I've been watching today's Senate proceedings today and found myself very mindful of how this episode will play out in the history of our country. I Know now, definitively, how the activists in the Abolitionist Movement must have felt as the proponents of slavery roared and blustered in trying to justify their crimes against humanity. Like a dinosaur flailing as it sinks finally into the bog, Rick Santorum and his cohorts have made monkeys of us all today.
Marriage is a loving commitment between people who choose to build a life together. Whether they raise children or not has no bearing on the definition. We do not prevent barren individuals from marrying. We do not penalize those who choose not to procreate. Marriage is a bond of love, period.
Santorum brought charts and graphs and wailed about how "children need a mother and a father". His examples and descriptions of male and female roles were so old, so outmoded as to take on the appearance of satire. If only I could find this funny. The caveman scenario of "Me hunter, you gatherer" is not even born out in sociology, psychology or archaeology, but somehow I suspect he isn't up on the current research. He cannot see beyond his narrow vision of the "proper" roles in society for men and women. I agree that marriage is important, and that children are better off in loving stable homes with a loving parental relationship. I just don't happen to agree that the parents must be a male and a female. Children with two happy parents thrive, without regard to gender. Parenting is a skill, not an innate gift enhanced or limited by the presence of ovaries or testicles. You don't need one set of each to form a commitment. Wake up Senator- times have changed. As Ann Richards recently told Larry King "We need more loving families, not less." If a homosexual couples' marital bliss threatens your own union, that union must not have been so strong to begin with. The love of one couple does not diminish another. Frank Lautenberg (D- NJ) said it best - this is just gay bashing, and political posturing.
I'm also tired of hearing about the "5,000 year tradition of marriage". What you call tradition, I call 5.000 years of an unnatural social order, imposed by violence and maintained with draconian laws that have "traditionally" relegated women and children to the status of chattels. The same patriarchal, Old Testament laws these Christian Supremacists are so fond of are the source of the world's misery, women's poverty, children's undoing. Our American Taliban wants to keep women in America barefoot and pregnant with no control of their sexual destiny. This same Senate was informed this week that the slave trade is alive and well in America. Tens of thousands of human beings, mostly women and children, all poor, all desperate, are being smuggled into this country and sold on the blackest market ever conceived. They'd like you to believe that these subjects are unrelated, and will wail and moan at the implication that their cannon is of less than divine origin. Don't you believe it.
The same Old Testament that advocated violent imposition of strict laws of chastity and marriage also advocated slavery, the selling of daughters, the stoning of sinners, all calculated to achieve one goal : a patrilineal system of inheritance that would give men exclusive control of land and wealth. Mission accomplished. Now this body of old white men are in a panic because the old order - the one we as women never agreed to, the one that has and is enslaving us, keeping us in poverty, preventing us from having a voice or an equal chance to thrive today, or even the most basic rights to control our own bodies.- that order is over. We aren't going to be bound by ancient and avaricious doctrine anymore.
We are blessed to be born in a country where we are all considered equal. We claim our right to love as we choose, to live as we choose, to raise our children, to love our partners with Liberty and Justice for ALL. The Constitution was designed to protect us all equally, with a specific eye toward protecting the rights of minorities from the tyranny of the majority. The courts have always been the vanguard of social change when the majority dragged its heels and clung desperately to the status quo. The LGBT community is a minority whose time has come. To those who would stand in the way of America's social evolution - shame on you. As we walk into the 21st century, let us do so together, with love and hope for every American family of every stripe.
Now where the hell is Osama Bin Laden?
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Monday, July 12, 2004
Tom Mauser's Petition to Renew the Assault Weapons Ban
Tom Mauser's Petition to Renew the Assault Weapons Ban
This man's son was Killed at Columbine High School. He's asking us to sign his petition to keep AK-47's off the streets.
Please sign. You don't need assault weapons to hunt deer.
This man's son was Killed at Columbine High School. He's asking us to sign his petition to keep AK-47's off the streets.
Please sign. You don't need assault weapons to hunt deer.
Listen to the Wise Woman
If you don't read Molly Ivins, you should. If you don't ever read another column of hers, read:
To the ladies in the room
Warning: Frank Luntz arms Bush with 'framing' devices to court the womens' vote -- Bush's anti-woman record be damned.
To the ladies in the room
Warning: Frank Luntz arms Bush with 'framing' devices to court the womens' vote -- Bush's anti-woman record be damned.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Thirty Years Later
Several posts below, Blog Sister Brooke Biggs asks for input -- 200 words or less. Well, I couldn't do it in even twice that many. But here it is, anyway:
It was 1975 and the first Stepford Wives movie had just come out, Ms Magazine was three years old, the book Fascinating Womanhood was getting big play, and the Vietnam War had just ended. I was a vocal feminist, a disgruntled housewife, a struggling mother, a war-protestor, and I thought that Gloria Steinham should rule the world.
Along with thousands of other women, I marched and argued for women’s rights – to choose, to earn salaries equal to men for equal jobs, to be treated with respect and collegiality, to share family chores with our spouses so that we could also pursue our career dreams. We were the ones who read Ms Magazine and stopped wearing bras. Some of us even burned them. We gathered together in what became known as "consciousness raising groups" as a way to explore ways to help ourselves and each other.
We couldn't understand why so many of our "sisters" were against our vision, our values. But plenty were. Not exactly Stepford Wives, but almost.
It's just about thirty years later. A new version of the Stepford Wives is out, with the villain, this time, a woman. Women against women.
Women are still trying to get equal pay for equal work, still fighting for the right to choose. Code Pink is out there marching and arguing and exploring ways to help ourselves and each other. But there’s also the strong media-enforced "Fascinating Womanhood" message of The Swan and all the women who watch and wanna be. Because that’s what they’re told men want. And the message we keep getting is that we can’t have a man and our true selves at the same time. It's an old message. It hasn't changed in generations.
What we still have not done right yet is convince enough women to turn away from buying into the values that historically have enabled male leaders to get and hold power. There are still too many women against women. What we have not done right yet is convince enough men that there are other and better ways to govern and relate and succeed. There are still too many men happy with their Stepford Wives. Too many women afraid to step off the pedestal, no matter how damaged and precarious they know it is. They are the ones who vote conservative.
I think we need to find a really good public relations firm to market our cause. Maybe we need to co-opt the tool of our successful antagonists and use it against them. And maybe we need a whole lot more Gloria Steinhem types.
Finally, some great Steinhem one-liners that, sadly enough, are still true thirty years later:
• I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.
• We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.
• Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry.
• Most women are one man away from welfare.
• A liberated woman is one who has sex before marriage and a job after.
• I don't breed well in captivity.
• A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space.
• If the shoe doesn't fit, must we change the foot?
• The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn.
• Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.
Certainly the last is true of me.
(cross posted on kalilily.net)
It was 1975 and the first Stepford Wives movie had just come out, Ms Magazine was three years old, the book Fascinating Womanhood was getting big play, and the Vietnam War had just ended. I was a vocal feminist, a disgruntled housewife, a struggling mother, a war-protestor, and I thought that Gloria Steinham should rule the world.
Along with thousands of other women, I marched and argued for women’s rights – to choose, to earn salaries equal to men for equal jobs, to be treated with respect and collegiality, to share family chores with our spouses so that we could also pursue our career dreams. We were the ones who read Ms Magazine and stopped wearing bras. Some of us even burned them. We gathered together in what became known as "consciousness raising groups" as a way to explore ways to help ourselves and each other.
We couldn't understand why so many of our "sisters" were against our vision, our values. But plenty were. Not exactly Stepford Wives, but almost.
It's just about thirty years later. A new version of the Stepford Wives is out, with the villain, this time, a woman. Women against women.
Women are still trying to get equal pay for equal work, still fighting for the right to choose. Code Pink is out there marching and arguing and exploring ways to help ourselves and each other. But there’s also the strong media-enforced "Fascinating Womanhood" message of The Swan and all the women who watch and wanna be. Because that’s what they’re told men want. And the message we keep getting is that we can’t have a man and our true selves at the same time. It's an old message. It hasn't changed in generations.
What we still have not done right yet is convince enough women to turn away from buying into the values that historically have enabled male leaders to get and hold power. There are still too many women against women. What we have not done right yet is convince enough men that there are other and better ways to govern and relate and succeed. There are still too many men happy with their Stepford Wives. Too many women afraid to step off the pedestal, no matter how damaged and precarious they know it is. They are the ones who vote conservative.
I think we need to find a really good public relations firm to market our cause. Maybe we need to co-opt the tool of our successful antagonists and use it against them. And maybe we need a whole lot more Gloria Steinhem types.
Finally, some great Steinhem one-liners that, sadly enough, are still true thirty years later:
• I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.
• We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.
• Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry.
• Most women are one man away from welfare.
• A liberated woman is one who has sex before marriage and a job after.
• I don't breed well in captivity.
• A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space.
• If the shoe doesn't fit, must we change the foot?
• The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn.
• Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.
Certainly the last is true of me.
(cross posted on kalilily.net)
Saturday, July 10, 2004
Take Action: Tell your Senators to Oppose the Discriminatory Federal Marriage Amendment
Take Action: Tell your Senators to Oppose the Discriminatory Federal Marriage Amendment
Also please visit my blog to read about why the religious movement behind the FMA is not to be taken lightly.
