>From: mleger@panix.com (Mark Leger) >Date: Sun, 14 Aug 1994 22:24:58 -0500 CYBERSISSIE NUMBER TWO Well, it looks like too many people didn't get the joke - "ThyberThithie" as a name for this electron stream has been trashed in favor of the more immediately recognized "CyberSissie." Although we can always change our minds, if anybody feels strongly about TT. Girls, let's mount a revolt to reinstate lisping! Has anybody else out there had to endure years of speech therapy in grade school? My nickname was "Wabbit" because I was always walking around muttering "The WA-WA-Rabbit Wa-Wa-Ran ah-wound the Weh-Weh-Weh-Red Wa-Wa-Wa-Rock." I also had to "work on" my "S's" and my stuttering. Never getting it right, afraid of being called on to speak in class because the *teacher*, more than the other students, gave me hard time. Maybe that's why I still have a hard time speaking in circle... Edi-Trix has been back for two weeks from the Amber Fox Gathering in Ontario. What an amazing place! Edi-Trix has never been so moved at a gathering. The land, the facilities, the people... However, there was _no_ dish. As Agnes said, and has she was repeatedly quoted, "This is a boring gathering." ...Except Paul Couillard did bring up something about a two month long faerie art event extra-ava-gonzo in Toronto sometime in 1995. Careful Paul that you don't piss off the Euro-Faeries by double scheduling. Although, if need be, Edi-Trix will buy commuter tickets on the Concorde to go to both events. (Listen, it beats the Syracuse bus station at 2 AM in the morning, which was the final leg of my journey. What can I say, Penn Stations on Qualudes. But enough digression...) The Amber Fox-ees had just finished building the dining wing, aka the Foreskin, to the Permanent Erection, which is the Amber Fox kitchen, living room, and cruising (yes dears, a lot!) center. The whole building was just such a pleasant place to relax and chat with faeries from southeast Canada and northeast US. The land is wonderfully beautiful and varied - meadows and swamps and forests. An amazing sanctuary. So I'm back for four weeks before going to Blue Heron -- four weeks is just long enough to get New Yorker-ized to the point where it'll take me 5 days to recover my groundedness at Blue Heron. And let's hope that there is more dish at Big Bird... Anyway, we have enough in this issue as it is: ANNOUNCEMENTS TITANIA AT JUDSON, a ritual memoir by Titania ECSTASY, an article by Endora MY GAY TRIBE, part 2 of White Eagle's gathering memoir ANNOUNCEMENTS ABOUT CS Cyber.Sissie is an e-zine with a sisterly association to Faerie.Gram, the newsletter of the New York Radical Faerie Circle. The internet address for CS is: mleger@panix.com To subscribe to ThyberThithies end an e-mail to mleger@panix.com, and please put "SUBSCRIBE CYBER.SISSIE," some such in the subject line. Paper submissions should be sent to the Faerie.Gram address, which is: Faerie.Gram P.O. Box 150296 Brooklyn, NY 11215-0296 Cyber.Sissie will not transmit any material that is copyrighted or of a commercial nature. CENTRAL NEW YORK RADICAL FAERIE CIRCLE MOVES, TOO! The Central NY Radical Faeries have relocated to greener pastures in Ithaca, New York. To reach them via mail: Central New York Radical Faeries PO. Box 3982 Ithaca, NY 14850 Faerie.Gram and FaeriePhone been receiving inquiries about a gathering in Harriman Park in upstate NY partially hosted by the CNYFC that was apparently canceled at the last minute. We don't know what happened, but if you write the CNYFC, maybe someone there can give you the dish. And can somebody let us know? CALL FOR NORTHEAST U.S./NEW YORK GRAND FAERIE CIRCLE Sunday, September 18, 2:00 pm at the Lesbian & Gay Community Center, 208 West 13th Street, NYC A circle with an agenda, namely, what about establishing a faerie not-for-profit thingy like Nomenus out here in the Northeast (or locally in New York)? A couple reasons: 1. (faerie chaos)- With Stonewall 25's expenses, the Faerie.Gram's ongoing financial scramble, Destiny Lodge's fundraising efforts, the Whole Earth community's call for funds, moneys collected at the Walnut Hill January 1994 gathering being distributed, and FaeriePhone being bankrolled by a single NYC faerie, a couple of anonymous faeries are calling a circle to clear up the mysteries surrounding the various and sundry pools of faerie dough. Who has money that has been earmarked as "faerie money?" What are they doing with it? Who needs it? Should we think about ways to coordinate it? 2. (faerie futures)- We weren't able to buy Destiny Lodge. Sad, but inspiring if you look at the commitment and agility with which faeries demonstrated their support for sanctuary. But let's be ready next time, with a faerie land trust in place ready to snatch opportunity and give it a big wet one (along with a crisp paper check). If you are a faerie who has access to or responsibility for any faerie cash, you are particularly urged to attend this circle, or at least pass along the answers to some of the above questions to someone who is going to the circle. Or call FaeriePhone and leave a message. SHORT MOUNTAIN'S FALL FROLIC AND HARVEST FESTIVAL! September 