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Awards
  
 Edition 14 * August 9, 2001 
Site News  Chapter Two
Morning came as it had for eons, but no longer did it bring the sunshine and expectation we were all so accustomed to. The morning brought with it a dread of its own. Who will be found today? Who won't? Shane awoke to Abby's anticipating face. Unable to speak or move without extreme pain she simply smiled at Abby, having known they would see eachother again.
Jen started out early to look for Beth. Abby kept her promise and began organizing a search and rescue team, not only for Beth, but for anyone who might be trapped or lost amongst what used to be. Abby reasoned that it was better to join forces rather than to have individuals doing the impossible on their own.
Abby left Shane in the care of 2 old women at the hospital who promised to take extra special care of her. And with that she was off with the others to help where she could.
***
After 3 days of digging and moving everything from bricks to pillars, 100s of survivors emerged while 1000s did not and never would. The sadness was overwhelming. Families and lovers grieving the unthinkable. The losses hung heavy, even in the air which seemed to take on a life of its own. Or perhaps, a deathness. But, still no sign of Beth. Jen was now at a loss as she feared she would never see her lover and partner of 14 years again. She took to staying at Shane's side whenever Abby was not near to do so. About the only thing that was clear to Jen now was that she was alone and Shane and Abby were all she seemed to have left in the world of any familiarity. In her quiet way she grieved and bestowed all of the love she had inside for Beth upon Shane and helping her to recover. Abby was so busy with the rescue efforts that she was grateful for Jen's help with Shane and vowed to herself that she would not let Jen wander off on her own. It was important now that they stay together.
Slowly, people came in and out of the hospital arena. Some hurt badly, but survived in spite of the poor conditions and lack of staff and supplies. Eventually, others from the club also found their way to the make-shift hospital which by now was housing many victims and also acquired a few more doctors and nurses from neighboring areas who wandered into town. Slowly, these women began to gather together. Helping eachother to find food, shelter and warmth. They were a small lesbian community that had somehow managed to unite when most needed. Most had lost or could not find their families. Some lost their partners. Others their children. But their numbers were growing and they were becoming a visible and even welcomed force.
Together, they were able to gather what they needed and to help provide for others who also needed help. On the outskirts of town they decided to set up camp in an old stone building that managed to survive. Like them, it was determined. So they named her Stone Henge.
Once the women did all they could to furnish and equip the house, they moved Shane and some of the others, who had been confined to the hospital, to Stone Henge.
Jen continued to care for Shane as well as some of the others. Her silence rarely broken by a hushed word or two. Her heart so torn, the words just could not escape. Abby never left Shane's side but to help with the rescue efforts each day. Then she would return to relieve Jen and nurse her sweet lover.
They went on like this for weeks. The hospital grew beyond its walls. Fewer were surviving and people were barely kept alive with what little could be found to eat or drink. Soon Shane was up and about, frustrated by her infirmity and began getting her voice back. Her first words to Abby were "I am so proud of you. Without you we wouldn't be here. That's supposed to be my job."
With that thought in mind, Shane began her recovery with a vengeance. She insisted on aiding the rescue team in lifting and hauling rubble from one site to another. While there was noone left to rescue, the team took it upon themselves to become the clean up crew. Any survivor who could still walk and use their hands was recruited. Men, women and children. Abby and Shane both knew, that if they were to survive as a whole it would mean getting everyone they could to join in the effort.
The act of doing something constructive in the confines of such disaster was the best thing for everyone. The band of women from the Stone Henge took it upon themselves to manage, direct and organise the work. The leadership came naturally to them, as did the respect they gained from the towns people who had come to rely so heavily on them. And those who did not need to rely on them, found themselves compelled to join in their efforts. Rebuilding a community, regardless of whether there was a world left beyond the city limits or not was priority.
***
To be continued in next month's issue. This story shall unfold month after month, chapter by chapter. There is no telling where this story may go. Neither the editor nor the writer knows what will come next. But you have to agree, this is certainly a first in publication history as this story is written before our very eyes. This could turn out to be the hoakiest story ever written or a future classic! If you would like to be the next brave writer to give this idea a shot, please let us know. And, yes, you may submit your works to be published anonymously. However, the editor must know your true identity for copywrite purposes. 
This begins a series on the subject of worry and anxiety.
In western industrialized countries 30% to 40% of the population are worried
enough to benefit from some form of intervention. 1 in 4 people will have some
kind of anxiety disorder in the course of their life times.