Also please visit my blog to read about why the religious movement behind the FMA is not to be taken lightly.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
How to Stop the Next War Now
I'm working on a book for CodePink about how to keep the momentum of the peace movement going, despite some major losses in the last two years. We've mobilized millions worldwide, but we still didn't stop the war. What did we do wrong? what could we do better next time? What is the unique role of women? Environmentalists? Direct-action? I'm soliciting personal thoughts and stories from women all over, and this includes you, BlogWomen. Keep it under 200 words and we could include it in the book.
Go over to my site to submit (easier for me to keep track) here.
Go over to my site to submit (easier for me to keep track) here.
Bush Birthday Haiku
With all the Kerry VEEP pick hoopla, Dubya's birthday was overlooked by many. But not by the DCCC and thousands of poetic Dubya fans.
Stepford Anybody?
I haven't seen the new remake of the Stepford Wives yet. I want to; I've been "saving" it to see with a friend of mine. I did see the original, long ago.
I've been a feminist probably as long as I've been a female. I've never questioned the idea that I have the right (not mere privilege) to have my own career, my own opinions, my own life. I married a man who agrees with me, and in fact, is almost more driven than I am in pursuing my career. I believe that my children, when I am ready to have them, will be enriched and strengthened by my independence and strength. If, for some reason of fate and destiny, I am unable to have my own biological children because I have waited a little longer than some women then I will adopt-- or go without. It probably goes without saying that I don't believe we have a biological imperative to reproduce-- I want children, very much, but am NOT willing to sacrifice my own life and my own happiness to have them.
"So what's your point?" you may be asking. "This is all obvious, and we figured this stuff out a long time ago about you."
About a week ago, one of my "relatives by marriage"-- a young man, not the typical old guy who pesters me every time I see him-- lectured me on the problem with "you career women." This lecture came suddenly, in the middle of another conversation, and I really had a hard time with the rudeness and ridiculousness of finding myself having the discussion. At first I thought he was joking; when I realized he was serious, I felt sick to my stomach.
Why he felt, based on a casual family relationship with me, that he had the right to lecture me when my husband and I have BOTH made the choices we made is infuriating. (I have had maybe one other serious conversation with the guy in the years I've known him so it's not like this was something that had precedent).
I did want to tell him to get stuffed, but for family peace, held my tongue. But he felt that it was perfectly alright to butt into my personal business and literally lecture me. He eventually said "Oh, it's just my opinion" but also said things like "That's the trouble with YOU". This was not a rhetorical discussion, and I did not invite his opinions, nor did I feel comfortable debating it with him.
Can you believe that there are still people who believe that merely because of their maleness they have a right to tell others what is right for their lives? And without any knowledge of my situation would feel justified in lecturing me? It makes the Stepford Wives feel much less like a science fiction speculation and much MUCH more scary.
originally published at Kim Procrastinates
*an interesting editorial about this is available at Women's E-News
I've been a feminist probably as long as I've been a female. I've never questioned the idea that I have the right (not mere privilege) to have my own career, my own opinions, my own life. I married a man who agrees with me, and in fact, is almost more driven than I am in pursuing my career. I believe that my children, when I am ready to have them, will be enriched and strengthened by my independence and strength. If, for some reason of fate and destiny, I am unable to have my own biological children because I have waited a little longer than some women then I will adopt-- or go without. It probably goes without saying that I don't believe we have a biological imperative to reproduce-- I want children, very much, but am NOT willing to sacrifice my own life and my own happiness to have them.
"So what's your point?" you may be asking. "This is all obvious, and we figured this stuff out a long time ago about you."
About a week ago, one of my "relatives by marriage"-- a young man, not the typical old guy who pesters me every time I see him-- lectured me on the problem with "you career women." This lecture came suddenly, in the middle of another conversation, and I really had a hard time with the rudeness and ridiculousness of finding myself having the discussion. At first I thought he was joking; when I realized he was serious, I felt sick to my stomach.
Why he felt, based on a casual family relationship with me, that he had the right to lecture me when my husband and I have BOTH made the choices we made is infuriating. (I have had maybe one other serious conversation with the guy in the years I've known him so it's not like this was something that had precedent).
I did want to tell him to get stuffed, but for family peace, held my tongue. But he felt that it was perfectly alright to butt into my personal business and literally lecture me. He eventually said "Oh, it's just my opinion" but also said things like "That's the trouble with YOU". This was not a rhetorical discussion, and I did not invite his opinions, nor did I feel comfortable debating it with him.
Can you believe that there are still people who believe that merely because of their maleness they have a right to tell others what is right for their lives? And without any knowledge of my situation would feel justified in lecturing me? It makes the Stepford Wives feel much less like a science fiction speculation and much MUCH more scary.
originally published at Kim Procrastinates
*an interesting editorial about this is available at Women's E-News
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
My Uterus, Myself.
I haven't smoked in five days. I am quitting. Really trying to. I'm going insane. I'm on hormones. No nicotine, a sweet child (whom I see as a ball of knotted hair and razors for a voice right now) on summer break, estrogen, and bloody bleeding.
Maybe I should go back a week or so.
Or a lifetime or so.
I've had fibroid trouble since puberty. I almsot died after having Jenna via c-section when I had to return for emergency surgery 8 weeks later due to the massive degeneration of my fibroids and hemmoraging. 6 hour surgery. Transfusion. 10 days in the hospital.
So, I'm still a little traumatized seven years later.
The bleeding has been back in full force the last couple of months. This month was so bad I'll spare you the details. The doctor is trying the pill again, along with some other tricks, but the trick is I'm 42, and I cannot, absolutely not, smoke on the pill. My last obgyn wouldn't even try the pill until I had quit for three months. This time, we didn't have that kind of time. So I quit five days ago when I started the hormones.
So, I've abandoned nicotine and started this hormone thing all in five days time. My head is spinning. My house is spinning. I walk around a lot. In a daze. Anything not to smoke. I really do have to quit. For more reasons than this.
I'm heading toward surgery--sooner or later (I'm hoping later)--since I'm getting more anemic from all of this bleeding. I went through hell to keep my uterus, but I'm beginning to accept that maybe it's time. Getting close to time.
But shit. Why am I so tied up with what my reproductive organs mean to me as a woman. I wept at the doctor's yesterday, and the sweet blood-taking lady aske what I was most afraid of. I said, surgery. And besides that, if hysterectomy becomes the ultimate answer, I feel like I will lose my womanhood, my woman-ness, my motherness, my tie to my child, the tug I feel RIGHT there when she's hurting or happy, I feel like I'll lose all of that.
And I know that's silly, but I know I'm hormonal, and I feel like a mess, and that's what it's like sometimes being a woman in your 40s.
sigh.
God, I want a cigarette.
Maybe I should go back a week or so.
Or a lifetime or so.
I've had fibroid trouble since puberty. I almsot died after having Jenna via c-section when I had to return for emergency surgery 8 weeks later due to the massive degeneration of my fibroids and hemmoraging. 6 hour surgery. Transfusion. 10 days in the hospital.
So, I'm still a little traumatized seven years later.
The bleeding has been back in full force the last couple of months. This month was so bad I'll spare you the details. The doctor is trying the pill again, along with some other tricks, but the trick is I'm 42, and I cannot, absolutely not, smoke on the pill. My last obgyn wouldn't even try the pill until I had quit for three months. This time, we didn't have that kind of time. So I quit five days ago when I started the hormones.
So, I've abandoned nicotine and started this hormone thing all in five days time. My head is spinning. My house is spinning. I walk around a lot. In a daze. Anything not to smoke. I really do have to quit. For more reasons than this.
I'm heading toward surgery--sooner or later (I'm hoping later)--since I'm getting more anemic from all of this bleeding. I went through hell to keep my uterus, but I'm beginning to accept that maybe it's time. Getting close to time.
But shit. Why am I so tied up with what my reproductive organs mean to me as a woman. I wept at the doctor's yesterday, and the sweet blood-taking lady aske what I was most afraid of. I said, surgery. And besides that, if hysterectomy becomes the ultimate answer, I feel like I will lose my womanhood, my woman-ness, my motherness, my tie to my child, the tug I feel RIGHT there when she's hurting or happy, I feel like I'll lose all of that.
And I know that's silly, but I know I'm hormonal, and I feel like a mess, and that's what it's like sometimes being a woman in your 40s.
sigh.
God, I want a cigarette.
Monday, July 05, 2004
A Glorious Fourth
Kim Ode, one of the Minneapolis Strib's op-ed columnists, asks what flying the flag means to us. Turns out that the act of flying the American flag is these days interpreted by many as signifying the flag-flier's support of the war in Iraq and of the Bush administration. What th'...? Of that particular spin I had never heard, but it doesn't surprise me one bit. Read the Kim Ode column, including many responses to the question of Why Do You Fly The Flag?
Link
Know what? Gonna fly the flag anyway. Dumbya and his cretinous gangsters don't own the American flag. I do. And you do. We all do.