30-October 9 Gotta love those Southern Faeries! Short Mountain's gatherings are [in]famous, and well worth the trip (or trips). Ask anyone who's been there.... Pre-registration is strongly encouraged. There is a sliding scale registration fee ($25-$75) and the gathering costs $8.00/day. And remember, no one is turned away for lack of funds. To obtain a registration form, contact: SMS Rt. 1 Box 84-A Liberty, TN 37095 WING YOUR WAY TO EUROPE NEXT SUMMER Things seem to be coming together for summer 1995 for a faerie gathering (the first???) in Europe- probably in Holland or western Germany in either July or August. Anyone interested in bringing their north american faerie energy to this gathering would be most welcome. We have some preliminary planning circles this month and will have more particulars by the fall. Any one interested please be in touch with John Ferguson (aka "Lekker Ding") at jaf3@amvoice.hackti.nl PUBLICATIONS For those of you still into killing trees, here are some worthwhile arboreal sacrifices. *Ritual Submission* Circle Cithaeron, a teaching collective and scholar's circle following an eldrytch tradition of deep ecology and personal empowerment, in association with Stamen, Circle Cithaeron's gay men's group, request your submission. They are about 3/4 of the way finished with a manuscript of queer pagan rituals called _Q MOON RISING: Radical Rituals for Radical Faeries_, which they hope to begin marketing by the end of this year [Edi-Trix comments hmmmmm]. They've organized the rituals around a seasonal focus. They are also sure that some of the rituals performed and recorded by you, dear reader, are even more interesting than the ones they've currently included in their book, and they would like, with your permission, to share them with their forthcoming audience. While they probably won't be able to compensate you financially (there's not a huge market for books of queer pagan rituals), they will provide complimentary copies to each contributor whose material they use, and they promise to provide proper credit in the text for all material that is not theirs. To submit, send your materials to: Cithaeron/Moonweb Post Office Box 15461 Washington, DC 20003 *Salt and Sage* A Sacred Faerie Circle of Salt Lake City magazine published eight(ish) times a year to correspond with the "Turn of the Wheel" by a faboo flutter of Radical Faeries. Fun and full of personality. They said nice things about New York faeries and the Faerie.Gram in their last issue, so we thought we'd plug them. To get on their mailing list, send $8 cash or check payable to "Jimmy Hamamoto for S&S" to: Salt & Sage 165 Regent Salt Lake City, UT 84111 *Draghead* Published three times a year. Fabulous, literary and artistic. Great photographs that appear in Faerie.Gram first. We stole their Summer issue format, so they deserve a plug, too. (And who doesn't?) This Canadian powerhouse will blow you away. (Especially if Bambi writes mean things about you, in the name of "exploration of fey art.") To get on their mailing list [and donations (about $2/issue) are appreciated; make cheques payable to Jules Chamberlain] write: Draghead c/o Amber Fox Sanctuary Box 65 McDonald's Corners ON CANADA K0G 1M0 *Moonweb* We haven't seen this one, but it sure sounds pretty cool. It's published by Circle Cithaeron/Stamen in Washington, DC. It's an occasional (about 5 times a year) mailing of synchronous rituals designed to be worked simultaneously by groups and solitaries across the world. Moonweb is free for the cost of postage; 2 US. domestic stamps or their equivalent for each issue that you would like to receive. Address inquiries (with a business SASE) to: CITHAERON POB 15461 Washington, DC 20003 SMASHING COMETS - DELILAH WANTS TO KNOW Delilah is interested in surveying the effects of the Jupiter-Shoemaker-Levy comet collision which occurred July 18-24. Especially (but not only) for Sagittarians, or people who were born on the last few days of each month or (if you've got your chart done) people with planets in 3 [degree sign] - 7 [degree sign] of any sign. If any insights came to you, during or after the collision, please write me and include, _if you'd like any_ of the items below: - your birth date - place & time of birth - your name my discretion is guaranteed. Please mail it to: Delilah c/o Short Mountain Sanctuary Rt. 1, Box 84A Liberty, TN 37095 ************************************************************** TITANIA WEEPS FOR THE GREAT LADY: Titania writes about the Judy Garland Funeral Ritual, Saturday June 28 at Judson Memorial Church in Manhattan The room was as big as a temple, and the drums of the Faeries reached to the height of the domed ceiling. A huge circle was cast, and a hundred Faeries raised their arms to invoke the elements. Then the Lady appeared. The greatest of Great Ladies. She Who Rose from Destruction a Thousand Times. She Whom Death Could Not Conquer. She who sang of Sorrow and Grief. The Tormented One. She Who Knew the Answer Lay in Her Own Backyard. The Lady of the Divine Slipper. Judy Herself was present. Across a marble stage, up marble stairs, above the gaze of Those Who Love Her, She