Saturday, December 11, 2021

 "Before the Tribulation driving up Highway 5 from Grants Pass to Roseburg was about an hour's drive. Good road, rest stops, a little windy, a lot of up and down. Now it was an obstacle course. Cars abandoned or crashed into each other. Road trains mangled and blocking the road across all the lanes. Human remains in many of the vehicles. It was a nightmare. If we weren't fleeing from the nightmare in Grants Pass it would have dissuaded us from our trek, but we knew that there was no reprieve behind us. It took us about 10 hours to go 68 miles. It was dark by the time we got to Roseburg. I think it was late May, so that had to be after 9. We couldn't see much. Naturally, there were no city lights. We found an abandoned church and slept inside, feeling somehow safer in a House of God."

"Just before dawn we were woken by a gunshot as one of our sentries died near a smashed window. We all grabbed rifles and took positions where we could shoot back. There were about 40 men outside. They were in worse shape than we were. I could see signs of radiation poisoning in several of them (I recognized it because I had seen a lot of it first hand very recently). They all looked starving and desperate. We started shooting back and my focus just became what was in front of me. Fire, duck, shoot again, look out for the guy sneaking behind the shed over there, shoot again, pull the trigger and curse because the magazine is empty. Reload, shoot again. I don't know how long the fire-fight lasted. It might have been 10 minutes. It might have been an hour. It felt like days. Eventually they ran away, realizing we had numbers and fire-power, I guess. I know that two bullets I fired killed men I didn't know. I know that two of my friends were dead and several more were wounded. The women patched them up as well as they could. We took a look outside. Fred took a team on the west side of the church, I took a team on the east side. I heard one gunshot from the west and we went running. Fred said that one of the attackers was still alive and tried to shoot him, so he killed him. The other boys with him looked pretty scared, of Fred. They didn't say anything, but I got the idea that Fred didn't wait for the guy to pick up a gun."


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Mother Rainbow's Children: The Cave

Wednesday, December 8, 2021

 February 3, 2033.

My 9th Birthday, 5 years to the day from when the sky was clear and blue. I suppose I ought to say who I am and why I have this journal. My name is Sarah. My parents died during the Nuclear Winter (that's what Uncle Ronald called the Dark Time), along with pretty much every one else we knew. I don't have a lot of memories of all that. Uncle Ronald isn't really my Uncle, but he knew my parents pretty well. We lived in a cabin on Ronald's parents property here, near Comptche. Ronald used to visit from Sacramento because he was working on some sort of project for the Mendocino County Museum. That's when he met my parents and helped them move to his parent's place. Anyway, when the bad times started, Ronald moved here to stay near his folks and to get away from the city. When people started dying of the Poisons, Ronald and I were the only ones left. Ronald was staying in this stone cabin and he took me in. We have our own spring in the cave in back and Ronald brought all of the canned food and well packaged food stores he could find here. We had a toilet, water, food, mini-hydro for lights and the hot plate. We just stayed inside for a couple of years until the sky was blue again. Today Ronald gave me this journal. He found a stack of them down in Mendocino Village. He wants me to start recording history. He says that what I say will be important years from now, cause things are starting over and he says I'll be one of the founders. He said to write as well as I know (he's pretty fussy about that, being a professor and all). I guess that's enough for starters.

Bobcat read it again, and then again. If he remembered right, Mother Rainbow's name was Sarah before she changed it. He was sitting in a cave, reading a journal by a little girl named Sarah who survived the Dark Times with her Uncle. Could this indeed be Rainbow Cave!? Could this be the very journal of Mother Rainbow's!? Bobcat kept reading. He could not stop himself.

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Mother Rainbow's Children: The Cave



Monday, November 1, 2021

 The World went to hell. A perfect storm and stubborn politicians set up the world for catastrophe. In one small corner of California, in Mendocino county, on Comptche Road, a man and a young girl survived the long darkness in a cave. They found other survivors and gradually built a village. The girl, who came to be known as Mother Rainbow, also came to be their leader.

Now, three hundred years later, a young woman named Alder wants to find that cave. She and her young man, Bobcat, find the truth and overcome the obstacles to their own romance.

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Monday, October 25, 2021

“The World went to Hell. From greed, from stupidity, from valuing artificial things more than the nature around them, our ancestors destroyed the world. Great cities, larger than we can even imagine; great nations spanning continents; great business enterprises encompassing the whole world; communications that circled the globe and even had equipment in space above us; medical knowledge able to fix broken hearts, broken kidneys, broken lungs, and broken minds; all of it gone because they had to fight, they had to burn oil and coal, they had to make plastics, they had to dam the rivers, they had to cut down the forests, they had to hunt animals to extinction, and all of that was more important than survival. All of that was more important than caring for each other, looking after the troubled, taking care of the natural world, or simply being in it...” Three hundred years later Alder is seeking the true story of how their ancestors survived. She meets a young man named Bobcat and together they find the answers.