Also today, symbolically thumbing my nose at that #ucking nitwit, I made a flag cake, or flag pudding, or flag ...layered dessert ...thingy. OK, so I just checked, and I guess its official name is Wave Your Flag Cheesecake. Yeah, it calls for a tub o Cool Whip topping. And for lots of red Jello. Deal with it, my all-natural purist pals -- the picture just looked too damn good. This recipe called out to me; nay, more than called out, it verily demanded to be made! I salute you, Red Jello Cool Whip Layered Dessert Flag Thingy!
In other news concerning the food we ate today: Slaves to consumerism that we are, we partially recreated Slate's hot dog taste test. As there is no way I would touch one of the tofu franken-franks the Slate testers had to endure, the only two brands we used were our current fave rave, Hebrew National Beef Franks, which came in second in Slate's test, and the Slate winner, Nathan's Skinless Beef Franks. The results: Couldn't choose one over the other. Both are juicy-greasy -- but in a good way!-- with great mouth-feel, and just the right amount of garlicky, spicy, salty flavor. Yum. Best. Hotdogs. Ever.
So, in the evening the boys biked down to the local celebration at Round Lake and hung out with their respective peeps, mostly at the Democratic Party booth. The hub and I stayed home and offered comfort and protection to Bandit, our 80#, 11-year old, dynamic and heroic dog who is afraid of only one thing in this world, and that one thing is fireworks. Poor pup; he was trembling so violently that petting him was like putting your hands on a vibrating Happy Fingers massage mattress (you know, those coin-fed conveniences in cheap motel rooms of yore.)
After the kids returned home at about 11pm, we ate the fabulous flag cake/dessert/thingy, and it was indeed fabulous. Then we all watched THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE, and I had the great enjoyment and satisfaction of seeing my kids discover for themselves one of my alltime favorite films. They were just blown away by it. Talk about the perfect movie to watch on July 4, 2004!! .. No wonder the remake is going to be opening in theaters in a couple weeks. Just in time for the national conventions!
I hear the remake shifts the locale and time to the first Gulf War. Hmmm.... actually I don't know how they're going to get by with calling it the Manchurian Candidate this time. From the locale shift, I'm surmising that they might want to call it the ...uhhh .......How about the SaddamHusseinian Candidate? the BinLadenian Candidate? Whatever; the word "Manchurian" would seem to make the whole thing a bit dicey 42 years after the original was made. Wonder how much the remakers will adhere to Richard Condon's novel? We'll see how they handle those pesky little details. Casting sounds pretty darn good to me, with Denzel taking the Sinatra part, Liev Schreiber playing Raymond, and Meryl Streep playing Raymond's mom. Yikes!! You just know La Streep is gonna rip up the screen, but even she will have a hard time topping Angela Lansbury's performance. Definitely the mother of all monster-mothers, that part.
Hope everyone's had a happy and glorious Fourth. Remember: we are not playing a game of Capture the Flag, folks. Don't let Bush/Cheney and the rest of that gang of jackbooted thugs hijack the Stars and Stripes. FLY THE FLAG.
Cross-posted at Tild~
Link
Know what? Gonna fly the flag anyway. Dumbya and his cretinous gangsters don't own the American flag. I do. And you do. We all do.
Also today, symbolically thumbing my nose at that #ucking nitwit, I made a flag cake, or flag pudding, or flag ...layered dessert ...thingy. OK, so I just checked, and I guess its official name is Wave Your Flag Cheesecake. Yeah, it calls for a tub o Cool Whip topping. And for lots of red Jello. Deal with it, my all-natural purist pals -- the picture just looked too damn good. This recipe called out to me; nay, more than called out, it verily demanded to be made! I salute you, Red Jello Cool Whip Layered Dessert Flag Thingy!
In other news concerning the food we ate today: Slaves to consumerism that we are, we partially recreated Slate's hot dog taste test. As there is no way I would touch one of the tofu franken-franks the Slate testers had to endure, the only two brands we used were our current fave rave, Hebrew National Beef Franks, which came in second in Slate's test, and the Slate winner, Nathan's Skinless Beef Franks. The results: Couldn't choose one over the other. Both are juicy-greasy -- but in a good way!-- with great mouth-feel, and just the right amount of garlicky, spicy, salty flavor. Yum. Best. Hotdogs. Ever.
So, in the evening the boys biked down to the local celebration at Round Lake and hung out with their respective peeps, mostly at the Democratic Party booth. The hub and I stayed home and offered comfort and protection to Bandit, our 80#, 11-year old, dynamic and heroic dog who is afraid of only one thing in this world, and that one thing is fireworks. Poor pup; he was trembling so violently that petting him was like putting your hands on a vibrating Happy Fingers massage mattress (you know, those coin-fed conveniences in cheap motel rooms of yore.)
After the kids returned home at about 11pm, we ate the fabulous flag cake/dessert/thingy, and it was indeed fabulous. Then we all watched THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE, and I had the great enjoyment and satisfaction of seeing my kids discover for themselves one of my alltime favorite films. They were just blown away by it. Talk about the perfect movie to watch on July 4, 2004!! .. No wonder the remake is going to be opening in theaters in a couple weeks. Just in time for the national conventions!
I hear the remake shifts the locale and time to the first Gulf War. Hmmm.... actually I don't know how they're going to get by with calling it the Manchurian Candidate this time. From the locale shift, I'm surmising that they might want to call it the ...uhhh .......How about the SaddamHusseinian Candidate? the BinLadenian Candidate? Whatever; the word "Manchurian" would seem to make the whole thing a bit dicey 42 years after the original was made. Wonder how much the remakers will adhere to Richard Condon's novel? We'll see how they handle those pesky little details. Casting sounds pretty darn good to me, with Denzel taking the Sinatra part, Liev Schreiber playing Raymond, and Meryl Streep playing Raymond's mom. Yikes!! You just know La Streep is gonna rip up the screen, but even she will have a hard time topping Angela Lansbury's performance. Definitely the mother of all monster-mothers, that part.
Hope everyone's had a happy and glorious Fourth. Remember: we are not playing a game of Capture the Flag, folks. Don't let Bush/Cheney and the rest of that gang of jackbooted thugs hijack the Stars and Stripes. FLY THE FLAG.
Cross-posted at Tild~
Sunday, July 04, 2004
One Girl's Take on Fahrenheit 9/11 (spoiler)
I put this on my blog for my readers, but I thought the masses might find it interesting:
Last night, I saw Fahrenheit 9/11 at the AFI with the FABULOUS ladies of Code Pink DC. Afterwards, we discussed politics over Ethiopian platters at Addis Abbaba.
About the flick: The footage of Dubya putting his foot in his mouth was hysterical. Moore conducted a solid investigation of the issues--enough for the average American to learn something and form an opinion. The film could've probed deeper in spots, but we would've been in the theater all night. (Ya'll remember Malcolm X.) Moore did an excellent job of connecting the dots for those folks who don't notice how news stories get buried, or those who believe that there's no relationship whatsoever between a string of suspicious events.
My boy Keso said it best: "It's crazy how they buried the (Abu Ghraib) prison scandal with Reagan's death. How'd they do that? He's probably been dead for, like, two years." Well, that's a little insensitive to Nancy, but I get his point. The timing was a tad sketchy, and the outcry over the prison abuse was all but silenced by the Reagan PR machine. Heck, they almost made me cry for the man and I grew up knowing that he didn't give a crap about little Black me on the West side of Detroit. And, now for my own insensitive comment: I never fully believed that he had Alzheimer's. I wasn't really old enough to grasp the situation in the 80s, but it always sounded like a fabrication to me, to stay consistent with his "I can't recall" Iran Contra defense. Some things just sound fishy to me as soon as Tom Brokaw utters them. I guess I was a born conspiracy theorist.
Anyhoo, Moore revisits the 2000 election debacle, which is a sore spot for many people, and a REALLY sore spot for Black people. *Deep breath* I often ask myself the same thing Moore asks: "Did the last four years really happen?"
Coalition of the Willing: "Japan's Sending Playstations"
It's funny how concisely accurate Dave Chappelle's Black Bush was. He said in 4 minutes what took Moore 116. Mars, Bitches.
My favorite part of Farenheit? ( Fool me once, shame on...shame on you. Ifoolmuh can't get fooled again." Guess which fool said that.
(Via give love:get love)
What to Do:
1. Go see the movie
2. Take friends
3. Host a discussion about it (and about politics in general)
4. Register to vote
5. Make sure everyone you know is registered to vote
6. PAY ATTENTION TO THE CONGRESSIONAL RACES, not just the presidential one. Remember those Senators (all of them) who sat there with blank stares while the Reps pleaded for just one of them to lend a signature, so they could bring their objections of the 2000 presidential election results to the floor. Get educated about your Congresspeople.
6a. FYI, Maryland's Democratic incumbent, Senator Barbara Mikulski, is being challenged by a Republican. There's no Senate race in Virginia this go 'round. And DC, well, what can I say? No taxation...you know the rest. If you vote absentee in your home state, you can go here to see if your Senators are up for reelection and where they stand on the issues.
6b. There are no Black Senators. You knew that, right? Zero. Zilch. None. No Latinos either. This year, there's a Black Democrat (Obama) challenging the Republican incumbent in Illinois, and there's a Black Republican (Cain), yes, a Black Republican, vying with a bunch of other folks for the retiring Senator's seat in Georgia.
