Guest Post!


The Jess Resides Here book blog let me hang out and write a guest post!

I talk more about rocking the world with art.

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Operation Planned Parenthood Update


Buenos dias, mis compadres!

It’s an excellent day here in San Francisco. The sun is out. The buskars are singing. The news is spreading.

I’m so excited–it’s like the 4th of July!

 

The Austin CultureMap ran an excellent article yesterday about how I’m donating all my August royalties to Planned Parenthood, to help provide Well Woman exams to low-income women.

Currently, Amazon is a wee bit back ordered on Placenta of Love. This is great news! It means all the copies Amazon had in stock have been purchased. You can still order the book through them, and the purchase will still count towards the Planned Parenthood project. Of course, if you want to read the book RIGHT NOW you can also order it as an e-book for Kindle, through Barnes and Noble or through your favorite indie bookshop.

The news is spreading.

The project is getting bigger.

Together we can rock it, and fill the sky with fireworks.

Review and Giveaway!


Jess at the Jess Resides Here book blog just reviewed Placenta of Love. Which is, you know, awesome. What’s even better? She’s giving away an e-copy. Go sign up!
And watch Jess Resides Here for the rest of the week. She’s got an interview with me popping up, and I even wrote a guest post.

Can art change the world?


This is a bit of a long post, so I hope you’ll bear with me.

I’m donating all my August royalties to Planned Parenthood, and here’s why…

I believe art can change the world.

I believe artists can take their art, mould it, and use it to change the things that need changing.

During the past year, state governments have been taking reproductive and health rights from women. A lot of brave women and men fought for decades to provide women with these rights. At times, these governmental actions have made me feel like we’re regressing rather than progressing. This breaks my heart. Like, big time.

Planned Parenthood, a non-profit organization that provides reproductive health services to both men and women, has found itself in the middle of this argument. This is a problem, and not just because we’re talking about women’s reproductive rights. It’s a problem because Planned Parenthood provides medical care to low income men and women who otherwise would be unable to afford the essential medical services Planned Parenthood offers.

Many believe Planned Parenthood only provides birth control and abortions. This is simply not accurate. They also provide medical screening and a variety of treatments for conditions such as urinary tract infections. I’ve even known low-income people who have had sinus infections treated by Planned Parenthood during a visit for another health issue. According to their website, one of their purposes is, “to build a healthier world for a diverse new generation of women, men, and young people – both at home in the United States and around the globe.”

I can’t argue with this.

There are a lot of women out there who need Well Women exams who can’t afford them. A Well Woman exam evaluates a woman’s gynecological health in order to treat and prevent significant medical conditions like cancer. According to Scientific American, in 2011 Planned Parenthood provided 750,000 breast exams and 770,000 Pap tests. Both of these exams are a necessary preventative and diagnostic tool for all women. Without Planned Parenthood, there would be thousands of women who couldn’t afford these exams. This has been especially true as the American economy has suffered during the last several years.

Women’s health is a topic special to my heart. Planned Parenthood is an organization I believe in. I want to do something to bring attention to women’s health issues. I want to help women who need health care but can’t afford it. I want to support Planned Parenthood. And I expect I’m not alone.

I don’t have a lot. I’m a writer and a busker, and neither of these professions are notorious for bringing in massive amounts of wealth. But I do have a book called Placenta of Love for which I receive royalties every month. I want to use my art, my book, to do some good in the world. Besides, it’s a book about a giant placenta—how could this be any more perfect?

As previously mentioned, during the month of August, the month during which Women’s Equality Day lands, I will donate my royalties from Placenta of Love to Planned Parenthood. These funds will be used to provide Well Women exams to low-income women. This means I will donate all the money I make for every copy of my book sold during August. I want to send Planned Parenthood a lot of money, and I can’t do it alone. There’s several ways to support this project.

  • You can buy a paper or e-copy of Placenta of Love from Amazon, Barnes and Noble or through your favorite indie bookshop.
  • You can tell your friends that if they buy the book starring a giant placenta, they’ll be helping Planned Parenthood.
  • You can blog, tweet or post on Facebook about this project.

I’ll also be doing some other fundraising activities on my blog throughout the month, so keep an eye out for other ways to support this project.

You have my biggest thanks, for reading and being supportive.

Love,

Spike

Oya


We’re living in a crazy time.

With each passing week, states continue to wage a war on women, on their health on their rights.

I gotta say, I wish I could call on Oya, the Yorubaian goddess of major kickassery.

She’s the goddess of rum, red wine,  witchcraft, revenge, pregnant women, fertility, rebirth and magic. She’s also the goddess of warfare, destruction, death, storms, hurricanes and rebirth.

You know what else? She’s a protector for those who need protection. She champions women and will stand up for them against oppression or people who treat women poorly.

On a whim, Oya can cause a huge natural disaster occur and absolutely kick the asses of anyone who pisses her off.

There’s a lot of lawmakers who are lucky Oya hasn’t come calling for them. If they’re not careful, maybe she will.

Image by Steven Gravel

in which i blog


I’ve holed up for a few weeks, I know. And I hope you all forgive me for not providing regular blog content. But I have no desire to fill needless space. When I blog, I want to say something of substance, for you, for me. Besides, sometimes life happens. Serious life stuff, and a girl needs to go away and take care of life for a little bit. But all is well now.

