My Last Breath

My Last Breath

Your lips

cloud soft

storm moist

safe haven

I kiss

and all

all

is good

bye.

Occupy Street Medic

It has been almost a half year since my last post on this blog, and almost 9 months since I arrived in New York City. I have been living on the streets at Union Square for the last 4 of those months. Look at the beard -- where's the black gone?

I am a street medic with Occupy. I started at Zuccotti Park on October 1st, 2011, and am still going strong. I lived and worked in Zuccotti during that Occupation, and have continued working as a street medic in our exile wherever there are are Occupiers in New York City. Many, many medics have come and gone. I miss some of them very much. I work alone most of the time now -- yes, that means I am a rogue street medic. Get over it. One medic is better than no medics. Here in Union Square I am basically an Occupy Medic, or village shaman. I have a community that knows me, and I know them. We share the travails and tribulations -- and there are many each and every day here on the Occupied streets and in the Occupied parks. I am on duty 24/7 -- everyone here knows where to find me, and often I am awoken in the middle of the morning's night to rush down the lonely New York City streets to tend to a fallen comrade. Life on the streets is harsh.

I have used up all my life savings, and have no income of any kind. I live off the kindness of strangers, and the loving thanks of all in my Occupy Union Square & Occupy Wall Street community. However, my community is full of people who have come to the end of their resources as well. I, and they, rarely get a balanced meal (maybe, just maybe, once a month). Donated medical supplies are sometimes abundant, but not always what I need. I cannot help my community with the necessary medical supplies, foods and herbal supplements. For that I need money. Please consider donating so I can upgrade the care I can give (see donation buttons in the sidebar). Without donations I will eventually run out of medical supplies and herbals. My herbals are incredibly important in this work, and they do not come cheap here in 1% Land. There is no OWS-Medical anymore to help me out with supplies or buddy-medics. I am on my own here in Union Square (thankfully, Kareem stops by for the day every now and again, but otherwise . . . on my own). I need your help. Help me maintain the health of all the Occupiers in New York City. Help me give them the emergency first aid and continuing care the frontline soldiers of this peaceful revolution deserve. Be proud of them, for they are the ones we have been waiting for. Help me help them.

Occupy everywhere! Occupy everything! Occupy together!

You can keep track of what I am currently doing over at Occupy Trinity Wall Street

Tidal: Occupy Theory, Occupy Strategy

Tidal:

Occupy Theory, Occupy Strategy

Occupy!

Please read Tidal, the magazine of Occupy Theory & Strategy, on the original website: http://occupytheory.org/Home.html, or download the issue as a .pdf file: http://occupytheory.org/TIDAL_occupytheory.pdf

Pictured is Lauren from Sanitation, perhaps the hardest working and most earnest Occupier.

.

Occupied Communique #9

Dear Unity,

East New York. I have been at the Occupied Real Estate at 702 Vermont Street much of the past couple of weeks. I spent New Year's Eve as an Occupier, the only Occupier, holding down the house. That night, while over a thousand live rounds were fired off from this street at a police helicopter, I was sprawled out in the 'community room' monitoring 3 Livestream broadcasts of the rally at Liberty Park. Using Livestream and our medic dispatch system I was able to provide real-time information to the medic teams on the ground in Manhattan. It is a system we will now use for all actions.


I had planned to be at the rally working as a medic, but as it happened there was to be no coverage at 702 Vermont. We occupy the house 24 hours a day so the police can't sneak in and blockade the house. All the other Occupiers who are normally here were off celebrating the new year and our new future. So I took off my red & black crosses and settled down to a night of occupying. Police sirens, like banshee cries, occupied the night outside non-stop all evening, all night, and all morning.

I was outside smoking a rollie of pipe tobacco when the shooting started. It sounded like fireworks, with groups of explosions bursting in the night sky. But when someone fired off a few rounds from a semi-automatic rifle just a few yards away I realized all the 'fireworks' were actually gunshots. Their target? A police helicopter criss-crossing the neighborhood like a wasp on the hunt.

I was safe.

Time to play the race card . . . I have the lightest skin tone in the neighborhood by several shades, and I don't speak the language on the street. I am immediately recognizable as an outsider, one of the oppressors. Yet, I have walked all through this neighborhood and have been met only with friendship and kindness. Hearty greetings of "Good morning, brother, how are you?" and "Happy new year, God bless you." follow me everywhere. Conversations and smiles follow. It doesn't matter the time of day or night -- I got lost one midnight-time for a couple hours, wandering about without a clue to where I was, alone and confused. New York is a big city. It is easy to lose one's way. Eventually I found someone who knew where Vermont Street is, and he directed me straight to my destination. As it happened, I had twice come within two short blocks of Vermont Street, but hadn't known it. On the other hand, I had also walked back up two subway stops the wrong way. And while the people on the sidewalks were friendly, the police in the street would only slow their cars and watch me -- driving away when I called out to them.

I am an Occupier. The people know it. The police know it. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt who my friends are -- the people.

Race card? Yeah. One race, the human race. What is happening here? Class war. This ain't about race, yo. This is about the robber barons who have stolen the wealth, destroyed the land and want to steal our lives away also. They will not stop until they have all the resources, have destroyed Mother Earth in the process, and have reduced us to wage-slaves under constant threat of becoming homeless. They will not stop until they have subjugated us all. We are still serfs in their eyes, and in their minds they are still our masters.

They have a lesson to learn. We are the 99%. We are not going home. We are home. We are coming for the 1%. We will not be turned away. We will change the world, we will save the world . . . now! This is the year everything changes. It will be a wild ride, and I have a front row ticket. Come join me!

I am still cold, wet and miserable much of the time, but I am still having the time of my life!

Obama signed the NDAA and SOPA. Everyone here knows we are the targets. Everyone here knows whose side Obama is on. Everyone here knows who the FEMA camps are for. Everyone here is still here. Yes, we are afraid. No, we are not going to hide. We are the good guys, yo, and the people know it.

Occupy everything!


Best Regards,

Ed Mortimer

"Only when the last tree has died
 and the last river been poisoned
   and the last fish been caught
             will we realize
      we cannot eat money."

            -Cree Wisdom-