Worry is a species of fear. It is what the mind does to signals of fear based on
memory and anticipation using the imagination. Worry is what the imagination
basically does to fear. Worry is a dis-ease of the imagination. There is also a
biological component. One's brain may have a level of physiological arousal
that is set too high. The brains alarm system in response to fear goes off too
easily, too often, and is too amplified. The combination of biology and
imagination interact in the manifestation of chronic worry. What kind of a
brain you have, temperament and predisposition are factors in states of worry
and anxiety.
To be human is to feel anxious. As self-aware beings we are aware of the
unknown future. We are aware that we are imperfect, makes mistakes and that
unfortunate outcomes can occur. The human mind is creative. Human beings
have thought "what if" since antiquity. With that intrinsic ability has come
invention and the advancement of technology. In chronic/toxic worry the
individual's imagination is spinning "what if, possibility thoughts". There is
always positive and negative possibility. Possibility is not a predictor of
probability. For the chronic worrier the negative possibilities are ruminated
about and probabilities are anticipated, sometimes even predicted when there is
no evidence to support such an assumption.
There is good worry and toxic worry.
Good worry: leads to constructive action to prevent a negative outcome. It
informs you, protecting you, warning you. Concern is a form of good worry.
Toxic worry: Instead of taking corrective action the person freezes up and shuts
down or behaves impulsively. They may take reckless action ruminating and
pity potting on and on. One may engage in subjective projection of the fear
outcomes and that keeps the person stuck. It is a form of self inflicted misery. It
feels unpleasant and is bad for you physically. Some consequences of prolonged
toxic worry are: High blood pressure, cardio problems, stroke, cancer
(depresses the immune function), digestive problems, muscle aches and pains,
low back pain, skin problems, trouble breathing, asthmatic problems, sexual
performance problems, allergies can get worse, neurological migraines and
nonspecific headache syndrome (due to tension in the head area).
A basic equation for worry:
A heightened sense of vulnerability coupled with a diminished sense of power
and control will generate worry. In lowering toxic worry the task is to address
the variables of vulnerability and power/control. Decrease vulnerability and
increase power/control.
Being passive in managing worry will leave you vulnerable to being ambushed.
You are not a victim.
Here are some tips on the management of ordinary ongoing worry without
using medication. If your symptoms persist you should consult your physician.
1.Separate out toxic worry from good worry. Good worry amounts to planning. You need to plan. If you have a concern and are not addressing it you will worry. Address it. 2.Get the facts. Base worry on reality not a terrifying fantasy your imagination has concocted. 3.Analyze the problem and take corrective action. Non-worriers do this all the time. Get a friend or partner to help you plan concrete corrective action you can take to reduce your worry about something. This is better because when alone you might get too anxious and quit. 4.Attack your worry; don't let it attack you. In baseball they call it "play the ground ball, don't let the ground ball play you." 5.Ask for advice. 6.Get reassurance. Have a network of people whom you can depend on to give you reassurance. Don't ask for reassurance from someone you know won't give it. We have been falsely taught to avoid asking for reassurance thinking it weak or immature. Nothing could be further from the truth. 7.Learn how to talk to yourself in a calming, reassuring way. Watch for what we therapist's call "automatic thoughts", the thoughts that pop into your head as you're dealing with a problem. If they tend to be negative and self-doubtful. When in doubt try giving yourself the benefit of the doubt. Focus self-talk on your efforts and improvements, strengths and assets. Give yourself the kind of moral support you would a dear and cherished friend. Next issue I will provide more tips with a special focus on brain maintenance.
This columns focus is psychological and emotional health/well being. Individual, couple, family and community concerns will be addressed here. I am a licensed lesbian feminist therapist. I am writing this column under an assumed nickname for your comfort and mine. The information and suggestions provided here should not be taken as a substitute for in person therapy with a trained clinician in your area. I offer here my perspective, knowledge, and experience to be taken, accepted or rejected as is.
I would like readers to submit topics of interest and questions you would like me to answer in the column. All questions will be answered with the author's identity withheld unless you specify otherwise. Confidentiality will be respected. Please send your comments, suggestions, and questions to me at shrinkonbarbie@yahoo.com
From the early Pennsylvania Dutch Settlers came some of the most wonderful recipes which have been handed down generation after generation. Should you ever hear the words 'Koom essa', hurry home, because that is the call to a festive PA Dutch meal.
POTATO FILLING:
POTATO SALAD DRESSING: 
PLAGUES AND PEOPLES is a sweeping historiography detailing how disease and epidemics have shaped
changes in humankind culturally, socially, politically, militarily and psychologically since before this
millenium. This is a massive undertaking and one that William H. McNeil successfully accomplishes.
