A poem for every day | Books Online Infinite treasures of all kinds. | Brautigan | Joseph Cornell | Harry Crosby | Dark Fairies The photography of Stephane Lord | Funferal :: engraved and retouched and edgewiped and pudden-padded :: observing the world from the midwest | The Gashlycrumb Tinies A is for Amy who fell down the stairs... | Gaslight Texts... Selected reading in singular turn-of-the- century fiction. | Arthur Machen | Charlotte Mew | Waning Moon | Works by John J Coughlin | Surrealism | Tolkien Society Dedicated to his writings | Tolkien Online All aspects of books and films | Greenbooks Essays on Tolkien's works.| Violet Books Antiquarian Supernatural, Fantasy & Mysterious Literatures, with many reviews. By the author of The Encyclopaedia of Amazons which is a really great book.

Herland A novel by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, author of "The Yellow Wallpaper".

The White People A short story by Arthur Machen. I disagree only with his philosophy that such things are intrinsically wrong.

Multiple Personality, Social Perception and the Media Wrote this with my in-system colleague Jade Greenwillow in '89 or '90, after having seen one film too many depicting multiples as out-of-control sociopaths.

On Integration I happened to be on line when an email came through asking for integration paraphernalia. Here is my reply.

Is multiple personality natural? I want to know what other people think of the idea that multiple personality or the state of being plural is a perfectly natural state of being and neither a "dissociative disorder" nor a clever "coping mechanism for dealing with childhoood trauma." I think both of these explanations for plurality are excuses; they're simplistic and disempowering.

No More Claiming our social rights and getting off the grid of the mental health system.

Removing Diagnostic Labels As a diagnosis, MPD/DID does not help multiples in the long run. Doctors and insurance companies make $$$ off us but are we helped?

How do we know this is our truth? Refuting arguments by well-intentioned survivor multiples who believe we are deluding ourselves.

The Kaycee Nicole Thing My take on a net phenomenon and how it affects multiples.

I occasionally hang out here, where I am alleged to be an admin, at least for the time being.

Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.

It maketh me to wake up in green pastures: it leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.

It restoreth my buzz: it leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for its name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction, I will fear no Equal (tm): for thou art with me; thy cream and thy sugar they comfort me.

Thou preparest a carafe before me in the prescence of Juan Valdez: thou anointest my day with pep; my mug runneth over.

Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the House of Maxwell for ever.

Thou rich, Black-roasted bean, the foe of sleep,
The bitter fruit of wild Columbian born,
Plucked from the navel of dark rain-forest deep
By leathered fingers in the glistening morn;
In ripeness wert thou from thy mother torn,
And from thy native field were rooted up,
That you might thrive anew as nectar in my cup.

O potent kernel of awareness keen,
O precious bride of bold alacrity,
With fiery brand of impulse, quick caffeine
That would burst from nature's shell in fury;
Distilled into a drink the gods call COFFEE:
The piping virile brew that sears my tongue,
And fills my veins with fire, my mind with joyful song.

Now do I see thy surface glimmering;
My weary eye, now eager, flashes back;
To grey-stained teeth and trembling lips I bring
A mug of sweet substance, burning, black:
The instincts of the true insomniac,
Thy fierce, devout, and ever-wakeful thrall,
Pervade my spirit, charge my senses one and all.

And so of gentle sleep I'll take my leave,
And bid adieu the idle dreamy state;
No more beneath its curtain seek reprieve
From this dynamic world; instead I'll sate
The sleepy urges with my surrogate,
Sweet Coffee: shiv'ring from thy kiss I'll come,
And forge a waking dream of my delirium.

Quarry vol. 16, no. 2
April 20, 1988
Department of English, Indiana University, Bloomington IN.
p.8