Tag: evil

France

On By dancingpalmtreesIn 9/11, African American Queen, African Goddess, Bangladesh, Bigotry, Buddhism, Buddhist, Christianity, Edward Palmer, Eva Gordon Palmer, Evil, France, French, French National Anthem - "La Marseillaise" (FR/EN), Gay, Gladys Young, Goddess, hatred, Hattie Banks, Helen Garcia, Helen James, Hindu, Homosexual, India, Iran, Islam, Jesus, Jewish, Judism, Love, Love Train [Original 12" Version] - The O'Jays (1972), Muslim, Paris, Racism, Terrorism, William Henry Halstead, William Palmer, Winston Churchill - We Shall Never Surrender (Full Speech)3 Comments

This is a very long two part post.

French National Anthem – “La Marseillaise” (FR/EN)

My blogging buddy K.B. who lives in Paris is safe, alive and well. He is grateful to all Americans for their prayers, encouragement and support.

I totally disagree with the hate towards France being spewed on Facebook!! Yes we all know that France was a Colonizer back in the 18th and 19th Centuries but the people alive today, the people maimed and killed in those horrible attacks have nothing to do with with what happened centuries ago. Yes we do need to learn and heed the lessons of the past. Colonialism and Slavery must continue to be taught in schools so we recognize wickedness and choose another path. On that note yesterday I left a group that I thought was about the positive because of the evil statements made against France. People who return hate for hate are little better than the oppressors.

Winston Churchill – We Shall Never Surrender (Full Speech)

https://youtu.be/CyoMp2JceOw

Governments often make problems that make others suffer. My parents, grandparents and great grandparents went through racism and Jim Crow but they did not hate this nation, their country. As a Black woman I experience bias, racism and bigotry often but that does not give me the right to lump all white people in the same pot as an excuse to hate and spew venom. As a Christian I represent Jesus Christ so I can never do this. My spirit and soul do not allow me.

Love Train [Original 12″ Version] – The O’Jays (1972)

https://youtu.be/iTp0AlTuPNA

Many of those murdered in France and on the Russian airplane blast were innocent children. Hatred solves nothing. We cannot go back and change the past. Also keep in mind on 9/11 many French, European and other nations supported New Yorkers and Americans. Being Pro-Black does not give me the right to be anti-white or anti-European. Why? Because the Love of God and His compassion is in my heart. Most people of color have experienced bias and bigotry in some form but I refuse to deny aid, support or prayer to those in need. I pray for everyone. I’m still praying for the innocent Russian people killed in that airplane explosion. Hate is divisive. Please do not use this tragedy as an excuse to incite or fan the flames of hatred. I wholeheartedly and unashamedly support and stand with the people of France and victims of terrorism worldwide! Show Love to all.

‪#‎France‬‪ #‎Paris ‬‪#‎OneLove‬   #America

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I Rise Above hatred, bias, bigotry & racism.

I know what it is to be treated with the wide brush of stereotypes.
Working with the general public can be a challenge and if you’re a Black Woman wearing a uniform, a uniform that designates a form of authority more challenges come your way.

My Great, Great Grandfather William Henry Halstead left his life as a Free farmer and joined the Union Army for the benefit of his enslaved sisters and brothers and for his descendants unseen and yet unknown. But maybe he did know that Stephen and I would reap the benefits of his sacrifice. My Dad Edward G. Palmer left City College and joined the Air Force to fight for an America that did not even consider him a man but duty and honor came first. Thanks to the sacrifices and Love from my ancestors my generation of Black Americans became the first generation to benefit from the Civil Rights Movement. I’m carried on the shoulders of giants.

My Mother, Grandmothers and Aunts rose above the indignities of Jim Crow.

Sadly some look at me and see only color or gender. I’ve been approached by white males thinking that I’m a drug dealer or available for sex. Obviously I had to set them straight.  They needed to be firmly re-educated.

But I’m more than race, nationality or gender. Like most people on this earth Black, Brown, or white I’m a human being of complexity. That’s why I had to speak out against vile remarks being leveled at the French people. God created people. Humans created race & divisions.

