I must tell Rebecca that I did what I told her I could not do. I sat through a service with a bunch of religious people and kept my cool. I don't know how well I "infiltrated" but at least I sat there and didnt make myself (that) noticeable. Perhaps I could join her and Trish on an escapade to infiltrate the religious right. The whole passion of crhist passion play nouveau damnation speech was fairly entertaining, and I felt just a tad bit amused and able to laugh and not fall asleep. I deserve a reward and some kudos for this. I am starting to watch The Color Purple tonight, for the umpteenth billionth time in my life. Celie is a Black Woman with pain and the undergirth of her suffering is shown in that pain. And her wisdom. Celie is strong though her skin is human and she bleeds. She is not leather, none of us are. Tonight with Robert has been fun, although I am not much for his religious stuff at least I was out, with him. Alas, when he comes over tonight we shall see. Ahem. Anyway. Im off to write my letters/emails to contacts that I should be making. Ciao. ... Interesting I write this in the form of a letter-- it's alice's influence.

Stew is interesting. We have started over Giovanni's Room and the way in which our relationship has progressed is totally queer, even if not romantic or sexual or otherwise. He is a pretty interesting boy, totally not like anything that I would ever pursue, but sometimes you just take what falls into your lap. It will be interesting to see where this goes. Tread the waters lightly.......

Wonderful News from Seattle!!

This is a wonderful bit of news from antiwar activists in Seattle!

I am really excited to learn more about this conference that is happening in Venezuela this summer. I want to go! I was really very glad to encounter Zach G and Dex again ( I know I have met Zach somewhere before). Charity is so inspiring! I think she is beautiful, and the grace that she earned in her six months in prison truly show through. She knows what it is to be in the mix of fighting for a cause. She moves with a more graceful step. I can't figure out what to make of the hand play that went on between myself and Matt --there was certainly some kind of connection, but I think he didnt want to pursue it as I don't live anywhere near him. He was very cute though... and very attentive. It made me really sad to talk to Dr. Szpiech today. The world is unfair. How is it that she, such a wonderful, progressive intellectual is suffering as she is? At least let her have enough money to take care of herself. I hate I havent kept in touch with her, but I am glad our friendship is renewed. I feel like crying too much....the flood would never end.

The summit and rally this weekend were quite amazing! Despite the freezing temperatures and my sore throat and sniffles-- we had an amazing weekend and I feel oh so inspired by the connections that I made and the people that I got a chance to bond with, the feeling was amazing. Standing in solidarity with my brothers and sisters and demanding that the walls of the empire fall! Michael Parenti was an excellent speaker, and he totally cleared my thinking on a lot of things...which previously had been located in terms of undertanding...right outside of my periphery. I am ready to get things started with these initiatives.. My next few posts, when I have the energy...will be autobiographical.

I am sick with hayfever tonight...... I am sick.....ehh. I am sick and bored with monotony and tired of humdrum. I feel a bit trapped without being able to move about as I please, when I please. At times, in Lafayette, I have felt like a well kept harem girl- specifically when I lived at the lodge, and when I used to sit in their shelter and wait for the bus to arrive every morning. I need to feel free to breathe, to expand my lungs. I met two absolutely gorgeous latino men today, Charles is by far the lovelier-- and I got his phone number. I tell you, when I was typing on my thesis earlier I was almost drugged out of my head-- by whatever bug this is I have. Ack. Dinner tonight was very good, and Candace is a trip and no I didn't leave a tip;-) I am the last of the jewish tippers. I am very glad for her and Jason-- he is hot and I would want him for myself if he turned the other way. Oh well, I am going to end this .

March 15,2005

Today I had a wonderful day. I had lunch with Josh and came home after watching a movie in Heavilon hall. I turned on my music and let the thoughts run through my head..... I have been very scared and operating out of fear for a lot of my life and it is time to make some changes. My creativity has always been with me, but at times both it and me have been trapped in a black hole.I dedicate my life to truth, to telling the truth, and to loving and caring those that I love and care about and the world and the universe to its fullest extent. Other than that, I felt much better after dancing around for half an hour and even came up with some new, innovative things...such as my ballet of the three chairs....;-) Set to the tune of "Make it Like a Memory." I will commit myself to writing at least to pages on my thesis tonight. Sarchophage. Imperfection is perfection...it is the body that counts. I take that thought and those words (partially) from Francois Trauffaut, indirectly through Barbra Streisand. I will no longer fear I will live with my imperfections. I will live, and breathe, purely and simply.