6c. In other Peachtree news, former Rep. and 9/11 whistleblower Cynthia McKinney, who was ousted by Republican-turned-Democrat Denise Majette (also a Black woman)in the 2002 Democratic primary, is trying to win her House seat back. Remember when all those Republican voters in Georgia (43,000 of them)crossed over to vote Democrat, just to get McKinney out? Interestingly enough, Denise Majette quit the House to run as a long-shot for the Georgia Senate. It's just like The Young & the Restless, ain't it?
7. Give money to somebody that you support, if you can.
8. Check out Democracy for America (formerly Dean for America,) Redefeat Bush, Billionaires for Bush (Check out their CD, especially the song "Voting Machine," which I'm gonna put on a mixtape), Move On and of course, Too Stupid to be President.com.
9. If you've got more activist groups or funny Bush links, send 'em to me. Post them on your sites, too.
10. Walk, carpool, bike, or take the train when possible. Support organizations that support alternative energy sources. And stop buying Escalades to drive down East Jefferson (Detroit), 7 Mile, U Street, Flatbush, Peachtree, the Plat, the 'Shaw, etc. You are NOT on rough terrain. Every gasoline fill-up supports this farce of a war.
Celeste
Last night, I saw Fahrenheit 9/11 at the AFI with the FABULOUS ladies of Code Pink DC. Afterwards, we discussed politics over Ethiopian platters at Addis Abbaba.
About the flick: The footage of Dubya putting his foot in his mouth was hysterical. Moore conducted a solid investigation of the issues--enough for the average American to learn something and form an opinion. The film could've probed deeper in spots, but we would've been in the theater all night. (Ya'll remember Malcolm X.) Moore did an excellent job of connecting the dots for those folks who don't notice how news stories get buried, or those who believe that there's no relationship whatsoever between a string of suspicious events.
My boy Keso said it best: "It's crazy how they buried the (Abu Ghraib) prison scandal with Reagan's death. How'd they do that? He's probably been dead for, like, two years." Well, that's a little insensitive to Nancy, but I get his point. The timing was a tad sketchy, and the outcry over the prison abuse was all but silenced by the Reagan PR machine. Heck, they almost made me cry for the man and I grew up knowing that he didn't give a crap about little Black me on the West side of Detroit. And, now for my own insensitive comment: I never fully believed that he had Alzheimer's. I wasn't really old enough to grasp the situation in the 80s, but it always sounded like a fabrication to me, to stay consistent with his "I can't recall" Iran Contra defense. Some things just sound fishy to me as soon as Tom Brokaw utters them. I guess I was a born conspiracy theorist.
Anyhoo, Moore revisits the 2000 election debacle, which is a sore spot for many people, and a REALLY sore spot for Black people. *Deep breath* I often ask myself the same thing Moore asks: "Did the last four years really happen?"
Coalition of the Willing: "Japan's Sending Playstations"
It's funny how concisely accurate Dave Chappelle's Black Bush was. He said in 4 minutes what took Moore 116. Mars, Bitches.
My favorite part of Farenheit? ( Fool me once, shame on...shame on you. Ifoolmuh can't get fooled again." Guess which fool said that.
(Via give love:get love)
What to Do:
1. Go see the movie
2. Take friends
3. Host a discussion about it (and about politics in general)
4. Register to vote
5. Make sure everyone you know is registered to vote
6. PAY ATTENTION TO THE CONGRESSIONAL RACES, not just the presidential one. Remember those Senators (all of them) who sat there with blank stares while the Reps pleaded for just one of them to lend a signature, so they could bring their objections of the 2000 presidential election results to the floor. Get educated about your Congresspeople.
6a. FYI, Maryland's Democratic incumbent, Senator Barbara Mikulski, is being challenged by a Republican. There's no Senate race in Virginia this go 'round. And DC, well, what can I say? No taxation...you know the rest. If you vote absentee in your home state, you can go here to see if your Senators are up for reelection and where they stand on the issues.
6b. There are no Black Senators. You knew that, right? Zero. Zilch. None. No Latinos either. This year, there's a Black Democrat (Obama) challenging the Republican incumbent in Illinois, and there's a Black Republican (Cain), yes, a Black Republican, vying with a bunch of other folks for the retiring Senator's seat in Georgia.
6c. In other Peachtree news, former Rep. and 9/11 whistleblower Cynthia McKinney, who was ousted by Republican-turned-Democrat Denise Majette (also a Black woman)in the 2002 Democratic primary, is trying to win her House seat back. Remember when all those Republican voters in Georgia (43,000 of them)crossed over to vote Democrat, just to get McKinney out? Interestingly enough, Denise Majette quit the House to run as a long-shot for the Georgia Senate. It's just like The Young & the Restless, ain't it?
7. Give money to somebody that you support, if you can.
8. Check out Democracy for America (formerly Dean for America,) Redefeat Bush, Billionaires for Bush (Check out their CD, especially the song "Voting Machine," which I'm gonna put on a mixtape), Move On and of course, Too Stupid to be President.com.
9. If you've got more activist groups or funny Bush links, send 'em to me. Post them on your sites, too.
10. Walk, carpool, bike, or take the train when possible. Support organizations that support alternative energy sources. And stop buying Escalades to drive down East Jefferson (Detroit), 7 Mile, U Street, Flatbush, Peachtree, the Plat, the 'Shaw, etc. You are NOT on rough terrain. Every gasoline fill-up supports this farce of a war.
Celeste
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Ray Bradbury vs. Michael Moore
So Ray Bradbury is pissed off that Michael Moore named his latest film "Fahrenheit 9/11" .
As if you'd never heard of him, Ray Bradbury is a guy who wrote some memorable fiction in
his day, including "Fahrenheit 451", "The Martian Chronicles", "The Illustrated Man", and "Something Wicked This Way Comes".
That last title is a direct quote from Shakespeare, by the way:
Bradbury is now 83 years old and a little shaky since suffering a stroke in 1999, but he's still quite capable of chewing up the scenery and thrashing all comers as a guest speaker/lecturer.
I saw him at the Santa Barbara Writers Conference in 1999 and again in 2001. He has been the keynote speaker for the conference since it was founded 30 odd years ago. The 2004 SBWC is actually going on now, as I post this; it's always held during the last week in June.
Many SBWC students are repeat attendees; some have been going to the SBWC every year for 15, 20 years or more, and a lot of people in the audience for Bradbury's keynote address the years I was there had heard this same speech so often, they knew large chunks of it by heart. At times Bradbury would lose his place in his notes, and ask the audience what came next.
People shouted out:
"The living-your-dreams stuff!" or "Now comes the part about never taking crap from editors!"
Bursts of affectionate laughter filled the room. Bradbury truly relishes his current role as Living Legend and Elder Crankpot, and he plays it to the hilt 24/7. And good for him, I say.
The joys of being curmudgeonly aside, why is he so angry about Michael Moore naming his film "Fahrenheit 9/11"? Apparently it's not about Moore's
political stance. Rather, it's that Bradbury believes he owns the arrangement of the name "Fahrenheit" followed by three numbers, and because he owns it, everyone else needs to ask his permission to use it. Opinions, please?
Some say Bradbury's got a weak argument.
Others say pretty much the same thing.
Still others, this time from amongst the fen ranks [of whom you'd expect hardcore sycophancy] are saying that Ray is just being an old fart about this.
In fact, I'm not finding any sources anywhere that are taking Bradbury's side, except for those who feel outraged by a perceived slight to their object of worship, the Divine Ray. These are the commenters that usually start out:
Why, that lousy stinking 400 lb. pile of steaming poop! He isn't worthy to kiss even the hangnail on Bradbury's littlest toe!. Blah blah rant rage apoplectic fit.
Now, really. Should author Bill Flanagan have begged permission from James Fenimore Cooper before he titled his most excellent book about the Three Stooges Last Of The Moe Haircuts?
No! Of course not. Not even if Cooper hasn't been dead for the past 150 years.
Finally, isn't it convenient that a new edition of "Fahrenheit 451" comes out in a few short weeks?
The most palpable outcome of this little snit fit is bound to be renewed interest in Bradbury's classic novel, and that's bound to make the old fart happy.
Rave on, Ray. Long may you rant. Now tell us the living-your-dreams part again!
Cross posted at Tild~
"It's not a nice thing he has done," Bradbury said in an interview with
AFP. "My book is known all over the world and that title is my title. He just
took it without my permission and changed the number."
"I'd like him to give my title back, just hand it back to me and apologise.
The film should be called Michael Moore 9/11 -- it's his film not mine," he said.
As if you'd never heard of him, Ray Bradbury is a guy who wrote some memorable fiction in
his day, including "Fahrenheit 451", "The Martian Chronicles", "The Illustrated Man", and "Something Wicked This Way Comes".
That last title is a direct quote from Shakespeare, by the way:
"By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes."
--From Macbeth (IV, i, 44-45)
Bradbury is now 83 years old and a little shaky since suffering a stroke in 1999, but he's still quite capable of chewing up the scenery and thrashing all comers as a guest speaker/lecturer.