I’ve come to think that the reason God placed me in the museum was to root out my preconceptions, illusions and delusions about people of other faiths.
Over the almost 8 years I’ve worked there the Ladies and Gentlemen I’m closest to are Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu & Jewish. By being around and in close contact with co-workers outside of my faith I’ve learned a lot and mostly not to be judgmental. I’ve even visited their Houses of Worship and learned that these faiths are not so different from Christianity. If I had been born in Iran, Egypt, Bangladesh, India, I would be a practitioner of that faith. We are all people who want the same things in life.

One God. Many Paths.

Earlier this year I spent two weeks in the hospital. The reason I’ll keep private but the person who visited me and took me home is Gay. Again another lesson of acceptance. Every time I’ve prayed for help God sent someone from another race, faith, gender, or sexual orientation to assist me.

I could lower myself to the level of bigots, haters, slanderers & spew a fountain of venom and vindictiveness but I choose not to. I choose if not to Love everyone but to at least to respect all people regardless of race, religion, or sexual orientation. When I make mistakes or say the wrong thing I go back and apologize. Nobody is perfect but these errors in judgement provide me the opportunity to examine myself.

I’m sure as I make my way towards March 2018 and retirement God will have even more Life Lessons on my path towards Enlightenment.

Still Rising.

Gaslighting

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Acceptance, Angel, Battle, Broken Angels, Broken Hearts, Buddha, cacophony, DeBorah, deception, Deliverance, Delusions, Depression, despair, Domestic Violence, Evil, Expectations, Fears, Instability, Jesus, Koyaanisqatsi, Limbo, Loss, Lost Souls, Love, Malevolent, profane, Purgatory, Sacred, Scars, sorrow, soul, Stigmata, Suffering, Understanding, Vanity, Viper, War, Wasteland, Wicked, Wisdom

Ingrid Berman in Gaslight (with Charles Boyer)
Ingrid Berman in Gaslight (with Charles Boyer)

If you’ve ever had this happen to you then you know what it is to live in abject fear & terror. Gaslight – verb (used with object): to cause (a person) to doubt his or her sanity through the use of psychological manipulation.

Gaslight (1944)

http://youtu.be/0ToLfQU2xmg

The source is a George Cukor-directed thriller starring Ingrid Bergman as a woman whose husband tells her she’s imagining things that she claims to see in a musty old murder house, including the gaslights dimming by themselves.

Unless you’ve gone through this experience there is no understanding what it’s like to not know whether you’re crazy or the other person is playing you for a fool. I know how that feels. Cruelty in any form is a weapon that has the potential to destroy peoples lives. I’m just fortunate to have a Guardian Angel. This past weekend I survived an episode with a so-called professional member of the particular online business group I’d like to get into.  

A certain amount of trust is involved within our interactions with other human beings. School, the job, our House of Worships, entrepreneurial relationships all involved being able to trust the persons we hope to glean information from to build our business and who we trust to provide marketing and promotion information.  However some people in these online business groups are merely stalkers seeking to capitalize on the trusting natures and vulnerabilities of others.  Not just sad but depraved indifference to a fellow human beings feelings and emotions.  They are Social Media Vultures and/or Predators seeking unsuspecting prey.  Masters of Psychological Deception.  Tricks without the Treats. Vipers ready to strike without a moments notice.

Like anyone, I’m always looking to better myself. To this end I join groups on social media.  Having carefully researched the product you then join with like-minded individuals in order to gain strategies on how to succeed in your chosen field.  Skill building is important to ensure the success of any business venture.

So its scary stuff when even one person in the business group turns out to be a stalker who then libels and slanders you without cause all the while making you the victim think you’re at fault.  No compassion whatsoever. A total disregard for the victims emotional state.

It’s an especially cruel type of manipulation as the tormentor gains the innocent person’s trust only to betray them through psychological and emotional means. Once they gain your trust they either gradually or perhaps more aggressively twist their words so you feel like you’re losing your mind.  Ever so slightly they threaten you with police action, incarceration, jail, prison, legal actions, and many other types of evil tricks to make you believe that you’re at fault and deserve punishment. Despite their malevolent actions suddenly you become the criminal and then these sadists try you in their kangaroo court while acting as judge, jury and executioner.

