Ashley Judd's slam poetry speech at yesterday's Women's March is everything good about our country.

Courtesy of Raw Story:

Interrupting a speech being given by activist Michael Moore, Judd explained,”I bring you words from Nina Donovan,” a 19-year-old poet from Tennessee. 

The actress then belted out Donovan’s slam poetry, beginning with, “I am a nasty woman. Not as nasty as a man who looks like he bathes in Cheeto dust, a man whose words are a dis to America, Electoral College-sanctioned hate speech.” 

“I feel Hitler in these streets, Nazis renamed,” Judd continued, before turning to Trump’s disturbing comments about his daughter Ivanka. 

“I’m not as nasty as your daughter being your favorite sex symbol,” she exclaimed. “Our p*ssies ain’t for grabbing. This p*ssy is for my pleasure and giving birth to more nasty woman,” the poem concludes.

I was absolutely floored by the passion that I witnessed yesterday emanating from the women, and men, who participated in those protests.

But damn, Ashley Judd looked like she ate lightning and crapped thunder during her speech.

THAT is what we need so much more of.

THAT is how we take back our country.

THAT is how we speak truth to power.

And THAT is how we survive the Trump presidency.

Jon Stewart DESTROYS Bill O'Reilly in debate over White House poet controversy.

Part One.



Part Two.



Is it possible that O'Reilly thinks he won this debate?

Cause he didn't!

HAPPY NEW YEAR! WELCOME 2010!

Holy crap what a year that was!

We had terrorists, teabaggers, and Tiger tales, oh my!

Those of us on the left have been called fascists, socialists, and apologists by the conservative fringe, which is now much less "fringy" and a far more a mainstream part of the right. We have seen racism, once relegated to whispers behind our nation's back, brought out of the shadows and displayed, often proudly, for all of America to see.

We have seen a President who gets very little slack from his detractors nor his often just as critical supporters, but who continues to forge ahead making powerful changes as if he actually takes his job seriously.

We have seen a woman who destroyed a campaign, quit her day job, and had a ghostwriter create her book of lies, talked about in the same breath as the most powerful man in our country simply because the opposition has nobody left to lead.

2009 brought us hope, followed by stark reality, and then the reminder that salvation does not come without sacrifice.

On a personal note in 2009 I was outed, banned, loved, and elevated from pajama clad blogger to investigative journalist, news maker, and, occasionally, the "Perez Hilton of Alaska". Talk about your dubious honor.

As I look forward I see nothing but possibilities. There are truths yet to be told, and battles in search of warriors, so I guess I know in which direction my destiny lies.

I will continue to do what I think is right, and take on all comers, even if to do so I must stand alone. But as we know I am never alone. For I have you, and you my friends give me strength beyond measure.

And all of this reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost, the last stanza of which I will use to close out this post.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Welcome to 2010, my friends.

Namaste

I am too distracted by the news to post anything much today. Here is a poem I once wrote that expresses how I feel.

The Words


I believe that words are a treasure gently mined with special tools.
And if carefully weaved together can make kings out of simple fools.

For in the hands of an artist they have the power to shape our fate.
But I must question whether I can do this, for the hour is growing late.

I have spent a lifetime struggling to write what I feel inside.
Yet every time that I am close, again I am denied.

So everyday I search for the words to ease my troubled heart.
Words to heal the wounds of a world that’s been viciously torn apart.

Words to make a war scarred warrior lay his sword upon the ground.
Words that bring smiles to a child, and chase away her frown.

Words that would convince a coward to finally face his fears.
Or to make a hate filled person’s eyes suddenly fill with tears.

Words with the power to dissipate hate and allow love to take its place.
Words to help a prejudice man see people and not their race.

Words to let a broken heart know that love is not far away.
And that every love is a precious love, even those that do not stay.

So I may be but a simple poet without the skill to attain my prize.
But the only one who is certain to fail is the one who never tries.

Gryphen