I saw him at the Santa Barbara Writers Conference in 1999 and again in 2001. He has been the keynote speaker for the conference since it was founded 30 odd years ago. The 2004 SBWC is actually going on now, as I post this; it's always held during the last week in June.
Many SBWC students are repeat attendees; some have been going to the SBWC every year for 15, 20 years or more, and a lot of people in the audience for Bradbury's keynote address the years I was there had heard this same speech so often, they knew large chunks of it by heart. At times Bradbury would lose his place in his notes, and ask the audience what came next.
People shouted out:
"The living-your-dreams stuff!" or "Now comes the part about never taking crap from editors!"
Bursts of affectionate laughter filled the room. Bradbury truly relishes his current role as Living Legend and Elder Crankpot, and he plays it to the hilt 24/7. And good for him, I say.
The joys of being curmudgeonly aside, why is he so angry about Michael Moore naming his film "Fahrenheit 9/11"? Apparently it's not about Moore's
political stance. Rather, it's that Bradbury believes he owns the arrangement of the name "Fahrenheit" followed by three numbers, and because he owns it, everyone else needs to ask his permission to use it. Opinions, please?
Some say Bradbury's got a weak argument.
Others say pretty much the same thing.
Still others, this time from amongst the fen ranks [of whom you'd expect hardcore sycophancy] are saying that Ray is just being an old fart about this.
In fact, I'm not finding any sources anywhere that are taking Bradbury's side, except for those who feel outraged by a perceived slight to their object of worship, the Divine Ray. These are the commenters that usually start out:
Why, that lousy stinking 400 lb. pile of steaming poop! He isn't worthy to kiss even the hangnail on Bradbury's littlest toe!. Blah blah rant rage apoplectic fit.
Now, really. Should author Bill Flanagan have begged permission from James Fenimore Cooper before he titled his most excellent book about the Three Stooges Last Of The Moe Haircuts?
No! Of course not. Not even if Cooper hasn't been dead for the past 150 years.
Finally, isn't it convenient that a new edition of "Fahrenheit 451" comes out in a few short weeks?
Bradbury's book was made into a 1966 movie directed by Francois Truffaut. A new edition of the book is scheduled for release in eight weeks, Bradbury said, and plans are in the works for a new film version, to be directed by Frank Darabont.
The most palpable outcome of this little snit fit is bound to be renewed interest in Bradbury's classic novel, and that's bound to make the old fart happy.
Rave on, Ray. Long may you rant. Now tell us the living-your-dreams part again!
Cross posted at Tild~
Monday, June 28, 2004
And the Winner is...
Last week, in order to help President Bush with his Rename the Food Stamps Program project, I held a contest. The results are here.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Rename The Food Stamps Program Contest
I was amused to learn about a new Bush administration goal: It wants to change the name of the Food Stamps Program (since it no longer uses stamps) and is soliciting suggestions from the public. I've taken a personal interest in this. Why? Because many years ago, in order to subsidize my symphony orchestra oboist habit, I worked for the Nassau County, New York Food Stamps Department.
Needless to say, I couldn't resist the challenge, and the new name I've come up with is "Leave No Stomach Behind."
But I think it's important to give Dubya a wide selection of creative names. So, as a public service, I challenge my readers to come up with some good names and post them in my comments. If I get suggestions from ten or more people, I'll even award a prize -- $10 in PayPal cash.
So please post your name suggestions in the comments section of this Rename The Food Stamps Program Contest post.
Needless to say, I couldn't resist the challenge, and the new name I've come up with is "Leave No Stomach Behind."
But I think it's important to give Dubya a wide selection of creative names. So, as a public service, I challenge my readers to come up with some good names and post them in my comments. If I get suggestions from ten or more people, I'll even award a prize -- $10 in PayPal cash.
So please post your name suggestions in the comments section of this Rename The Food Stamps Program Contest post.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Nose in the Air (Or Rather, T-Shirt)
A recent paper in Behavioral Ecology suggests that human males do not solely use visual cues to determine if a female within their radar is "sexy." Okay, so this may fall into the range of "Well, duh!" but then again, the implied question of whether or not particular deviances (i.e. panty sniffing) are learned or just an exaggeration of something innate should cause certain people pause--because what exactly is normal?
Instead of going into philosophical discussions of normality that I am neither qualified nor particularly interested in rambling about, I will say a little more about the study. Kuukasjarvi et al. wanted to challenge the assumption that men are absolutely clueless about when a woman is fertile during her mentrual cycle. In many primate species, females advertise their stage in ovulation by visual cues. For humans, this is concealed, leading to the hypothesis that if this was an adaptation in the female, then perhaps males counter-adapted by evolving ways to detect olfactory cues. In other words, ancient man developed the ability to sniff out the women who were at their peak fertility phase.
In the experiment, the researchers had women in varying phases of their menstrual cycle as well as about half that were on oral contraceptives and half that were not, wear a T-shirt for two consecutive nights. Then the researchers had both men and women rate the T-shirts' odors for attractiveness. After putting the data through the statistical wringer, the study indicated that male raters preferred the odors of women near ovulatory phase in their mentrual cycles. This only applied to the T-shirts where the women were not on contraceptives. Apparently the pill affects hormone levels and eliminates the "attractive odors."
So what are these odors and what exactly do they do? This study doesn't address that question specifically, but there are several possibilities. Odors from the human body can be affected by hormone levels. Steroid hormones are secreted through sweat glands. When these steroid hormones come in contact with bacteria on the skin, the bacteria convert them into odorous compounds. Another possibility is that the T-shirt sniffers weren't rating the odors per se, instead they could have been detecting pheromones via the vomeronasal organ (VNO). (Then, there are other people who argue that the VNO is vestigial and probably as useless as a sixth finger.) A third possibility is that body odor is affected by a person's major histocompatibility complex (MHC) type. MHC is involved in immunity and some hypothesize that people seek out mates with a different MHC type to prevent inbreeding.
Of course, this doesn't say anything about some women's penchant for overwhelming amounts of perfume.
Other Smelly T-shirt Studies:
Singh and Bronstad, 2001. (ABCNEWS summary)
Wedekind et al., 1995; Wedekind and Furi, 1997. (New Scientist overview)
(Cross-posted at Syaffolee.)
Instead of going into philosophical discussions of normality that I am neither qualified nor particularly interested in rambling about, I will say a little more about the study. Kuukasjarvi et al. wanted to challenge the assumption that men are absolutely clueless about when a woman is fertile during her mentrual cycle. In many primate species, females advertise their stage in ovulation by visual cues. For humans, this is concealed, leading to the hypothesis that if this was an adaptation in the female, then perhaps males counter-adapted by evolving ways to detect olfactory cues. In other words, ancient man developed the ability to sniff out the women who were at their peak fertility phase.
In the experiment, the researchers had women in varying phases of their menstrual cycle as well as about half that were on oral contraceptives and half that were not, wear a T-shirt for two consecutive nights. Then the researchers had both men and women rate the T-shirts' odors for attractiveness. After putting the data through the statistical wringer, the study indicated that male raters preferred the odors of women near ovulatory phase in their mentrual cycles. This only applied to the T-shirts where the women were not on contraceptives. Apparently the pill affects hormone levels and eliminates the "attractive odors."
So what are these odors and what exactly do they do? This study doesn't address that question specifically, but there are several possibilities. Odors from the human body can be affected by hormone levels. Steroid hormones are secreted through sweat glands. When these steroid hormones come in contact with bacteria on the skin, the bacteria convert them into odorous compounds. Another possibility is that the T-shirt sniffers weren't rating the odors per se, instead they could have been detecting pheromones via the vomeronasal organ (VNO). (Then, there are other people who argue that the VNO is vestigial and probably as useless as a sixth finger.) A third possibility is that body odor is affected by a person's major histocompatibility complex (MHC) type. MHC is involved in immunity and some hypothesize that people seek out mates with a different MHC type to prevent inbreeding.
Of course, this doesn't say anything about some women's penchant for overwhelming amounts of perfume.
Other Smelly T-shirt Studies:
Singh and Bronstad, 2001. (ABCNEWS summary)
Wedekind et al., 1995; Wedekind and Furi, 1997. (New Scientist overview)
(Cross-posted at Syaffolee.)
Sunday, June 20, 2004
It's a man's afterlife in Senegal
Attention all wives! Better keep your husband happy or you won't go to heaven.
In the Casamance region of southern Senegal this concept is part of the people's religious life. Do you need more proof that religion is not given to humans by a deity of any kind, but rather cobbled up by humans themselves? In many cases, by male humans --- more specifically, by male humans who need to control female humans. Why else would the subordination of females be so often a part of immutable "sacred doctrine"?
To which the holy men respond:
Oh, we don't make the religious laws. No, no, those laws have been given to us. Those laws have been handed down to us by God Himself!
Uh huh.
Crossposted at Tild~
In the Casamance region of southern Senegal this concept is part of the people's religious life. Do you need more proof that religion is not given to humans by a deity of any kind, but rather cobbled up by humans themselves? In many cases, by male humans --- more specifically, by male humans who need to control female humans. Why else would the subordination of females be so often a part of immutable "sacred doctrine"?
To which the holy men respond:
Oh, we don't make the religious laws. No, no, those laws have been given to us. Those laws have been handed down to us by God Himself!
Uh huh.
