrage.

I beg of you to pull the plug and make some real laws that constrict these corporations to realistic growth and to realistic profits that include bringing back jobs or risk being taxed to the point where they can’t make a profit by exploiting foreign people. And for those countries that we do want to help develop, lets do so by opening divisions that service only their part of the world, allowing them to have jobs and grow their economies, pay them a fair wage for their work there and let their middle class bloom as ours did when we used this model. The model of making things here in America, by Americans and paying them a living wage.

If we don’t do this we will be a fallen empire and you the last elected president before a series of revolutions. I know some are worried about deflation with the Chinese and other developing countries who have lent us lots of dough, wanting to change the standard of currency. Some are saying our country will be like the Weimar Republic. I think it will be more akin to what happened in the Soviet Union after their fall. A world run by black market hoodlums, were crime is so out of control there won’t be enough police to find all the cracks, thieves, slave traders and pimps.

Please realize that you have a mandate. We voted for change. Change away. Change so big we can’t even imagine it! Be the Shiva of a new world order and destroy all the idiocy that has been built up in Washington so we may remake ourselves in our ideal image. If you don’t we have a million times more to loose than if you find the strength to take these horrors head on and fight them.

I don’t envy you. Your job is extreme, difficult, perhaps verging on impossible. But we all believe in you. We know better than you know yourself, that you can do it if you choose to fight for us and your children.

And I am begging you to please fight for us, our planet, our children and life itself. We are at a cross roads on this planet. I’m sure you know this better than most. Your job is vitally important to solving this and reviving the world from her current heart attack.

Peace and kind wishes,

Denise Siegel

An Open Letter to President Barack Obama