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Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Here is the pilot for my new radio show, MacAmergin's Tales on KLLG-LP 97.9 Willits Hometown Radio. I hope to post the new one each week. I have 5 more to get up after this one. Many thanks to Les Tarr for making this work!



Saturday, January 23, 2016

The Warning - A poem by Liam UiCearbhaill

In 1997 I woke up one night in September and wrote this poem in about 15 minutes. It has had a deep impact on my life ever since.


This poem is in the collection Poetry's Purpose

Available for Kindle download at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YX2VZ78

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Available for purchase at The Book Juggler http://www.thebookjuggler.com/store.php

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The Warning

In days of yore, in depths of time
When all the world was wholly mine
The beasts and birds, the rolling grass
The vales and streams, the mountain pass

The sky above, the sea below
The arctic ice where blizzards blow
T’was then, in joy in all that was
I clear conceived a wondrous cause

To know a creature who could see
All the things that came from me
A sunset’s glow and waterfalls
A stormy night and lightning balls

Who’d wonder at the evening star
And question what those night lights are
Who’d gasp with joy at canyons grand
And seek the peace of seashore sand

I molded him from primate clay
And shaped her spirit for the day
When moved by beauty seen without
Her soul within would leap to shout

And he, from urgings deep inside
Sung music that his soul had cried
I gave them minds to grasp a thought
And hands to grasp the things they wrought

For forty thousand years or more
On tundra steppe and forest floor
They lived as part of what I’d made
In cave and hut, with chipped stone blade

Their lives were hard, but still were good
I gave them joy, I gave them food
I gave them beauty in the land
They gave me thanks with both their hands

They hunted for the bison strong
And gathered grains from grasses long
They saw my moon hung in the sky
And watched the eagle circling high

They learned the way of beast and bug
Of mastodon and trout and slug
They learned which plants would heal their woes
The willow’s bark, the hips of rose

In gratefulness they slew their prey
Then, thankful for their food that day
Expressed their thanks in art and dance
Or mimicked there the elk-herd prance

Or left the earth some pretty gift
Upon some seaward facing cliff
They knew that all the things they ate
Were gifts to them from Heaven’s gate

Then once, ten thousand years ago
A bag of seed was somehow sowed
Upon a patch of broken dirt
As hunters did with farming flirt

And someone caught a baby cow
And raised it to adult somehow
And ever after changed the face
Of how did live the human race

No longer did you hunt and seek
To find the things that you would eat
But rather did you farm and herd
Taming tree and beast and bird

You owned the things that once were mine
The hillock high, the vale sublime
You chained the streams and rivers too
Built dam, canal, and lock, and slough

You carved my land for highways long
Bored tunnels deep through mountains strong
You killed my bison for their hides
And filled my streams with pesticides

You filled my sky with stench and smoke
And caused my creatures all to choke
You spilled my oil upon my sea
And killed my whales, so huge and free

To fill your pockets with my gold
You tore down mountains tall and bold
And scarred my earth to dig my coal
With piles of slag and gaping holes

You claimed that all you saw was thine
To kill and maim, to dig and mine
You set yourselves apart from me
And o’er my world claimed sovereignty

How patiently I watched you grow
Who once did hunt and now did sow
I spoke to you by prophets bold
Who for your wayward ways did scold

You built up temples large and grand
And slaughtered for me beast and man
And by these things you sickened me
Bu still I left you growing free

So then you found creative ways
To send each other to the grave
With sword and spear and bomb and gun
With gas and germs, you’ve had your fun

You filled my sky with birds of war
You filled my ears with cannons' roar
With chemicals you killed my trees
That snipers you might better see

My patience now draws to an end
No longer can I call you friend
You threaten all that I have made
The tidal pool, the forest glade

And with that worst monstrosity
You threaten all that you can see
For on that fateful Summer day
When Hiroshima went away

You told me that I could not trust
The human race and that I must
Protect my world from what you are
A cancer and a source of war

The end is near, do not delude
Yourselves or cop an attitude
But if you seek to still survive
Then turn to me to live your lives

You share the rock on which you stand
You do not own the sea or land
The air about you is not thine
Nor rivers as they sea-ward wind

You do not own the grass and trees
The birds and beasts belong to me
The mountains high, the valleys low
Are mine to tend the things they grow

My anger grows with every puff
Of factory smoke or toxic stuff
Dumped in rivers dammed and stopped
With dirt and slag, with muck and glop

With every tree that’s sacrificed
To print an ad for PC mice
Or jungle burned for farming land
Or dolphin killed for tuna canned

The end is near, be not deceived
Despite what some of you believe
I can defend what is my own
Your self-defense is overblown

Catastrophes will come from me
Your scientists will never see
And when the human terror ends
I will begin my world to mend