Crossposted at Tild~
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Organizing for Political Change?
League of Pissed Off Voters
It's not enough to be pissed off - if we want to make a difference, we need to be informed, in touch, and empowered. No one is going to do it for us.
A book (Softskull Press; March 2004;) that documents 20 success stories from the past five years of young people who have swung or won elections –from city council to the US Senate- in 16 states, South Korea, and on the Internet. With an 80+ city tour focused on key swing states, the 12 co-authors and The League of Pissed Off Voters have built online and offline political tools designed to capture the imagination of young non-voters just in time for the November 2004 elections.
Call or write Naina Khanna, Program Director, League of Pissed Off Voters with any questions.
League of PISSED OFF Voters
226 W. 135th St, 4th floor
New York, NY 10030
naina@indyvoter.org 212.283.8879
It's not enough to be pissed off - if we want to make a difference, we need to be informed, in touch, and empowered. No one is going to do it for us.
How to Get Stupid White Men Out Of Office
A book (Softskull Press; March 2004;) that documents 20 success stories from the past five years of young people who have swung or won elections –from city council to the US Senate- in 16 states, South Korea, and on the Internet. With an 80+ city tour focused on key swing states, the 12 co-authors and The League of Pissed Off Voters have built online and offline political tools designed to capture the imagination of young non-voters just in time for the November 2004 elections.
Call or write Naina Khanna, Program Director, League of Pissed Off Voters with any questions.
League of PISSED OFF Voters
226 W. 135th St, 4th floor
New York, NY 10030
naina@indyvoter.org 212.283.8879
Friday, June 18, 2004
My mother...
My mother passed away 10 days ago... It was sudden, but yet expected, if that makes sense. I'd like to know if there's anyone out there who has a group that I could join, possibly, or people to talk to, who have lost a parent. She was only 54... we had an incredible bond.
I'd appreciate any help with this... truly.
Heather
I'd appreciate any help with this... truly.
Heather
When should you get a Mammogram?
Thanks for the question Vikki. The first mammogram should be done in your mid to late 30's. Once you hit 40 at least every other year, however I prefer every year. When you turn 50 the mammograms need to be done at least once a year. The key to beating breast cancer is early detection. The earlier we catch breast cancer the better the chances of your recovery.
Anybody feel free to ask questions or comment.
Anybody feel free to ask questions or comment.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Why is everyone blaming President Bush?
All President Bush had done is clean up the messes left by the last two Presidents. If Daddy Bush had finished what he started in late 1990, we might not be in Iraq now. If Clinton had been paying attention to his security advisors instead of getting a blow job in the Oval office the terrorists attacks on 9-11 may not have happened. Clinton's administration knew it was Osama Bin Laden that was responsible for the suicide attack on one of our Navy ships in 2000 and they didn't do anything.
Speaking of 9-11; does anybody remember how it felt to be attacked? Does anybody remember the images as they unfolded on the television? Does anyone remember the towers collapsing? Does anyone remember the 3000 plus lives that we lost? How about the families that lost loved ones and how their lives have been torn apart. Some families didn't even get remains to bury because there was nothing left of the victims. Where's the closure for them?
What did we do to provoke the attack on 9-11? NOTHING! Are innocent Iraqi citizens getting hurt and killed? Yes. Were the victims of 9-11 any less innocent? NO! I fully believe that Sadam Hussein had a part in planning the attack. Are there Weapons of Mass destruction? They are actually starting to find some. Even if there weren't, I still believe and stand behind President Bush.
Being a former member of the Army, let me say this for our soldiers; We are proud to be Americans. Nobody forced us to sign on the dotted line. None of our soldiers were drafted.
Speaking of 9-11; does anybody remember how it felt to be attacked? Does anybody remember the images as they unfolded on the television? Does anyone remember the towers collapsing? Does anyone remember the 3000 plus lives that we lost? How about the families that lost loved ones and how their lives have been torn apart. Some families didn't even get remains to bury because there was nothing left of the victims. Where's the closure for them?
What did we do to provoke the attack on 9-11? NOTHING! Are innocent Iraqi citizens getting hurt and killed? Yes. Were the victims of 9-11 any less innocent? NO! I fully believe that Sadam Hussein had a part in planning the attack. Are there Weapons of Mass destruction? They are actually starting to find some. Even if there weren't, I still believe and stand behind President Bush.
Being a former member of the Army, let me say this for our soldiers; We are proud to be Americans. Nobody forced us to sign on the dotted line. None of our soldiers were drafted.
What to wear for a Mammogram
Ladies, please wear a two piece outfit to a mammogram appointment. At my clinic I have mammo capes that I have my patients change into. These capes are truly one size fits all, and I get some pretty big women. When my patients wear a one piece outfit such as a dress I have to have them change into the gown. Are any of you familiar with hospital gowns? They don't cover much.
Another pet peeve of mine is when a patient changes in front of me. I know I'm going to see her breasts anyway, but I just prefer that my patients not strip in front of me.
Another pet peeve of mine is when a patient changes in front of me. I know I'm going to see her breasts anyway, but I just prefer that my patients not strip in front of me.
Generation Double-X'ers
Check out the new blog XX - always great to see more kick-ass group blogs by women! Gals, don't forget to let Ms. Musings know about you!
And speaking of Ms. Musings, via Christine I note that Y: The Last Man (art by Pia Guerra, writing by Brian Vaughan) is getting lots of mainstream publicity of late. If you're a member of Friends of Lulu, you should know that Pia is nominated for a Kim Yale Award for Best New Female Talent; don't forget to vote!
And speaking of Ms. Musings, via Christine I note that Y: The Last Man (art by Pia Guerra, writing by Brian Vaughan) is getting lots of mainstream publicity of late. If you're a member of Friends of Lulu, you should know that Pia is nominated for a Kim Yale Award for Best New Female Talent; don't forget to vote!
Dubya Seeks Some Help From His Pope
As Pen-Elayne points out, religion's been in the news lately. Not only do you have your basic Baptist secession, but you have Bush seeking political favors from the Vatican. The latter inspired this poem:
Dubya's Plea
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Our Bishops need to do much more
To safeguard all that's good,
Said Dubya to the Pope when Dub
Was in the neighborhood.
The rest of Dubya's Plea is here and here.
Dubya's Plea
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Our Bishops need to do much more
To safeguard all that's good,
Said Dubya to the Pope when Dub
Was in the neighborhood.
The rest of Dubya's Plea is here and here.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Back off, copper! I’ve got a volume of Dostoevsky here and I know how to read it!
This just in, via email from my friend Jackie:
A couple goes on vacation to a fishing resort in northern Minnesota. The husband likes to fish at the crack of dawn. The wife likes to read. One morning, the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and continues to read her book. Along comes a game warden in his boat.
He pulls up alongside the woman and says,
"Good morning Ma'am. What are you doing?"
"Reading a book," she replies, (thinking, "Isn't that obvious?")
"You're in a restricted fishing area," he informs her.
"I'm sorry officer, but I'm not fishing, I'm reading."
"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."
"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.
"But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden.
"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."
"Have a nice day ma'am," he says, and leaves.
MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It's likely she can also think.
Crossposted at Tild~.
A couple goes on vacation to a fishing resort in northern Minnesota. The husband likes to fish at the crack of dawn. The wife likes to read. One morning, the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and continues to read her book. Along comes a game warden in his boat.
He pulls up alongside the woman and says,
"Good morning Ma'am. What are you doing?"
"Reading a book," she replies, (thinking, "Isn't that obvious?")
"You're in a restricted fishing area," he informs her.
"I'm sorry officer, but I'm not fishing, I'm reading."
"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."
"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.
"But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden.
"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."
"Have a nice day ma'am," he says, and leaves.
MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It's likely she can also think.
Crossposted at Tild~.
Urgh. Many thing and many non-things have happened, and it’s time to start documenting them. Yeah, I’ve been lame at updating – again – sorry about that. :)
Let’s see, what’s been going on? Well, I took Thena to get spayed on Friday morning. I caught a cab out to the pet hospital, dropped her off, then slowly wandered back towards my apartment, alternately not thinking about everything and feeling somewhat teary about the whole event. Logically, I knew she’d be fine, I knew it was a routine procedure, I knew I knew I knew... but she’s the first warm, demanding little body that I’ve had that’s utterly dependent on no one but me, and I couldn’t help but think that something would go wrong as a result.
So I wandered back slowly, not in any big rush and enjoying the morning. I stopped in at a diner for some breakfast, then kept wandering back towards Chapters. I spent a bit of time in there, trying to find *something* that I really wanted (I picked up a few books, but nothing I was dying to buy), before heading over for my hair appointment. Got my hair all dyed crazy-like, then it was time to grab some lunch.
This whole time I was trying to avoid going to my apartment, partly because I felt like if I was there I should be cleaning it or something. However, in my travels, while I was thinking of what I wanted to be next doing, I kept thinking, ‘I could go back to my apartment and hang out with my kitten!’ before realizing that I couldn’t do that, my kitten was presently having her little girl parts removed and being microchipped.