appeared, pleased to join the body of a drag queen named Joan. Joan, who now served as temple for the Goddess. The frenzy and adulation of the Faeries was tremendous: they who lovingly donned their finest drag to welcome Her. First, She sang to them of Her sadness and yearning. Then, when all hearts present throbbed with emotion, She, Judy in Joan, did die. The Faeries were filled with anguish and despair. Wailing rose now to the ceiling. Gentle attendants arranged Her body on Her golden bier bedecked with gauze and motley. "Hail to the Goddess," one did whisper. Again the drums beat, tambourines rang. The bier was lifted, and Her people carried Her around the great hall. They pranced and whirled in their frenzy of sorrow. They clapped their hands and wailed. They threw their veils into the air with excess of feeling. Around and around they went. Then, when the room could hold no more, down the stairs they carried Judy and out to the street. Doors burst open onto Washington Square Park and across the street they carried Judy, Her attendants bearing Her body and thronging behind, singing and calling all to come. Through the park and to every corner they carried Judy so that all might see Her crossing. Then, with ceremony, they lay Her on a barbecue pit. Followers gave items to be blessed by the Goddess so newly departed. Hundreds of people crowded to watch as the Faeries' frenzy grew. They pounded on the earth. They danced the snake-dance through the crowd. They shouted in great unison, "Stonewall was a riot!" When angry Lesbians challenged them on the grounds that the park was Womyns' space, the Faeries again raised their sorrowful burden. Up the street they went, intent upon Sheridan Square. Not a cop dared to stop them. Their numbers grew as their procession wound on. Past Sheridan Square and the Stonewall Inn Judy travelled. Twice Her followers were turned from Seventh Avenue by cops, but Judy would not be stopped. On the third essay, the cops were forced to stop traffic for Judy. Her train crossed the avenue. She returned to the heart of Her tribe, Christopher Street. Two heralds ran ahead, to warn Her people of Her coming. Near the Lucille Lortel Theatre they lay Judy down to Ohm and sing of over the rainbow. Outside the Archives Building they ran in a block-long spiral dance. They carried Judy as far as they could, to the end of the Christopher Street pier. There Those That Love Her gave Her back to the universe which had sent Her. And there, in reward for their devotion, She of the Throbbing Voice conquered Fate once more and rose to triumph. She left Her bier and was with the Faeries again. They hollered their joy to the moon. And they sang to Her, and She to them, through the night. ****************************************************************** THE POWER OF ECSTASY by Endora It is easy to criticize the system, to blast the patriarchy, to despise the gay-normals who "represent" the queer community to the straight world. It is easy to find fault, but it is not so easy to offer the community an alternative. I don't mean theories and speeches and words and essays about alternatives. I mean to really manifest an alternative for everyone to see.. Yet, that is exactly what the Radical Faeries managed to do during Stonewall 25, and I believe it is the most powerful magical act I have ever seen. At the Drag March, when we confounded activists and police alike by spiral dancing and singing and line-kicking our way through a protest and down to the piers. At the Judy Procession, when we engaged hundreds of people who had no idea who we were in an experience that showed them that what is most campy and fun can also be the most profound and political. And at the March itself, when with our puppets and our naked and festooned bodies we created a moving celebration of Gay Spirit. Each of those times, we manifested a powerful alternative to both the "We're Just Like You-Please Accept Us" Official Gays and the "How-Can-You-Have-Fun-This-Is-A-War" Activists. We manifested ECSTASY and JOY and CHAOS and LOVE in a way that everyone could see and feel, and in so doing, we presented the community with the most powerful tool we have - our Queer Spirits celebrating. Those that got it joined us. Those that didn't knew we were something 'dangerous'. The press certainly knew it when we were the only group mentioned in every paper, and our pictures were prominent in the press. By reveling and chanting the Goddess Chant in front of Saint Patrick's, we experienced the profundity of the alternative to the patriarchal oppression of spirit that Church represents, instead of venting our rage at it. . We didn't scream "shame shame shame," or some other slogan, or sing "Bring Back the Snakes." We simply grooved on Dionysian Ecstasy. In the presence of that ecstastic rite, the Church, the Police, the Power-Over became irrelevant, because we had found a deeper freedom. Ecstasy threatens the whole system. The system is based on convincing people that what is ecstatic and pleasurable is really "dangerous," "disrespectful," "rude", "evil." or worse. We Faeries have learned through our many paths and through coming