To want something and then to have ideals....is to suffer. I'll finish this thought later.

This is to my reviews on epinions.

http://www.epinions.com/user-pierretascher

OK...... I just got through watching Raintree County and all I have to say is "what the hell?....." All in all, it was an enjoyable film and I love Liz Taylor for being so bold as to take on the part of a potentially colored woman who is not only, but who is also crazy ( I tell you the way that the color issue is so neatly resolved in this film doesnt sit well with me at all). It truly shows her spirit and shows her to be a woman made of moxy. I wonder who she was connected with in Hollywood back then to make such a film--and as I know this is not the only politically conscious film that she made at that time I do wonder as well how the studios allowed her, recruited, or permitted her to make such films given the nature of the Hollywood Studios at the time. I think she must have had some power back then, which I am sure of (but to get to choose a film, and like this one?). The million-dollar breaker definitely has left her mark on Hollywood. Cheers, Liz!

A snippet of conversation from gay.com......


nevitablecharm: I think thats your attitudePierre_Tascher_02: not at allPierre_Tascher_02: this placePierre_Tascher_02: iand its environmentPierre_Tascher_02: are totallyinevitablecharm: Then you should leavePierre_Tascher_02: unprogressivePierre_Tascher_02: and see....Pierre_Tascher_02: there you go lolPierre_Tascher_02: you Pierre_Tascher_02: and your whitenessPierre_Tascher_02: who deem that you can tell mePierre_Tascher_02: what I should and should not doPierre_Tascher_02: you need some liberation in your life....inevitablecharm: Yes, I can tell you, so shove off. Take your fat black ass and leave.Pierre_Tascher_02: hahaPierre_Tascher_02: you and your whiteness....Pierre_Tascher_02: and what can Purdue do for me?Pierre_Tascher_02: lord give me strengthPierre_Tascher_02: anywayPierre_Tascher_02: I recommendinevitablecharm: Nothing cause you cannot do a thing for yourselfPierre_Tascher_02: reading Alice WalkerPierre_Tascher_02: and Audre LordePierre_Tascher_02: and Pierre_Tascher_02: Adrienne RichPierre_Tascher_02: and bell hooksPierre_Tascher_02: becausePierre_Tascher_02: theyPierre_Tascher_02: can definitelyPierre_Tascher_02: change your lifePierre_Tascher_02: for the betterinevitablecharm: I assume you have posters of the black panthers above your bed?Pierre_Tascher_02: I doPierre_Tascher_02: some of them-)Pierre_Tascher_02: ;-)Pierre_Tascher_02: who is above yours?inevitablecharm: Very sad, the only reason your so bitter is because even your own race, mankind, had given up on youinevitablecharm: your hate is so deep that you are blinded by itPierre_Tascher_02: my hate?Pierre_Tascher_02: although I must say I do ..sortof...possess not a hate..but a disgustPierre_Tascher_02: I will sayPierre_Tascher_02: but alasPierre_Tascher_02: you are even inevitablecharm: I speak hate to you cause its all you understand. Even if I had spoken politely to you you wouldnt have understood itPierre_Tascher_02: out of it...there is no such thing as racePierre_Tascher_02: I must sayinevitablecharm: YES, there is a racePierre_Tascher_02: I dont hate anythingPierre_Tascher_02: hahainevitablecharm: its called HUMANSPierre_Tascher_02: "yes mr white man.....Pierre_Tascher_02: there is race"Pierre_Tascher_02: anywayPierre_Tascher_02: you need some liberationPierre_Tascher_02: so you canPierre_Tascher_02: stop being a white malePierre_Tascher_02: and learnPierre_Tascher_02: to be Humaninevitablecharm: See, you are so full of hate you dont even listenPierre_Tascher_02: ....inevitablecharm: But I dont think you hate white people or black peoplePierre_Tascher_02: there is no such thingPierre_Tascher_02: as white peoplePierre_Tascher_02: or black peopleinevitablecharm: I think you hate yourself, cause of what you look like, because of how you are and your only last string to hold onto is HATEPierre_Tascher_02: well, there are Black people...Pierre_Tascher_02: but only in the Black artsPierre_Tascher_02: expressionistPierre_Tascher_02: sensePierre_Tascher_02: of the wordPierre_Tascher_02: ok....Pierre_Tascher_02: I think I am beautiful-)Pierre_Tascher_02: I also think that you need some liberation-)