A series of lies, rumors, innuendos, slander, falsehoods, cause you to doubt your ability to reason or make sense of a troubling situation.  The constant question of “What Just Happened Here?” goes through your mind until that Guardian Angel, Rescuer, Redeemer helps you gain perspective.

Then the demonic wickedness of these Master Manipulators is exposed and once again Salvation has been regained.  I was Blessed to have someone step in to help me and give me reassurance.  Also I was connected with a girlfriend who also went through domestic violence and sexual abuse scenarios like me who understand.  A calm, kind, gentle, loving voice who embraced me acceptance.  I was not alone. Somebody threw out the lifeline.  I grabbed hold and climbed out of this monstrous pit.

I am not deterred in my efforts to improve my finances.  One monkey don’t stop no show!  I see God’s Angels all around me.  I feel God’s Love. I now know that I am not at fault and I don’t have to be afraid.  Legions of Angels have been detached by God to protect me.  As for that spiteful, mean nasty person there will be both earthly and God’s Judgement now that he has been exposed.  Purgatory for this individual has only just begun.  Sanctuary for him will only be found in accepting the truth, repentance and restitution.

1 Chronicles 16:22 & Psalm 105:15

 New International Version (NIV)

22 “Do not touch my anointed ones;
    do my prophets no harm.”

The Workers Leave No Footprints

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Abuse, Acceptance, African American Queen, African Goddess, African King, Bad Breath, Battle, Black Orpheus, Body Odor, Body Snatchers, Borg, Broken Angels, cacophony, Catharsis, Craving, Creativity, DeBorah, deception, Deliverance, Delusions, Dissonance, Dreams, Ethiopian Goddess, Expectations, Explore, Fantasy, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Hallucinations, Innovation, Inquisitive, Knowledge, Koyaanisqatsi, Limbo, Loss, Lost Souls, Malevolent, Morpheus, Museum, Negritude, Night Sweats, Nirvana, Oneiroi, Optical illusions, Phantaso, profane, Purgatory, Recovery, Refuge, Rejection, Rescue, Riders on the Storm, Ritual, Sacred, Sanctuary, Scars, soul, Spears, Spider Web, Spinning, Spirit, Spirituality, Stereotypes, Stigmata, Stinky breath, Suffering, Surrealism, Taijhena Mona Lisa Ormand, Thánatos, The Twilight Zone, The Walking Dead, Under belly, Understanding, Unloved, Unwanted, Vision, Visions, War, Wasteland, Wicked, Wisdom, Woman, Zombies4 Comments

Dreams Never Die

Misty Foggy Morn

Youth said “Dreams Never Die.” Twenty years passed then Recession kicked in. New Realities were born. Twelve hour workdays became the norm.

Like a drowning man Dreams surfaced again and again only to plummet down to the watery deep. All the while knocking at 1% door watching them through one-sided window laugh, play, drink and party with no thought for the ‘Morrow’. We the unseen only imagining free time for our dreams.

Dreams that must wait until Social Security beckons if death does not reach us first. Fore bread, water, warm clothes and a place to live cry louder. Goodnight Sweet Dreams. May you one day resurrect to a New Dawn.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

The Working Poor Leave No Footprints

Surrounded by a plethora of people who seemed to surface like bloated corpses after spring thaw.  Worker bees we are all meaningless specks of dust being recklessly scattered by blustery winds.  Modern day Robber Barons throw battle weary soldiers back into the battle while they sit sipping tea in Ivory Towers.  Thirty-seven years a professional, now placating rot breath Sabbath suits long in tooth, visions of Mammy dancing in their heads.  Limestone Liver spotted wrinkled bone bags befoul the air with endless demands.  Dontcha know Miz Daisy learned to drive herself and the Help all went to the French Rivera.

Foggy Misty Morn

I am Hagar cast out of my prosperous household, denied by the Master and Mistress I once served.  Thrown out of my protectors’ house my Dream-child and I await Our Avenging Angel of Salvation.