Since I’ve been gone some exciting things have happened:

  1. Placenta of Love is now a t-shirt, thanks to Scurvy Ink.
  2. Niedobre Literki talks about and quotes my How to Have a Paranormal Romance tumblr. (Which also needs some serious updating.)
  3. An editor has asked for a story. I’ve been working on a bizarro zombie story, which ROCKS.
  4. Ross Lockhart pairs Placenta of Love with Brekel’s Brown for a comforting Thirsty Thursday.
  5. I’ve had some awesome busking days in SF.
  6. I made out with Mark Twain. (Pictures coming!)
  7. I learned I have a ninety-four-year-old fan, which is probably the AWESOMEST news of all.

Some sad stuff has happened, too. For example, did you hear:

  1. Wisconsen Gov. Walker repealed the state’s Equal Pay Enforcement Act, which “… offered legal repercussions for employees discriminated against based on race, age, disability, religion, sexual orientation or other factors….” According to Milwaukee Mayor Tom Barrett’s campaign said Walker’s “ideological civil war includes a war on women, and repeal today of this protection against pay discrimination is a major step backwards for Wisconsin values and basic fairness.” (See link for citation and further information.)
  2. Georgia State Representative England compared “…women seeking abortions of stillborn fetuses to cows and pigs.“State Rep. Terry England was speaking in favor of HB 954, which makes it illegal to obtain an abortion after 20 weeks even if the woman is known to be carrying a stillborn fetus or the baby is otherwise not expected to live to term.”
  3. And other states continue to meddle with women’s reproductive rights.

I was brought up in Utah, an incredibly conservative state. And even though I was surrounded by conservatives,  I was also brought up to believe women were as good as men and have the same rights. I was brought up to believe that we had made progress in America, allowing women freedom and choice to make decisions about our bodies.

Not only are these rights and freedoms being taken away, women’s health is now in jeopardy.

If a fetus dies in utero and the pregnancy does not miscarry (which does happen), a qualified health care practitioner needs to remove the fetus from the uterus. A doctor effectively has to perform an abortion. If the abortion is not performed, the woman can develop a serious infection resulting in illness or even death. And that’s not considering the psychological or emotional impact of the event on the woman and her family.

I love my country, and I would hate to think our legislators do not value me.

It’s become apparent that I may need to refocus my crime-fighting efforts elsewhere. Let Malkor X protect San Francisco from petty thugs. I may be able to make a difference elsewhere.

I’ll blog more happily next time. Promise.

I hope your weekend ROCKS!

xoxo

Spike

A Lackluster Performer in all Aspects by Michael Allen Rose


 

Dull, inescapably dull.

Boring. Dusty. Mundane.

Not an instant where we found ourselves pulled in.

Not a heartbeat of captured time.

No, this was nothing worth writing home about.

Nothing worth phoning, telegraphing, nothing at all.

And yet…

No, it was a sad spectacle in every way.

Cliched. Hackneyed. Overdone.

Not one moment in which to suspend our disbelief.

Not a twinkle in the eyes of the watching children.

No, hardly worth mentioning.

Not worth remembering, hardly even there.

And yet…

There was…

No, the price of admission was too high at any price.

Garish. Horrid.

A clownish smear of color across the eyes.

Sickly hues scribbled over their features.

We were aghast, we covered our eyes in horror.

They looked like demons, finger-painted in the air.

And yet…

There was…

Something…

No. Nothing. The music was noise and chaos.

Gasping. Screeching. Violent.

The broken strings lamented against a wall of rumbles.

The musicians were out of tune.

The conductor had stabbed himself through the eye with his baton.

These were the sounds of agony, of factories and pollution.

And yet…

There was…

Something…

What was it?

Dull, inescapably dull.

Boring. Dusty. Mundane.

Not an instant where we found ourselves pulled in.

Not a heartbeat of captured time.

No, this was nothing worth writing home about.

Nothing worth phoning, telegraphing, nothing at all.

And yet…

No, it was a sad spectacle in every way.

Cliched. Hackneyed. Overdone.

Not one moment in which to suspend our disbelief.

Not a twinkle in the eyes of the watching children.

No, hardly worth mentioning.

Not worth remembering, hardly even there.

And yet…

There was…

No, the price of admission was too high at any price.

Garish. Horrid.

A clownish smear of color across the eyes.

Sickly hues scribbled over their features.

We were aghast, we covered our eyes in horror.

They looked like demons, finger-painted in the air.

And yet…

There was…

Something…

No. Nothing. The music was noise and chaos.

Gasping. Screeching. Violent.

The broken strings lamented against a wall of rumbles.

The musicians were out of tune.

The conductor had stabbed himself through the eye with his baton.

These were the sounds of agony, of factories and pollution.

And yet…

There was…

Something…

What was it?

______________________________________________

Michael Allen Rose is a writer, performance artist, producer and musician living in Chicago, IL with a cat named Dandelion. Originally from the frozen wastes of North Dakota, Michael’s plays have been produced in New York, Chicago, Portland, Denver and several other major cities. He is founder and artistic director of RoShamBo Theatre, and releases industrial and experimental music under the pseudonym Flood Damage. His shorter pieces have been published in Kizuna: Fiction for Japan and seen on stage at Chicago’s famed Second City where he spent a year studying at the conservatory.

His first book, Party Wolves in My Skull, is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and via your favorite indie bookshop.