My First Memory

My first memory of a Radical Blackness was in Headstart or in some early point during my time at Price Elementary School when they held a celebration during Black HIstory Month to commemorate the making of MLK's birthday into a federal holiday. As we endted the auditorium, I saw the emblazoned, life-sized figures of Black faces hanging on posters from the ceiling: Bill Cosby, Angela Davis, Lena Horne, and Maya Angelou are some that I remember. These were beautiful black faces, and the auditorium reverbrated as the sound of Stevie Wonder's voice bounced off the wall as he sang "Happy Birthday," his tribute to Dr. King. It was Black pride and Black assertiveness in a school where most of the children's faces were of color- either black or brown.

My Elemmentary school was a beautiful school as I remember. It seemed either grey or light green on the outside, contrasting the off white and colorful murals on the side walks with a welcoming asphald playground where I used to swing and play house in the monkey bars. I never climbed just to climb. I was different. Inside was good as were sheltered by mostly endearing black faces with an occassional white one appearing, such as Aunt Johnnie's good friend and my teacher for one year while I was there at Price, Mrs. Bull. It was especially the case for me, as my Aunt Johnnie was given care for my tutelage from the time I was three years old-- from Head Start to first grade. This has led to the wicked side of me-- my vanity and somewhat snobbishness. I did feel special during my time there at Price, and I was taken care of by my aunts and the others there around me. I felt like an exception. I loved school, and even more so I loved learning.

My childhood was shrouded in some magical cloud where I spent the considerable part of my time -- in the libraries, museums, and engaged intellectually, pondering the things of the world. There was an excited energy around my youth, from my parents involvement in and the immediacy of the Jackson and Washington campaings and my aunts and grandmother's participation in the Chicago Teacher's Union. Although they were not dyed-in - the-wool progressives, this involvement on their part allowed me a premature taste of the ideology and the vision and the urgency of Blackpride and its commitment to progressive struggle. I dont know how much of my awareness was due to their involvement and how much was just my being there in Chicago. The entire city was possessed by an energy and a zeal that was daily fed to the masses of people-- on television, through social activist networks, and through word of mouth interaction.


I remember the elation of Washington's election as mayor and I remember the intense sadness and futile loss of his death. I remmeber the power and vision of Jesse Jackson's bid for presidency and the unity felt in his political message. The beauty of that time was real and inspiring and the legacy of those people in progressive movement created the context and the background for my political development and my growth as a human being concerned with the welfare of humanity and the eradication of oppression for people across the globe.

My background is spotted with movments of progressivisim and elements that provide a backdrop for my formation as a person of consciousness. My mother and other members of my family were involved with the Frank London Brown Historical Society, which sounds like a very progressive group that met periodically to host discussions on issues of the black community, black history, and the legacy of progressive struggle, and hosted very notable figures that addressed the group and had ties to several celebrity figures that were local. Not only was my mother present in the organization, but also Aunt Johnnie, Uncle Archie, and Cousin Fannie. My mother's participation ended when the organization was raided. Government crackdowns on progressive entities brought my mother's enlightnment to a halt. I know absolutely nothing else about this organization, not even whether it is still in existence.

My Uncle Archie, who was a member of the group, was apparently a friend and neighbor of Dick Gregory's. My Uncle Donald was tied to, if not a member of, the Black Panther Party. My uncle is very a very progressive-oriented man- he gave me a copy of Langston Hughes' "I Wonder as I Wander" when I was thirteen years old. That book enlightened me in many ways and opened my eyes to the world as I learned about the Chinese and watermelons floating down the Mekong River, and Russian peasants in Tashkent sipping from a communal bowl of tea.....

I am absolutely awful. LOL. " Hey there.....what was your name? Ryan?" "Nick." (I knew it was one of those white boy names)...... I am really really awful. lol. However, he is cute. I should be more attentive to people.

Today I am thinking about my family, or more so my heritage. My heritage and my position as a DeRamus and a Goodson and the legacy that both of those things bring to me. I am privileged, and it is a mixed blessing, sometimes absolutely confining. My ancestors bring me strength......