My Dreams now dead buried under work obligations, mountains of rules and regulations that I seem to constantly violate just by being. No miracles exist for me. Only years of mindless drudgery ahead.  Millennial Overseers govern my every move with their remote control mind games.  Freedom lies dormant within my imagination.  My brain has been put out to pasture because intelligence is not needed or wanted and creativity has become a sin.  Automaton Me clad in nondescript dull uniform easily replaceable by the next set of hungry hands yearning for the pence dispensed from the rich mans table.  Hey!! Who’s next up on the Auction Block?!!  Come lock step into the Plantation Mausoleum filled with objects which are valued more than drones who guard them.  We be Aliens in our own Land.  Serfs never reaping a hard earned Harvest.

Yet soon a New Day will Dawn, Dreams will bear fruit and Visions be reborn.

My Secret Hiding Place

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Ambien, Battle, cacophony, Catharsis, Chia, Delusions, Dissonance, Dreams, Evil, Expectations, Fallen Angels, Fantasy, Fears, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Grim Reaper, Hades, Hallucinations, Hotel California, Hypnos, Insomnia, Instability, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Koyaanisqatsi, Kudzu, Lighthouse, Limbo, Lost Souls, Malevolent, Manufacturered Reality, Mark of Cain, Memory, Midnight Marauder, Monday Meme, Morpheus, Nightmares, Nirvana, Orpheus, Paradise, Phantaso, profane, Protean, Purgatory, rabbit hole, Redemption, Refuge, Rejection, Rescue, Ritual, River Styx, Sacred, Sanctuary, Scars, Shawn Bird, sorrow, soul, Spirit, Spirituality, Squatters, Stigmata, Suffering, Surrealism, Thánatos, Vision, Visions, Walking Wounded, Wicked3 Comments

My Secret Hiding Place

The Hiding Place
The Hiding Place

I couldn’t build a tree house.  Too high up and anyway I’m afraid of heights, so instead I built this little fort of sorts as a place to gather my thoughts after a hectic day.  Made my best efforts with whatever materials the forest floor offered up as building materials.  There were enough twigs and branches to construct more ground level tree houses or make my current enclosure larger but I chose to save some for kindling for warmth against the chill night air and the rest I kept stacked as a type of cord-wood not too far away.

It has become my sanctuary and safe haven I return to again and again to re-connect with Mother Earth and nature. Too small to stand upright clicking my heels together three times was not an option so I was forced to remain seated. With some degree of discomfort I could lay down in a fetal position while I imagined myself re-entering an alternate womb to be reborn into better circumstances. Mine was a tepee without the buffalo skin covering all bones and framework.

Sometimes I’d hug my knees and rhythmically rock back and forth while repeating what I thought were calming mantras, occasionally wishing that the earth would open up and swallow me whole transporting me some place free from pain, misery and cruelty. Like a shaman I chanted using my homemade rituals attempting to silence the drumbeat of squatter voices incessantly chattering inside my head versus the declarations of the Family.  They created a dissonance within the time frame continuum of my thoughts.

You see our house, if you could call that ramshackle structure; a hodgepodge mixture of stone, wood and stucco addendum and afterthoughts as different parts of the building were constructed at different times upon the whims the directors and caretakers.

I was forced to share this mishmash cottage with twelve other inmates, bordered on this expanse of woods providing me a refuge from leaky roofs, busted walls, peeling wallpaper, lukewarm baths, moldy musty scented showers, not to mention all the yelling, screaming, arguments, fights and constant disagreements of a house too small to accommodate the number of people residing within its creaky ramparts.  The Family nicknamed it the Hotel California. You know the place where you check in but never check out. The nails across chalkboard voices of The Family were constant knife thrusts to my brain making daily life a constant battle that did not end even has the diurnal gave up residence to the nocturnal for they all snored, wheezed and gasped through the night abyss. The Family’s house sits on an oddly place piece of land, our house gives way to forest which in turn after several miles gives way to craggy, rocky shores of a steep cliff, where if one sits perfectly still you can hear the violent waves crashing against rough jagged rock formations that looked as though they were designed by the devil himself. It is said that in olden times there used to be many shipwrecks where sailors were either impaled on the razor sharp Stalagmites. Sometimes you can even hear the shrieks, moans, cries and groans of the unfortunate wretches mixed in with the howling winds.