together away from the hetero-world that it is none of those things. It is the foundation of a life of spirit and joy. It is radical politics and its deepest level - it challenges the system and its root, and then provides an alternative vision. We Faeries should be very proud of ourselves, and we should work to build on what we accomplished during that week. We have a great gift to offer our community -The Power and the Politics of Ecstasy. They're ready. Are We? ***************************************************** GAYTRIBE, part 2 A gathering journal by White Eagle Dinner was plentiful. I felt like I had just woken up from a fresh nap. I greeted and chatted and felt electricity all about. My plate was piled up with a vegetarian assortment that was both inviting and mysterious. Without thinking about much, I started picking up plates and moved into the kitchen. Dandelion had left. So I moved up to the sink and faced the dishwasher. At least there was hot water. No three basin trick of bleach hot and cold as at Goodspeed Farm. Grinning to myself, I pulled off my shirt. Feeling brazen and bold I walked up to the sink. And suddenly to my right appeared, oh yes I called him Dahlia. He looked up at me. I remembered him as I had payed close attention to him walking out of the Sweat Lodge. I moved up to him and started massaging his back. He stiffened and muttered: "I'm not User Friendly". I moved back, thinking... "Oh shucks back out here again.." The dishes piled up and I frantically started on the pile. I sensed a body getting close. Strong young hands started to massage my back. Arms reaching in between mine. And then I felt my nipples being squeezed. Familiar feeling that. Ah yes.. Robert is here. Tall wonderful Robert. He had nonchalantly unzipped my tent and cheerfully called out to me at 2:00 AM last Fall. His wonderful hands across my back, and his latex crotch against my buns. What a way to do dishes.. The evening quickly passed. I chatted and strolled about. Finally it was time for bed. The couch that I had placed my stuff on was now bare of any pillows. It was a short studio couch and was over-stuffed and too short for anything but sitting. I had to do something else. I found a wall. Unrolled my pad and pulled from the bag, my wonderful Red Silk Down Sleeping Bag. I stripped and covered myself. Head sticking out and close to the floor. It was a cruel night. Further ahead down the hallway, I could see legs sticking out from under a blanket. And now and then, was I imagining things or was the blanket rising and falling? I was falling off. Slowly dozing. Then the floor would creak. I would barely glance up to see figures in the darkness, the floor creaking. And each time, the light from the only rest room on that floor shooting a ray of light near my pad. I must have slept. But all night, I was mad. How come I don't have a bunk or a better place.. And then I realized that all the men were having sex and in my location, I would have a procession passing by all night. That is exactly what happened. Mornings are not very structured at Gatherings. Tired bodies usually lay about, but it isn't until late morning until things start happening again. I had heard of Body Electric and Erotic Massage. In fact I had lots of fun with outside massages with the gay naturists I had spent a week in PA with last summer. After a couple cups of coffee and idle chatter with a few, I headed for the Meeting Room again. This time the floor had been covered with a cloth and an overlayer of clear plastic. It looked like the Massage session was about to begin. We were at least 30. All dressed and some of my favorite bodies were in the room. I'm a nudist so I don't need a series of events to drop my pants, but I sensed by the nervous looks that others were not as comfortable with nudity as I was. The Moderator was excellent. He gave us a little background information, mentioned that we would be going through a series of group dynamics that usually took two days and that the objective was for us to get to know each other. Individual freedom and open minds was stressed. We moved to the center of the room and separated into two circles. The inner circle was a little larger then the outside circle. After some coaching, we started moving clockwise wise in the center and they moved counter clockwise on the outside. At first it was just looking at faces with full eye contact.Then we shook hands and introduced ourselves, also with eye contact. It was a different face each time, and a different hand. But slowly I sensed more confidence. I was relaxed and I was pleased to see that the background music and the dynamics were working. The group was relaxed. The Moderator left the circle and started placing oil bottles on the floor. Things were about to change. We stopped and listened to the instructions. We would introduce ourselves and shake a hand and give close eye contact. But this time, the person facing us would undress us. The outer row moved and I was faced with a beautiful young man, in his late 20's. He smiled and I smiled in return. His hand was firm. I threw my cap against the wall and he looked at me, curious.. I