Tonight I am stoned.... I swear. For the first time in my life... but on some hookah stuff. Anyway,
I love josh, he is like a brother to me. Maybe I haven't known him long enough or whatever, but he is very dear to me. Other than that, all I have to say is Lafayette is evil....and I rarely use that word-- and its not in the good sense of the word either. [I am editing this. I generally don't tamper with the archive, but I am moved to. I sound too much like a white boy and it is frightening-- instead of "wierd" I have inserted "evil." A word, perhaps, I use too much.]

One of thefirst things I want to talk about is to establish a definition of the boundaries that I see that exist between this dichotomy (false though it may be) between the "White" and the "Other" (primarily black) that exists in this country, especially in the social fabric that has been woven within the steel frameworks of American polity and economy. I think that which separates those that exist within this dominant structure (reason why they should get out of it) is the manner of how they exist and operate. In my interactions with so called white people, I find that one thing that separates the ultimate connection between cultures, if you will, is the expression of grief, the expression of pain, and the overall way in which we bond amongst ourselves and express our love, our joy, our sorrow, our deepest and truest emotions. Power structures breed coldness and encourage those that exist within it to operate accordingly. They provide "rules" by which people are supposed to live...and especially those who are brought up in the light of the system are taught to act and conduct themselves according to the "rules" established by this structure. This is not to say that Nonwhite cultures don't have rules, but alas, outside of the white world and the eyesight of the power structure people do possess the ability to scream and express themselves and to cry and to love passionately and to hate and to bitch and moan to their hearts content. This is not the answer to the world's riddle, but it is something that helps us not go crazy or to run ourselves over from the inside.

I am pretty naive sometimes and I do look at people and think "oh how perfect their lives are...aren't they beautiful?" But more and more I have come to notice the flaws within them and that which constantly keeps them on the point of crashing...which is a lesson for this (un)civilized culture. I have not seen more "beautiful people" abusing drugs, alcohol, themselves, others, or other addictions, or simply being out of touch with their humanity and the humanity of others. That said, American culture is on its way towards an ultimate and violent end as not only does it fail to respect the humanity of others, but within its own systemic way of living, the hostility within it is growing within it to such gargantuan levels that their will surely be chaos at the end of this viscious cycle of cutthroat competitiveness. There is something to be learned from studying those cultures that have outlasted the "great" civilizations throughout history.....

Tonight I am reinvigorating this blog. As I hear doors slam and people chattering around me I am focusing in to reinstate this blog to be sort of my manifesto, my sounding board, the place where I will lay down my thoughts for all others to see as they fall out of my head. I reintroduce myself again tonight as a passionate, creative, feminist,queer,imaginative spirit who only thrives and wishes to be free in the midst of a hounding patriarchy that seeks to confine and to bind everyone into the murderous wheel that they call progress.......