So I periodically retreated to my exoskeleton asylum as a sentry medium between earth and sky. I can never turn my mind off completely but within my secret hiding place the voices were kept to a low roar and bid to change direction and pace.

The Kindling delivered me from The Family’s vocalizations. I tried to warn them before. I tried to silence the voices through escape, but it was not working so I had to try another plan. The crackles and pops of my campfire seem to be in sync with the screams and cries for rescue from the patients locked inside their rooms but eventually those voices will die out also, and then sleep.  Blessed sleep.  As I drifted off I thought I heard sounds creeping up on me.  Maybe it could be…. Naw.  How would those deviant mutations get all the way out here.

While pyrotechnics roared and exploded beyond the glen my dream state thoughts went to Calista and Cassandra those Kudzu Chia matronly tumbleweeds who wreck havoc and chaos wherever they spore and spawn and their equally troublesome and problematic one-legged Siamese twin cousins Morton and Milton.

Love,

Cassandra

Germ Warfare

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Azithromycin, Body Snatchers, City MD Urgent Care at 336 East 86th Street, Cold Virus, Cornucopia, Dr. Phibes, Evil, Germs, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Kefir, Malevolent, Records, Vincent Price, Vinyl, Vitamins, Walgreens, Walking Wounded, Wicked2 Comments

Germ Warfare

After a fruitful and pleasant visit to City MD Urgent Care at 336 East 86th Street I was diagnosed with yet another sinus infection. I seem to get them every 3 to 4 months. Why I don’t know?! CityMD Urgent Care are very efficient using Google Maps to locate the Walgreens in my neighborhood Fulton & Nostrand send them the prescriptions so all I had to do was pick it up.

Carnival Cruise 2004
2004 Carnival Cruise

Now I’m back to being a pill factory. A veritable cornucopia of pills, ear drops, nasal spray, and my buddy Azithromycin. Damn! There’s no escaping old age, body decline & being tired, exhausted and drained, no matter how much healthy organic foods I eat; water, juice, and Kefir I drink, yogurt I consume or daily exercise. Guess I’m just a magnet for germs.

Ah the joys of living with Acute Sinusitis! Since last Thursday I have drunk more tea with honey and lemon and eaten so much garlic that even though it did not kill the germs I was not visited by any Vampires. By Labor Day I was so wiped out by hacking and coughing the previous night I had morphed into a raccoon. I do believe I left behind a lung, kidney and parts of my diaphragm at my workplace.  I looked like I had gone a few rounds with boxer Muhammad Ali in his prime or spent three weeks without sleep since I had two black eyes. I could barely speak and became a raspy voice Joe Cocker harlequin at the Annual Palace Ball!

Being a soldier I fought these invaders to my system with humongous amounts of liquids, eventually consuming cloves of garlic in a nearly raw state so much so that I could have repelled an Army of the Undead. By Monday Labor Day I was pushed into the role of Zombie Guard at my workplace. Tuesday I stayed home to recover and felt well enough Wednesday to attend an outing in Central Park with friends.

For several days now, Mr. Nasal Congestion, his wife Missy Mucous invited what sounded like an entire team of Flamenco dancers to torture my right ear.  The clickety clacking sounds were so loud that obviously the Flamenco dancers were using extra loud castanets! The accompanying pain was like Flamenco dancers were driving a nail, spear or knife through my right ear ala the Vincent Price, Dr. Phibes! Enough! Thus my journey to CityMD Urgent Care for relief from pain, congestion and coughing. Now I’m about to put these ear drops in my right ear and murder all those inconsiderate castanet playing tap dancing Flamencos!! Die you evil bastards!!!

Folks it is like being a host for the Germ Factory Club. Gonna make you sweat with a delightful roasted body fever. You feel the Invasion of the Body Snatchers partying inside your body doing the Cha, Cha, Cha, Tango, Rumba and Foxtrot all up and down my sinus cavities!  The beautiful static noise inside my right ear reminds me of the point when the needle touches the vinyl on old fashioned records.

Today I may be a member of the Walking Wounded but I will repel these nasty malevolent trespassers away from my being! Next in my arsenal, super duper strength vitamins! Get back you wicked virus!  My sword released from its sheath and I will win the battle and the war!