It would be difficult to effect the desired outcome, (an understanding of how pestilence has helped create
the face of human history), without the scope of information included in this book. At the same time, this
global exploration makes it difficult for the reader to remain focused on the direct goal of the research.
Another problem, is the way in Which McNeil jumps back and forth between centuries and decades. He
does however, reinforce the information on historical epidimiology with excellent biological explanations of
the processes involved in a multiplicity of infectious diseases. This affords the reader a deeper knowledge
base for understanding the impact of infectious deseases on humanity and the unmistakable devastation
that epidemics wreak on society. And although the book travel across vast geography, McNeil weaves a
world that can be seen and felt.
PLAGUES AND PEOPLES creates exciting new possibilities for how distinct cultures of the world have
come to be, disappear and win and lose wars. I often wondered how great civilizations such as the Aztecs
and the Incas were conquered and then disappeared. The epidemiological paradim shifts the concentration
from military might on the part of the Spaniards to a diseased and weakened people unable to respond
adequately to a military onslaught. "In other words, when invading virgin populations, these are the
infections capable of destroying or crippling entire human communities, in the way that smallpox and a
succession of other diseases did to Aztec and Inca Civilizations"(12) This applies to the Amerindians as
well. The Europeans came to the New World with parasites, bacteria and viruses the Amerindians had
never been exposed to. Whatever numbers survived from any of these cultures were easy prey for the
missionaries that followed. They were sick and dying and their invaders were not. They could only believe
that their conquerors' god was more powerful and better than theirs. Between disease and deity their
societies crumbled.
On pages 223-224, McNeil tells us that a pair of Greek doctors while in Turkey, authored a pair of
pamphlets discussing inoculation for smallpox and that "According to their report, it was generally believed
in Constantinople that the practice of inoculation had long been familiar among Greek peasant womyn of
the Morea and Thessaly". It doesn't surprise me that this is the only reference to womyn and science in
this volume. Even though womyn have long been the nurturers and healers in their families and
communities, their knowledge and expertise has been historically relegated to the nonscientific world of
"folkways" and devalued. In FEMINISM AND SCIENCE, (Tuana, Ed., 1989), Sue V. Rosser in her essay,
"Feminist Scholarship in the Sciences: Where Are We Now and When Can We Expect a Theoretical
Breakthrough?" informs us that "Although we sometimes labor under the false impression that women have
only become scientists in the latter half ot the 20th century, early works by Christine de Pizan ([1405]
1982), Giovanni Boccaccio ([1355 - 59] 1963), and H. J. Mozans ([1913] 1974) recorded past achievements
of women in science." Perhaps more thorough research would have enabled Mr. McNeil to cite the name(s)
of the womon or womyn responsible for early research in the field of immunization. Allopathic medicine has
historically been the domain of men. I can only speculate that if womyn and science had been taken more
seriously and allowed into the ranks, their contributions to epidemiology may have prevented the spread of
infection by pestilence earlier in history.
As my thoughts turn towards the future, I realize that humanity's ecological relationship with pestilence is
a precarious one. I don't believe that humankind can be secure that any disease has been eradicated from
the world or from the United States permanently. And as we see with the AIDS virus, new pandemics lurk in
the corners. Scientific research, mutations, changing ecosystems and humankind's impact on
environmental stasis all challenge the fragile balance we call health.
 For people who can't think for themselves... Just... Ask... Jacki
Ok, so what is it about "send in
questions" that you don't understand? What kind of column do you think I can write if you think you
already know everything? Ha! That'll be the day! Ok, ok, I accept that there just might be a slight
possibility that five trillion people have actually gotten through the past two months with absolutely no
trauma whatsoever which requires a bit of advice from the world's best know-it-all. So, I'm going to let
you off this time. Afterall, I took two months off from having to solve all your problems, so I suppose
you can take one month off from having any. But don't make a habit of this, alright? I'll be forced to find
another job. Maybe one that actually pays. Say, I could write a novel. That might be fun. It would be a
best seller (of course). I would become flthy stinking rich overnight. I would win a Pulitzer prize for
literature. My picture would be put on a stamp. I would be invited to all the bookstores coast to coast
for book signings. Children would stop me in the street just for the chance to catch one of my rare, but
dazzling smiles. I would have to move to a deserted cabin in the mountains of Montana with a golden
retriever or a Labrador or a German shepherd. I would raise chickens, watch the sun rise, chop wood,
get water from a well, repair my own roof. I would become totally eccentric. I'd take up painting.