Today was really interesting. I missed the last bus back to Willowbrook, so I spent a couple of hours on the phone trying to find a ride back home, and finally ended up getting Sheila to take me home. The MHN callout was very interesting. Carlos seemed very disturbed or emotional when he began speaking about what Marxist-Humanism was and how it fit onto Purdue's campus. I am sure he sensed or was unsure of the political inclination of his audience.....which I sensed was more conservative than either he or I- especially considering the answers they were calling out to his provocations. I was really suprised, but shouldnt have been I suppose when JC showed up. He is quite cute and I definitely have taken a liking to him....but I take a liking to any man that I can talk to for more than two minutes these days. I may have let on...or been obvious aobut it tonight as well. I usually am. I hope he comes over for dinner sometime. I had a four hour lunch with Dr. Dorsey today, it was great and I of course love Dr. Dorsey to death. He is my cornerstone here at Purdue. he has definitely been that--he along with Dr. Williams- that has kept me sane and grounded for three semesters. I met Jorge today, he is interesting, very cute, and intriguing. I would love to chat with him more. I sent him an email. Dr. Dorsey's conversation was very enlightening and shed some light to me about the goings on of academia. I wonder what he has to say about Angela Davis...... There are two little white girls behind me (college students) who are having a private conversation...and what I hear definitely sounds like what they are....little white girls. I was thinking today about my experiences at Huntingdon. Huntingdon College was defintiely a blessing in disguise for me. We did have such great people there guiding us, modling us, and who left their indelible mark upon me ( and Rebecca, but Ill let her speak for herself. I am of the utmost debt to Greg Salyer, Chella Courington, Cecile Gray, Dr. Deal, Maureen Murphy, Jane Williams, mmmm., Kim Szpiech, and a couple of others who worked effortlessly, and tirelessly to create an intellectually stimulating, growth stimulating, warm, and loving environment. Greg and Chella were the rocks I stood on. My memories of Huntingdon College were fond and fabulous. It was definitely a progressive environment ( at least in our little web) and one that I will always and forever cherish. To think back on it now, I cant believe, and it is amazing that I was introduced in my freshmem year of college to Feminist theory...to Helene Cixous and Julie Kristeva...god....I am so greatful to Chella. I gained my intellectual bearings at Huntingdon College. Greg Salyer challenged me, accepted me, tolerated my tendencies, yet forced me to be more open than I was and am. I am forever greatful for those lessons. Dr. Deal provided stimulation, structure, and guidance....a father figure. Jane Williams was our mother hen..taking us out to lunch and dinner always....and providing us with a wonderful love and tenderness. Susan Koppelman has also been a wonderful mentor to me....even vicariously. I look forward to meeting her. I am the grateful beneficiary of her wisdom, advise, goading, and chastisement. I am surrounded and connected to the most wonderful, established, and giant figures that I can imagine. Susan, ....... who taught the first Women's Studies Course in the country, Mab- who paid me the greatest compliment I have ever recieved....she told me that I reminded her most of herself while she was at Huntingdon College. Chella.....Greg...... My cousin Betty, the pulitzer prize nominated Journalist who interacted with my Uncle Lawrence.
I am more than

Friday was a beautiful day for me in two ways. Firstly, I heard the Brown sisters speak, they were powerful, they were poetic, and they spoke the truth. In Cheryl Brown Henderson, I found a feww soul sister, a warrior for the cause of justice who is bold, beautiful, and unafraid (or perhaps afraid not) to speak the truth to power and imagine a new world where there is equality and justice for people of color and all other oppressed as well. I neded to hear her speak that night. Her words were like salve to my soul and were a reaffirmation of the fact that what I was doing was right. I care about people and about justice and I care about seeing the basic needs of each and every member of a society are meet. I would like to live my life accordingly to this. The second reason why Friday was such a good day was because I happened upon a man again hat I had very much attracted to. I had happened upon him three times, all three b y accident. Thie first time we meet, we were at the bust depot waiting for the bus, and I spotted him and we started chatting, primarily about what I was studying and what I was interested in, and soon the conversation moved to my proposed topic of study, Double Consciousness. We talked for a long while. I gave him my number and he promised to call or look me up, as he had no phone. The second time was the other day while I was tabling he passed and then stopped by on his way to the library,and then the third time was that evening when he popped into the compuer ab that I was using there in the Union. H e was fabulous, and I had known that he had been in a bad situation, as he had lost his place to live, had no phone and no job at all- all of this after having graduated from Purdue. He was really sweet
and really beautiful, and that night, after we had watched the Brown sisters speak in Fowler Hall, he made me admit to him that I was into him. He was beautiful, and we spoke and had great conversation after that, yet he refused to tell me whether he liked me as well or whether he was gay or not. We did talk a long time, yet he never let on to whether he dug me or not, and wouldnt either refuse or accept my offer to kiss him while riding the bus. He promised to contact me, however he didnt know when because he had been evicted and was being forced to move the next day(god what a horrid system).When he lifted his hat and placed it back on his head and turned to walk the forty minutes it took him to get downtown and then to his home, I was at peace and new that I had been touched that day and that what he had given me was worth more than most anything I could possibly have, even if I never saw him again.

I havent worked on this blog much in the past year. I could say that a lot has been going on, especially when it really hasnt. I have been going to school , (even though that doesnt occupy more than half of my time or a third of my energy) or I could say that I am not technologically inclined and for some reason as well I have been mistrustful of placing my feelings and thoughts into the written record , I dont know why but something has prevented me from doing that and I need to shop this force from undertaking me. i need to get back into the writing mode, I need to free my dried up creative juices and explore the world newly invigorated.