DAUGHTERS OF COURAGE newly released!
This is a novel about a butch dike who starts her own women’s lib organization. Great descriptions, realistic dialogue—excellent plot. Now fer’ sale CHEAP on ebook!
DAUGHTERS began as little church gatherings-- in their hotel room with Valiant preaching-- and finally, became a radical feminist organization, The DAUGHTERS OF COURAGE. We are introduced to a number of interesting women. Sappho Witch, Kenyetta Nyrobi, et al. More & more disfranchised women pour into DAUGHTERS OF COURAGE. The organization rapidly grows; they get their own meeting hall; hold events: “We used our welfare checks to pay for it!” Some of the poorer members yelled, in a toast, clinking soda cans at the celebration. Bare floor; 2,000 square feet stretched out before them. The few folding chairs the church owned by now had been moved in. “And the bourgeoisie pays for it all!” A dyke hollered with glee.” True to the Arobateau style there are many humorous passages. Also, amazingly, amid all the action there’s still time for some sex scenes!
PS. The dedication page of DAUGHTERS OF COURAGE reads: “In memory of Valerie Solanas.” Valerie Solanas; madwoman, creative artist, and would-be assassin’s last earthy address was the Bristol Hotel, not but a stones throw from the San Francisco branch of RED JORDAN PRESS who provided this Book Report in 2005.
So back to my journal--like I describe it was the poverty years of an Old Man, who had once been young.
This city is a cruel mistress, she governs by greed. Every landlord raises their rents sky-high to the limit. Each restaurant overcharges for increasingly small portions. The meat section in the cheaper supermarket is exorbitant. If it was not for charity, and handouts—he’d be a dead man.
The horrible reality—why this city is not free, is that the rents keep going up every time a tenant moves, so one on a fixed income dare not move even tho their situation might be horrible. We are not free. If we were, people could move here & there, testing the waters, & gradually make their way into a neighborhood more conducive for their lifestyle—but this greed rears its ugly head & blocks the way.
I think all of our spirits are moaning & groaning for God(es). After our pets, our spouses, our friends are prayed for and their deliverance given up to God in prayer—then the spirit inside us wreaths, in its hunger for God. Its uncertainty. We are Israel—we who believe—whither we are born Jewish or not. Israel means—wrestling w/God. And we are wrestling. Humans are Gods finest creation. I have seen a picture of the surface of Mars, Dr. Sam showed me—it has hills, rocks, and what looks like was once a shoreline. It looks amazingly like earth—and it gave the Old Man confidence that soon people of earth would be traveling all over the galaxy—and finding new homes on new planets. He knew God wanted the Space Program to continue----and tho the current Administration in the White house has discontinued our USA Space Program—it is being picked up by millionaires and billionaires in the private sector, and by corporations too.
We will soon be traveling thru space!
We’ll getting back to God.
95 million Americans—1/3 of our nations population—not only watching American Idol on TV, but were so engrossed they took the time & voted for the stars; they have lost themselves in a Hollywood dream—while the rest of our planet is in upheaval. We are being displaced as Number #1. The Middle East is in the throes of awakening. The environment is moaning in travail—global warming is here; settling in w/mega holocaustic weather patterns, fires, floods, tornados, volcanoes, tsunamis; wreaking havoc. Many of us are frantically digging out a place for ourselves to endure the oncoming Armageddon. Cousin Carlos has his digs, a condo in Madison, WI, Monsieur Hugo his cabin on the Mesa, the Good Doctor Sam working at a trade which has been 20 years in the making… soon to get some kind of housing ownership I bet… and me… an Old Man in a dry season—waiting for enough art revenues to secure his tent, as the winds begin to howl…
Well Van Gogh had his letters to his brother Theo, and I got my Journal.
Go buy Red Jordan Arobateau’s books on Amazon.com; Lulu.com; his art books
w/paintings & text at Blurb.com, and his fine arts prints at Fineartamerica.com.
All material copyrighted by Red Jordan Arobateau. 2011.
Excerpts from his ongoing Journals.
(See lulu.com to get a copy or read some of it for free on Google.)