felt him getting closer and I raised my arms over my head. Slowly I sensed he was raising my shirt over my head. As the shirt passed above my face, I was able to glance at him and see a smile and what I hoped was appreciation for my upper torso expressed on his face. He then bent down and started working on my laces. For a minute, I thought of my cock. Wondering if it would behave and stay respectfully dormant. After my boots, he raised his head and looked up slowly and gently started pulling down my tights. I had a grin on my face. I had wool bicycling tights with zippers inside near my ankles. He was pretty clever, he noticed them and zipped them up.. I helped him and got out of them. Then he tenderly pulled my briefs down. My cock felt normal, but I didn't dare look down to check it. And then he straightened out. He had blue eyes and looked at me very sweetly. He seemed resigned to being unveiled. (Grin) It didn't take me as long. He had a loose shirt and the fun part was undoing his belt and that beautiful experience of unzipping his zipper. His cock just sprang out as I dropped his pants. He was bare ass and had no briefs.. I pulled his pants down and was then able to take his shoes off. I then gave him a hug. Was it my imagination or was he hesitant to let me go? And the circle finished turning and we were told to move back. The Moderator started calling out series of number and pointing at each person. The number 3 was assigned to me. Slowly I realized that we would end up in threes. After a few minutes, all the 3's met. We were all about the same age. Shall I say in our fifties. Hairy mature men, in reasonable shape. And then the oil bottles were passed and instructions given and the massage started. Music was filling up the room, and I don't know about the others, but I was paying attention only to the two men in front of me.. Man1 was short and Man2 was tall. We agreed that Man1 would be first. He layed back and closed his eyes. We started hearing instructions: "If at all possible, keep a hand on his cock all the time, massage slowly and well. Don't forget spots. Above all, ask him what he wants done, and do it". I mentioned to them that I preferred practicing on somebody else as I was thinking that the later I go the better it will be. And we slowly went to work on Man1. He appeared very relaxed and the feeling of trust and fun along with the slow and easy music made for an enjoyable scene. His cock was about semi-erect and we took turns Man2 and I keeping it exercised. We would slowly rub oil around his glans and gently lift his shaft and rub under and around his testicles. Then the call came for the one being massaged to turn over. He did. I preferred him facing us. And then we started getting instructions for the "BIG DRAW". This was described as a Deep-breathing (Rebirthing) exercise where the individual who had just been massaged, would slowly accelerate his breathing, tense up and then hold his breath. We were told that once the breath was restored, if the body had been tensed up enough a warm and relaxing feeling would occur. Man1 slowly got ready and after his Big Draw, appeared pleasantly relaxed and happy. And then it was my turn. I'm pretty lean and muscular and I closed my eyes. It was a familiar feeling. You smell the oil and feel pressure over all parts of your body. Most of the feelings seemed to start in my crotch and work up to your head. They were very gentle. Before long I was oiled all over and feeling very relaxed. Then it came time for my Big Draw. I have participated in Rebirthing exercises and I enjoy the feeling of completely venting my system. I really think that the high you get with the rush of oxygen and the cardio-vascular rush is very interesting. I started rocking on my rear, elevating my legs and clenching my fists, with my arms spread out. At the signal, I bent my knees, clenched my fists and tightened up my whole body. I took a real deep breath and held it. When I let air rush back in, I felt flushed a little dizzy and had this floating feeling all over. It was scary. It was then Man2's turn. After his Big Draw, we were instructed to move to the middle of the room and just get close. We ended up in about 3-4 clusters. The energy passing through the bodies was something else. I was conscious of warmth and oily bodies. We had arms outstretched and slowly the circle got tighter and then as I suspected, I felt a hand on my oily cock. There was no effort to single anybody out. The touches and graspings were coming and going. The background music reached a higher pitch and then slowly I could see the group of men I was connected to, slowly starting to sway. What I remember next is leaving the room both flushed and excited. The closeness and sensations of that encounter were memorable. I did see engorged cocks but that just seemed to be incidental. I wasn't aware of anybody climaxing. At least I didn't and we had been instructed to be nonchalant about it and let it happen, if it had to. I remember most of all, the music, smell of oil, the mutual trust and most of all the feeling of skin tingling and visuals beyond anything I had ever experienced. Dinner