A Thanksgiving Prayer

Thanksgiving Prayer by William S. Burroughs

Thanks for the wild turkey and the passenger pigeons,
destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts.

Thanks for a continent to despoil and poison.

Thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger.

Thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin leaving the carcasses to rot.

Thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes.

Thanks for the American dream,
To vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through.

Thanks for the KKK.
For nigger-killin' lawmen, feelin' their notches.

For decent church-goin' women,
with their mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces.

Thanks for "Kill a Queer for Christ" stickers.

Thanks for laboratory AIDS.

Thanks for Prohibition and the war against drugs.

Thanks for a country where nobody's allowed to mind their own business.

Thanks for a nation of finks.

Yes, thanks for all the memories-- all right let's see your arms!
You always were a headache and you always were a bore.

Thanks for the last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams.
http://www.inter-zone.org/thanks.html

From The Security of our Caves

by Lydia Daffenberg

I've been living out of apartments now for about six years. I've moved several times within those years and, although each neighborhood may have a bit of a different vibe, there is one quality of apartment-living that doesn't change: knowing one's neighbors. Well, more to my point, NOT knowing one's neighbors.

My apartment-dwelling lifestyle has made me realize how our apartments (and homes for that matter, just because one owns more space doesn't change this) are still our caves. We haven't evolved as much as we think we have. Sure, we have central heating, maybe even central air. But, our apartments are still our little caves which we decorate and pretend are not attached to anyone else. We park in the universal parking lot, dart into the building attempting to avoid one another, and duck into our warm, little alcove of walls that are still not thick enough to completely keep out each others' sounds. But, we try to pretend it's just us. It's our home, our building, our space, our cave. Decorations personalize this space and add to the illusion that we're away from the rest of the world. Our stuff comforts us; separates us. But just outside our doors lurk other doors in the hallway. Existing within a few feet. Doors to who-knows-what.

Most apartment dwellers don't even know their neighbors' names. And we prefer it this way. After all, in this survivalist world, who has time for others? Especially NEW others in our lives? But wait! That's how we survived as a species; by working together, communicating. Hunting together, fighting together, eating together, evolving together--back in the survivalist world. So I've begun my own mission; my own experiment. I began saying hi to my neighbors and smiling. Now I don't dart in, I stroll. I want to see one of them. I want to arrest their senses of what neighbors are and how we are to act. I want them to notice that I notice them. Sometimes, I'll even ask how they're doing. Some of them dodge me even more, now. But some actually slow down and smile back. And in that moment, there's something there. An acknowledgement of humanity. And that is something.

A Blog a Day?

by Lydia Daffenberg

Why Brewed Nature for the title of my blog? Many reasons, and some I'm still making up. First, nature is brewed, so to speak. Nature takes time, steeps in nutrients and brews into delicious sights, sounds, textures and smells. Second, to blog is to brew; stew in one's thoughts, then share one's finished cup of creation. Third, which is attached to my second point, I have this nature to brew, stew and think. Hence, Brewed Nature. So, it is high time I share my ramblings with other ramblin' folk. Welcome. Now, the only problem, what to blog about . . .