Gees, you could just send in a few questions and my life would be so much simpler. So...if you won't
send in questions, I'll just answer some you probably never thought of asking, but certainly should have.
"Just...Ask Jacki", the advise column for people who don't even know the questions, much less the
answers. Catchy, yeah, but soooo inane. Oh, forget the questions. Here's a few things to help you get
through life....(write these down) Salad can be a finger food. Oh yes, it can! Actually, anything can be a
finger food, even soup. Who invented silverware, anyway? Oh yeah....Rogers Bros. Well, listen, it was
just a hairbrained, get rich quick scheme that they dreamt up one night while hanging out at a clambake
somewhere on the coast of Rhode Island. And it certainly worked, didn't it? Everybody fell for it.
Except for kids. They fight it as long as they can. Well, just forget it, ok? Eat with your hands. Pick up
those pieces of lettuce and just dip them into the dressing, which you ordered "on the side" pretending
that would keep you from eating all of it. Stick those black olives on the ends of each finger and wave
at people or put on a short puppet show and then pop them into your mouth one at a time while reciting
"eenie, meenie, minee, mo." Soup....shoot, pick up the bowl, slurp out the liquid and then shovel those
little wee teeny vegies up with your fingers. Just use two fingers and pretend you're Oriental if it pleases
you. And forget cutting up your meat. Just pick up that T-Bone by the, uh, well, by the T and gnaw
away. And listen, while we're on the subject of knives, who invented those little miniature harpoons that
people use sitting around a bowl of hot oil, which is sitting over an open flame? Is this starting to sound
dangerous to you? Not a good combination in my book. And, listen again. Have you ever been
privileged to see what happens when someone runs one of those little harpoons through the fleshy part
of their hand? Yes, yes, I know this is a gross picture I'm painting here, but it's important that you fully
understand the seriousness of this. And remember, that little harpoon has been, well, harpooning little
bits of raw meat most likely....now THAT'S a good thing, no? Well, I have been a witness to one of
these dinnertable stabbings and let me tell you, it's not a pretty picture. Not a pretty picture at all. And,
just because I couldn't stand the thought of rushing this person off to the hospital with a little harpoon
still sticking out of her hand, flicking droplets of blood everwhere, I got stuck behind....no, no....I mean
I got left behind...to clean up the mess...like there was no blood left behind! Well, I'll tell you, between
having to sit down every five seconds with a wet wash rag on the back of my neck and my head
between my knees, I thought, I'd never get the place cleaned up. Forget fondue. It's stupid. It's
dangerous. And while we're at it....who made the silly rule about no elbows on the table? Now does
that make even the slightest bit of sense? How are you supposed to keep your balance with your hand
in your lap? And, anyway, don't you think it's a little distracting? (think about it) Well, now....one thing
you must remember,...I know I'm making life a lot easier for you at the dinner table, but, and I mean
this...DO NOT SHOW YOUR FOOD! I know you've seen that happen. I know you probably gave in
and participated in that vile display of gross behavior, too. It's just too tempting, especially when there
are kids around, but just DON'T DO IT! Wait, are there actually some of you who don't know what
I'm talking about? I cannot believe that, but, oh well, life is odd, isn't it? Showing your food...that's
when a bunch of kids or lunatic adults sit around the table, chew whatever is in their mouths to the point
of practically digesting it fully before it goes down their throats and then for some reason I cannot
fathom, drop their mouths open, stick out their tongues and grin....yes, all at the same time...inviting
everyone else at the table to squirm, go ewwwwwwww, leave screaming, barf, whatever each
nonparticipant's own particular response to this disgusting display might be. For gosh sakes, people, no
one wants to see you masticate in public. Don't look so shocked. Look it up. Ok, I'm running out of
food advise. Let's see. Food. Food. (yes, it DOES help to repeat the subject over and over a few
times, so quit rolling your eyes...I'll just keep doing it) Food. Food. See? Oh yeah! Here's something
important: Never put catsup on eggs. Or is it ketchup? Who cares? Just don't do it. It looks disgusting
and I will leave the table. If you MUST have a tomato product with your eggs, well, for goodness
sakes, prop a tomato on the plate next to your eggs. Alternate. bite of egg, bite of tomato, bite of egg,
bite of tomato. Simple. And it doesn't look like some sort of disgusting, gloppy mess on the plate that
can turn the stomach of whoever has the unfortunate privilege of eating across the table from you.