happened again. This time I spent more time at the table. The cute blond guy I had met coming out of the sweat was asking me questions. And you know me, he got my life story and more. I loved the way his hair looked, his skin was bronzed and he had a great smile. Well were standing waiting. A couple of drummer-boys are waiting for the torch-bearers. I looked around and was surprised. Mostly everybody is getting involved in this one. It was billed as a Procession in the Night, into the Woods. The torch-bearers move on, the drum-beat begins, I let the line form and once close to 20 men have marched on, I fall in step and follow the line. It is a beautiful evening and I realize that we are on the path going to the sweat lodge. But the torch bearers walk beyond the lodge and as they reach the pond, they stand aside and raise their torches at an angle facing each other. The drum beat slows and then I look at the pond and realize that, all about are white sacks light up with candles inside. An area of probably 50 feet stretches out. And even an island in the middle of the pond is decorated. On the island is a snow mound and what looks like a statue. It has ornaments on its bodies and toys at its feet. It must be the Snow Fairie. I slowly start to slide along, total darkness with little bundles of light all around. My companions are all around. What a feeling, magical and beautiful. Night in the woods with friends all about. I see a group around some pots. I move in and walk up to the pot. I use the cup I'm carrying and fill my cup with a warm drink. On the snow mound, I see a tray with a fruit cake. Some kind Fairie hands me a piece. And like a magical Winter Scene, two fairies glide by on skates. I slide about and all of a sudden, a loud crack is heard. I guess the ice is struggling! A nervous giggle and arms hold on to other arms and we go for the island or the shore. And nothing happens. Slowly we relax. The scene slowly changes and the magic starts to fade. As I walk by the fire, I see the spent kerosene torches being sacrificed. What wonder and Faerie Majick.... Well Sunday is here. Some have left, but I'm laying on a mound of pillows again. The last Yooohoooo.. of the week-end just happened. Now as the faces move into the hall, I see friends, no longer strangers but brothers. And I start telling myself: "what a group.. and I was afraid to face up to this.." Again the talisman is passed around. This time it was a branch, freshly cut down to less then 14 inches. And each fairie introduces himself, talks about his adventures, his feelings and how they have experienced, once again, love, trust and community. Issues are raised, other Gatherings are discussed. One man particularly volunteers the information that for the past 4 years, since he has become HIV positive, the Faerie Family has energized him and kept him alive. Then a troubling thing happens. A weird apparition. I don't know his name, but he has shocking red/orange hair cut in a crew cut. He wears what I can only describe as a flashy striped bathrobe. Under his robe, I can see a womans one piece bathing suit. He wears the neck-strap dangling on his chest. And he moves in, grabs a chair and once the talisman gets to him, he starts a tirade that I will never forget. He is clearly unhappy, emotional, and scolds us all for not caring. It seems he has been upstairs tending to a sick man with AIDS! He says his piece and the whole atmosphere changes. Nobody talks. We all get up and form a circle. Outstretched arms reaching out. I can't see much. I have been crying. And then the circle starts to sway. Suddenly a young man pulls himself out of the circle and starts bobbing all around. As he passes each one of us, he taps our heads and yells "DUCK", But it's not always Duck as he passes the red/orange apparition, he taps his head and yells "GOOSE". It's a game. You have to catch the person who has tagged you or else you remain outside the circle. Or else you can run to the spot he vacated in the circle and be safe. We play this for a while and then the group breaks up. Well I'm driving back to Manchester. And I'm thinking about all this. It's now the following Thursday evening. Each day since leaving Walnut Hill, I have at some point stopped what I was doing, and focused on this story that I was detailing nightly. I've been thinking that somehow what happened to me last week-end was special. I remember a time when I was with a group of men. We called ourselves Cursillistas. That is Men who had made a Cursillo. Which is an intense Catholic group dynamic experience. I used to think of that as the high point in male to male emotional contact.. Now I realize that I am in Love with a tribe. That Radical Faeries with their disorganized little sessions and most of all their sincere feelings of cceptance for me have changed me. And most alarming to me of all, is the realization that the red/orange haired person was really a Christ figure that appeared. "Come forth, o children, under the stars, And take your fill of love! I am above you and in you. My ecstasy is in yours. My joy is to see your joy." - Aleister Crowley (Quoted on the First "Call")