Review by darth.
Hi, it’s darth. Posthumous gender changes are fairly unprecedented, sure—the goddess Quan Yin pulled it off once, I think. And everybody likes to put a mustache on the Mona Lisa…. Last you heard from me on the subject, I was ankle deep in Wella Balsam shampoo commercials, somewhere near Bolinas, CA…. I’m comfortable, now, as a woman. All of the other, posthumous, gender-transitioning archetypes come to Bolinas, to shake off the dark side. I’m in good company! Let’s not get side-tracked from the oncoming November presidential election, though. Wait! The November, 2016 presidential election is being upstaged by a group of Native Americans at Standing Rock, in North Dakota, and the November, 2016 presidential election be like: “well, since there’s no way to stop this ‘the colonists are in charge of all of the resources, now’ thing, please go ahead and vote, on or before November 8th, and we’ll sort the details regarding our collective future out, later.” Michelle Obama says she is voting for the woman candidate-- and, let’s face it, Michelle Obama is pretty compelling. Her tribe was enslaved by colonists around here, not so long ago. She knows what adversity is, she’s strong. Yet, I don’t trust the woman for whom Michelle Obama is voting. That’s not a political statement. It’s a statement I am making as a woman. Okay, as a woman who was once a man…who turned into a robot named darth vader, who then died, moved to Bolinas, and changed genders. As that. The woman who wants to become the first Democratic woman president of America this month, has a very long history of involvement in colonialist aggressions, ya know? My new stance as a woman, is: sure, it sucks to hear the male Republican presidential candidate talk in an insincere way about my vagina, yet it also sucks equally, to hear the Democratic candidate, who has a vagina, refer to my vagina insincerely, to hear her strike up an allegiance with my vagina while she continues to support actions which deplete our mother Earth’s resources, and which degrade life itself, for humans whose political interests have no standing when they run counter to the dictates of a political ally’s avarice. It’s hard to sift out allegiances, when arguments become over-simplified, right? And, we want to be hopeful, productive, realistic…good mentors to our young girls. The horsemen of the apocalypse may be Rainbow Dash ponies, as our new generation of women explore what current American culture affords as totem animals…yet, is the apocalypse really such a bad thing? Maybe, the word “apocalypse” has been code, all along, for the failure of colonialism. I just saw a great herd of bison show up at Standing Rock Reservation, in answer to the prayers of thousands of all tribes, in solidarity. I dunno. There’s a trumpet blaring, a rooster crowing. The ocean, mother of us all, grows warmer, more acidic. Chinnook salmon, and smelt, are at risk of extinction. Somewhere, out there, Bernie Sanders walks the remote sand dunes of presidential exile, carrying with him the ways of the old masters. Pure waters rise, dead oil halts for a day. A thousand voices cry out!