Do
you know why men open doors for women? Yes, some of them still do. But they haven't any idea why.
You don't really think that men believe women to be incapable of opening a door, do you? Well, ok,
maybe. A few guys I've known actually might believe that. But then, they didn't open the door, either.
Go figure. Nothing makes sense. Anyway, many, many years ago, when the world was young...don't
you think that's a wonderful opening sentence?....well, I do...and it's my column. So, as I was
saying....many, many years ago, when the world was young (yes, it DOES bear repeating). Oh, pooh,
what was I saying? Hmmmm. Something about doors. Well, I don't think there were any doors when
the world was in its infancy. (say, that's nicely worded, too, don't you think?) Well, this is certainly
beginning to lose its urgency here. Let's see. I believe I was going to comment on the inborn cowardice
of the male human being. Yes, that was it. See, this is how it is, I mean was, oh well, still is....women,
being thought of as totally expendable in the big picture....after having babies, scrubbing floors, doing
laundry, cooking (see....it IS about food), walking the dog, etc.,,,,(expendable, my, um, foot), are
always shoved through the cave door first just in case a mountain lion or some such thing has taken up
residence during the "king's" absence. Brave little man, don't you think? So, should you ever be in the
spot where some man grins at you and politely (?) holds a door open for you, just grab him by the
shoulders, spin him around and shove him through the door (whether it's open or not, matters not to
me) and holler, "Get your a** in there, dumbo. YOU get eaten by a lion!." Don't expect a second date,
though. Well, that's it. Just as a parting thought....Don't walk outside barefoot. You'll get worms. My
mom said so.
See you next month. See? I told you that you should have sent in some questions, didn't
I? Remember, darlings....without you, I go off the deep end. Without me....the office would be closed
today.
Philadelphia International Gay & Lesbian Film
Festival (July 13-24 '01)
North Carolina Gay & Lesbian Film Festival (August 10-13 '00)
Vancouver Queer Film & Video Festival (August
9-19 '01)
Chicago Underground Film Festival (August 17-23
'01)
Austin Gay & Lesbian International Film Festival
(August 24-September 6 '01)
For Us
rushing to the shore
then pulling back
floating farther away
we are called back to face ourselves
Love, excitement, joy
no, that which is real
People are not so durable
as we grow in knowing each other
can it water us
Resolution,
the buds
white petals
wrapped close
and the red
reaching out
allowing also
loves' spectrum
its prism
exposed edges 
Government Cheese
The clouds are closing in…
Yeah that is me!
What would you say
You would not look at me
We are all here because we aren't dead yet
I would bet my heart is bigger than yours,
Copyright ©2000 Krystalyn Bair
Exploring the Arts (Tribute to Tanja)
Little ants trapped in a life-long maze
We were painters
Or was that all just me?
You were my Angel
Intended to plant seeds of love
Outside of Eden
Butterflies no longer dancing
No longer a painter
O God, deliver me
Never wanted to be a writer
Life is a stage And we're all just actors
Copyright Jessica Feiereisen 2001
Barren Sea
Lambent as the stars and deep as the ocean
My heart exalting in wild commotion
Lured on tides of exhileration
Waves of Love transfiguring by their every elevation
Into which souls fade, hearts immerge
Celestial bodies our nocturnal redeemers
Their light the compass of our amorous fevers
With our love to shell the golden sands
In search of waters shimmering in emerald hue
A reflection of your beautiful eyes in radiant blue
The truth by seagulls langorously hissed
Through salt of sea and tears
Crystallise upon my face all fathom fears
Affections in hidden want of profundity
A fault entailing sad disgrace
Your love for me languished into lusterless haze
Copyright Jessica Feiereisen 2001
TAKE ME
YOU ARE THE FIRE IN MY HEART
TAKE ME WITH YOU AS YOU PEDDLE YOUR SOUL
LET THE WINDS OF CHANGE AND CHANCE WISP THROUGH
Benefits of Friendship
Till the world touches the sun let no one stand in my way of love, life
As I sit here thinking of her all sorts of laminations are taking place
Proclivity is the way my soul and heart bend to and fro in the winds of
Obsequiously I lavish the thoughts of profound lovemaking and long
Sitting looking west amazed at the occident of the sun my soul feels
Wearing her love as an amulet of longing I must wait patiently for the
Respecting the demands of her heart I sit at the vertex of life looking
This is for my processing of a love who, wants not to endure my being. |
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Copyright © 2000. All Rights Reserved
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