So I got to the mall and gave Ben a call, but he’d already had lunch (since it was 1:30 at this point, I wasn’t terribly surprised). Instead, I ran into Gord and his friend Eric, and I persuaded them to hit up a nearby Chinese food place that had always struck me as sketchy, but had received the Ben seal of approval. We chatted while I ate, then it was time to drop in on Ben and give him my leftovers. :) The bunch of us wound up at a nearby Starbucks, and I booked it to go and get my kitten from the pet hospital – they’d called while my hair was getting finished up and told me she’d been a darling for them and was recovering nicely. Damn cat, being selectively well-behaved.
When the tech told me about after-care and so on, she said that Thena was feeling the effects of the various painkillers and so on and was “a little upset with them trying to take the IV out.” Now, having worked at an animal hospital myself and briefed many an owner on taking their post-surgery/post-procedure pets home, I knew how to parse this sentence. It translates to something as, “Thena’s tried to chew someone’s face off while we were trying to perform (action).” It made me giggle a little bit, I must confess.
Anyhow, I got to pick up my drug-eyed kitten, and back to my apartment I went. I was impressed at how quickly she’d shaken off the effects of the anaesthetics. About an hour after I’d gotten her home, her eyes were clear and while her back end was still a little wobbly, she was trying to play and she was jumping up into the window constantly, trying to see what’s going on outside. When I’m home, I open the window for her, and she likes it.
I laid down on the couch and was trying to convince her to nap with me, but I guess she’d spent the day napping and was done with it. I passed out in two- to five-minute increments, waking up every time I heard her do something new. D called around 5, saying he’d be over shortly, which wound up being about a half-hour later. After some negotiation with Gord, Shawn, and Ben, we were going to go see Harry Potter 3 (my and D’s second time), but that fell through. Instead, D and I wound up going over to see Stepford Wives.
Now... my thoughts on that movie are going to have to wait, ‘cause I’m not sure how to really categorize what I thought of it. Overall, I thought it was decent, there were a few twists in there that kept it interesting, but in the end, the message in it was somewhat unsettling. It led to a good hour-long discussion between D and I on the subject, on gender roles, on sociological roles of men and women and so on, and that was kinda cool. I don’t know if Frank Oz’s goal was to have people thinking when they left it (which sounds bad, but it’s the best way I can think of to phrase it at the moment), but I did appreciate it for that.
After D left I mucked about on the computer for awhile, chatting with a few people, before going to bed around 12:30. I was pretty zonked from two early mornings in a row (I’ll rant about my work retreat another time). At some point in the morning I had felt Thena crawl under the covers to curl up by my outer thigh, and when I woke up that morning, she crawled up me in increments, purring furiously and staring at me the whole time. It’s times like those that I really appreciate her – black button eyes fixated on my face while she rumbles and cuddles against me. She might lick me or put her nose against mine for a kiss, but mostly she just looks content and I feel good about how I care for her.
I checked the time and was a little surprised to find that it was 10 in the morning – typically weekends involve Thena bouncing on me and maybe biting me anywhere between 7 and 8:30 – but either she’d taken pity on me (doubtful) or she was pretty exhausted herself and needed the extra rest. Once she got a bit nippy, I got up and started getting ready for the day.
My Saturday was quiet in a sense... I had coffee with someone and we wandered around a fair bit (another gorgeous day) before I headed off to my parents’ place for a big dinner. We had a few guests over, including most of our friends from Dartmouth and a neighbour, and Dad made a full turkey spread and so on. Good food. The night stretched semi-late, and Dad drove us all back downtown, stopping in for another minute to give Thena a little pat. Dad’s seen her twice since I’ve had her now, Mom’s only seen her the day I got her. Weird to think that.
Sunday I got up a bit early and got my groceries, then just hung around the apartment with the kitten. She spent a fair bit of time just sleeping places, and slept on my bed while I used the computer. I actually got up and curled up near her on the bed and dozed lightly for a little bit myself, before going off to work.
Since then... not too much this week. My legs are dead once more, but such appears to be my lot in life now – to always be in pain. :) Tonight my trainer asked if we could reschedule to Saturday, so I have my evening free to go have Pho with Ben, Mark and whoever else is going to be along. Yup, Mark’s in town for about a week and a half before he heads back out, so it’ll be nice to see him again and see if he’s changed drastically. :)
So, before I forget (and to reward those of you who’ve made it this far), I’ve managed to bully my photos into working. It’s not a perfect system, but it works, and you can find the gallery of photos with some brief explanations up. This includes photos of the water damage in my apartment (though not truly conveying the grossness of the squishy carpet I had to live with for so long), the day Thena unravelled a near-full roll of toilet paper on me (okay, one of the times it happened), and the new hair (minus the colour). Enjoy. :)
Let’s see, what’s been going on? Well, I took Thena to get spayed on Friday morning. I caught a cab out to the pet hospital, dropped her off, then slowly wandered back towards my apartment, alternately not thinking about everything and feeling somewhat teary about the whole event. Logically, I knew she’d be fine, I knew it was a routine procedure, I knew I knew I knew... but she’s the first warm, demanding little body that I’ve had that’s utterly dependent on no one but me, and I couldn’t help but think that something would go wrong as a result.
So I wandered back slowly, not in any big rush and enjoying the morning. I stopped in at a diner for some breakfast, then kept wandering back towards Chapters. I spent a bit of time in there, trying to find *something* that I really wanted (I picked up a few books, but nothing I was dying to buy), before heading over for my hair appointment. Got my hair all dyed crazy-like, then it was time to grab some lunch.
This whole time I was trying to avoid going to my apartment, partly because I felt like if I was there I should be cleaning it or something. However, in my travels, while I was thinking of what I wanted to be next doing, I kept thinking, ‘I could go back to my apartment and hang out with my kitten!’ before realizing that I couldn’t do that, my kitten was presently having her little girl parts removed and being microchipped.
So I got to the mall and gave Ben a call, but he’d already had lunch (since it was 1:30 at this point, I wasn’t terribly surprised). Instead, I ran into Gord and his friend Eric, and I persuaded them to hit up a nearby Chinese food place that had always struck me as sketchy, but had received the Ben seal of approval. We chatted while I ate, then it was time to drop in on Ben and give him my leftovers. :) The bunch of us wound up at a nearby Starbucks, and I booked it to go and get my kitten from the pet hospital – they’d called while my hair was getting finished up and told me she’d been a darling for them and was recovering nicely. Damn cat, being selectively well-behaved.
When the tech told me about after-care and so on, she said that Thena was feeling the effects of the various painkillers and so on and was “a little upset with them trying to take the IV out.” Now, having worked at an animal hospital myself and briefed many an owner on taking their post-surgery/post-procedure pets home, I knew how to parse this sentence. It translates to something as, “Thena’s tried to chew someone’s face off while we were trying to perform (action).” It made me giggle a little bit, I must confess.
Anyhow, I got to pick up my drug-eyed kitten, and back to my apartment I went. I was impressed at how quickly she’d shaken off the effects of the anaesthetics. About an hour after I’d gotten her home, her eyes were clear and while her back end was still a little wobbly, she was trying to play and she was jumping up into the window constantly, trying to see what’s going on outside. When I’m home, I open the window for her, and she likes it.
I laid down on the couch and was trying to convince her to nap with me, but I guess she’d spent the day napping and was done with it. I passed out in two- to five-minute increments, waking up every time I heard her do something new. D called around 5, saying he’d be over shortly, which wound up being about a half-hour later. After some negotiation with Gord, Shawn, and Ben, we were going to go see Harry Potter 3 (my and D’s second time), but that fell through. Instead, D and I wound up going over to see Stepford Wives.
Now... my thoughts on that movie are going to have to wait, ‘cause I’m not sure how to really categorize what I thought of it. Overall, I thought it was decent, there were a few twists in there that kept it interesting, but in the end, the message in it was somewhat unsettling. It led to a good hour-long discussion between D and I on the subject, on gender roles, on sociological roles of men and women and so on, and that was kinda cool. I don’t know if Frank Oz’s goal was to have people thinking when they left it (which sounds bad, but it’s the best way I can think of to phrase it at the moment), but I did appreciate it for that.
After D left I mucked about on the computer for awhile, chatting with a few people, before going to bed around 12:30. I was pretty zonked from two early mornings in a row (I’ll rant about my work retreat another time). At some point in the morning I had felt Thena crawl under the covers to curl up by my outer thigh, and when I woke up that morning, she crawled up me in increments, purring furiously and staring at me the whole time. It’s times like those that I really appreciate her – black button eyes fixated on my face while she rumbles and cuddles against me. She might lick me or put her nose against mine for a kiss, but mostly she just looks content and I feel good about how I care for her.
I checked the time and was a little surprised to find that it was 10 in the morning – typically weekends involve Thena bouncing on me and maybe biting me anywhere between 7 and 8:30 – but either she’d taken pity on me (doubtful) or she was pretty exhausted herself and needed the extra rest. Once she got a bit nippy, I got up and started getting ready for the day.
My Saturday was quiet in a sense... I had coffee with someone and we wandered around a fair bit (another gorgeous day) before I headed off to my parents’ place for a big dinner. We had a few guests over, including most of our friends from Dartmouth and a neighbour, and Dad made a full turkey spread and so on. Good food. The night stretched semi-late, and Dad drove us all back downtown, stopping in for another minute to give Thena a little pat. Dad’s seen her twice since I’ve had her now, Mom’s only seen her the day I got her. Weird to think that.
