[Amy Ray and I] both have this part of our brain that makes us think that everybody should and will be nice and friendly and forthcoming. And then we're completely disillusioned. We have all these grand plans. One of them is the Rolling Thunder Pussy Revue. There's all these women's festivals going on this summer, and we don't think they're as adventurous as they could be. Lilith Fair-right away, by the name, you know they aren't pushing the envelope hard enough.

The scary truth is, you have to scratch some veneer off to gauge where the moral fiber really is in certain pockets of society. It's raw. It's scary. But it gives us a place to work with.

If a politician is running in your local community who's pro-choice, who's feminist in their thinking, get behind them. Send them some money! If you have no money but have time, lick stamps!

We negotiate with chaos for some sense of satisfaction.

It's just hard to travel in the shadow of regret. In fact, it's so hard that I actually haven't left yet.

What makes you so lavish that you can afford to spend every sober moment feeling angry and bored?

I love my country, By which I mean, I am indebted joyfully, To all the people throughout its history, Who have fought the government to make right, Where so many cunning sons and daughters, Our foremothers and forefathers, Came singing through slaughter, Came through hell and high water, So that we could stand here, And behold breathlessly the sight, How a raging river of tears, Cut a grand canyon of light... Why can't all decent men and women, Call themselves feminists? Out of respect, For those who fought for this...