Sunday I got up a bit early and got my groceries, then just hung around the apartment with the kitten. She spent a fair bit of time just sleeping places, and slept on my bed while I used the computer. I actually got up and curled up near her on the bed and dozed lightly for a little bit myself, before going off to work.
Since then... not too much this week. My legs are dead once more, but such appears to be my lot in life now – to always be in pain. :) Tonight my trainer asked if we could reschedule to Saturday, so I have my evening free to go have Pho with Ben, Mark and whoever else is going to be along. Yup, Mark’s in town for about a week and a half before he heads back out, so it’ll be nice to see him again and see if he’s changed drastically. :)
So, before I forget (and to reward those of you who’ve made it this far), I’ve managed to bully my photos into working. It’s not a perfect system, but it works, and you can find the gallery of photos with some brief explanations up. This includes photos of the water damage in my apartment (though not truly conveying the grossness of the squishy carpet I had to live with for so long), the day Thena unravelled a near-full roll of toilet paper on me (okay, one of the times it happened), and the new hair (minus the colour). Enjoy. :)
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Dump Bush Song Parody
Here's my Dump Bush Song Parody, to be sung to "Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush," It's perfect for Bush's next appearance in an elementary school classroom, don't you think?
Dump Bush Song
By Madeleine Begun Kane
We must defeat George W. Bush,
George W. Bush, George W. Bush.
We must defeat George W. Bush.
Vote Kerry this November.
Cheney and Bush are our nation's foes,
Our nation's foes, our nation's foes.
Cheney and Bush are our nation's foes.
Vote Kerry this November. ...
The rest of my Dump Bush Song Parody is here and also here.
Dump Bush Song
By Madeleine Begun Kane
We must defeat George W. Bush,
George W. Bush, George W. Bush.
We must defeat George W. Bush.
Vote Kerry this November.
Cheney and Bush are our nation's foes,
Our nation's foes, our nation's foes.
Cheney and Bush are our nation's foes.
Vote Kerry this November. ...
The rest of my Dump Bush Song Parody is here and also here.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Thursday, June 10, 2004
One Reason Red is my Favorite Color
When I was a little girl, my mother dated a man from Alabama who was a mean man. And I mean "mean" in almost all the ways the word can denote.
But wait, what does this have to do with red?
I'm glad you asked. B. (I'll call him that just to be nice, which I am) used to say that women who wore "whore red" nail polish were, well, whores. And that, my friend, was the worst thing you could be in B's book. A woman who had the audacity to like red fingernails clearly must have been sexually promiscuous and nasty. No matter what other traits she might have. Heck, she might be saving orphans from a fire but if she had red fingernails while doing it, she was a whore and deserved to be smacked around.
Well. I love red. I have whore red fingernails RIGHT NOW and I adore the way my nails look, with slightly squared tips and this deep OPI "I'm Not Really a Waitress - NLH08 red" richness that screams "I AM IN CONTROL OF MY OWN DESTINY. MY OWN BODY. AND YOU, MEAN LITTLE MAN, ARE POINTLESS." (Also published at Kim Procrastinates)
Selfish in a petty way; unkind.What he liked best of all was to keep my mother (and therefore, me) in his control. He would get petulantly angry and throw a mean assed fit which often included things being thrown down the stairs (a Thanksgiving turkey once, my sister's wedding cake another time). Things that especially made him mad were when my mother had control over herSELF-- if she got a job, for instance, he would start tons of fights until she quit from the sheer weariness over the battle. In fact, he is part of the reason I am a staunch feminist in life-- I know how vitally important it is for women to have control of their own destinies, because nasty little men like him exist in droves, and if women cannot choose their own way in life, their own education, their own jobs, their reproductive freedoms, they will be stuck with mean men like him.
Cruel, spiteful, or malicious.
Ignoble; base: a mean motive.
Miserly; stingy.
Low in quality or grade; inferior.
Low in value or amount; paltry: paid no mean amount for the new shoes.
Common or poor in appearance; shabby: "The rowhouses had been darkened by the rain and looked meaner and grimmer than ever" (Anne Tyler).
Low in social status; of humble origins.
Humiliated or ashamed.
In poor physical condition; sick or debilitated.
Extremely unpleasant or disagreeable: The meanest storm in years.
Informal. Ill-tempered. from dictionary.com
But wait, what does this have to do with red?
I'm glad you asked. B. (I'll call him that just to be nice, which I am) used to say that women who wore "whore red" nail polish were, well, whores. And that, my friend, was the worst thing you could be in B's book. A woman who had the audacity to like red fingernails clearly must have been sexually promiscuous and nasty. No matter what other traits she might have. Heck, she might be saving orphans from a fire but if she had red fingernails while doing it, she was a whore and deserved to be smacked around.
Well. I love red. I have whore red fingernails RIGHT NOW and I adore the way my nails look, with slightly squared tips and this deep OPI "I'm Not Really a Waitress - NLH08 red" richness that screams "I AM IN CONTROL OF MY OWN DESTINY. MY OWN BODY. AND YOU, MEAN LITTLE MAN, ARE POINTLESS." (Also published at Kim Procrastinates)
Sunday, June 06, 2004
"Blonde Goes to Jail for Pictures of Moon" -- Film at 11
A couple of nights ago, I walked out my front door, telling my husband “I’m going to run down the road and take a few shots of the moon.” I got into my Cruiser, drove down Route 111, turned onto an access rode next to a subdivision, and began looking for the ‘perfect’ place to pull over for a picture of the moon. Unfortunately, one did not exist right off the bat, as I’d hoped.
A couple of blocks farther, one of the major refineries in this area, began. I promptly looked for any signs that might suggest my presence was unwelcome, yet none existed. Instead, the only sign I read said something to the effect of “Caution: Remote Control Locomotives cross here.” This is about the time I started seeing the golden hue of the moon poking through a few sparsely placed trees. My excitement grew, and I drove on. Suddenly a sign for a Dead End… Damn! I thought… but that is when I noticed a tiny clump of trees, and in between nestled the moon. Large, golden-reddish in hue, and absolutely BRILLIANT.
Maybe I should explain something, first. I’m on a quest for the perfect picture of the moon. Not one that other people take, but one that I take. I have NO idea what’s caused this need, but it’s there, thus I must quench my thirst for it by trying.
Anyway… I stop the car, listening to Hot Chocolate’s “Sexy Thing”, or whatever the title, and jump out with camera in hand. After only a few snaps of the camera, a white truck pulled up behind me flashing its bright lights. I waved the truck around, yet it just sat there, finally allowing the brights to stay fixed on me. Needless to say, I was scared shitless for I had no idea who this was, due to the person’s lack of introduction, jumped back into my car and turned around.
At this point, the person tried to block me from leaving. I assumed ‘it’ were a mugger or rapist. I shot around the truck through the grass even, and left. The truck then proceeded to turn around and speed up to me, of which, I hit the gas and took off like a bat out of hell. I called my girlfriend, told her what had happened, then pulled into my driveway… only to find two police officers standing on my sidewalk.
For more on this, go here.
A couple of blocks farther, one of the major refineries in this area, began. I promptly looked for any signs that might suggest my presence was unwelcome, yet none existed. Instead, the only sign I read said something to the effect of “Caution: Remote Control Locomotives cross here.” This is about the time I started seeing the golden hue of the moon poking through a few sparsely placed trees. My excitement grew, and I drove on. Suddenly a sign for a Dead End… Damn! I thought… but that is when I noticed a tiny clump of trees, and in between nestled the moon. Large, golden-reddish in hue, and absolutely BRILLIANT.
Maybe I should explain something, first. I’m on a quest for the perfect picture of the moon. Not one that other people take, but one that I take. I have NO idea what’s caused this need, but it’s there, thus I must quench my thirst for it by trying.
Anyway… I stop the car, listening to Hot Chocolate’s “Sexy Thing”, or whatever the title, and jump out with camera in hand. After only a few snaps of the camera, a white truck pulled up behind me flashing its bright lights. I waved the truck around, yet it just sat there, finally allowing the brights to stay fixed on me. Needless to say, I was scared shitless for I had no idea who this was, due to the person’s lack of introduction, jumped back into my car and turned around.
At this point, the person tried to block me from leaving. I assumed ‘it’ were a mugger or rapist. I shot around the truck through the grass even, and left. The truck then proceeded to turn around and speed up to me, of which, I hit the gas and took off like a bat out of hell. I called my girlfriend, told her what had happened, then pulled into my driveway… only to find two police officers standing on my sidewalk.
For more on this, go here.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Fighting Negative Body Image MEssages In The Media
I was just send a link to this great website: http://www.about-face.org/ It has a list of offending images and a list of images that show empowered women.
We all know this is a big issue, it's probably got a greater influence than most of us realize. I think I'm lucky to have grown up watching classic movies more than I looked at magazines, my mental image of a gorgeous woman is Ingrid Bergman in a well tailoerd suit with a ridiculous 1940's hat, or Katherine Hepburn playing golf, not a twig-legged girl lying prone and submissive in a transparent dress (one of the images listed on the "bad" side").
This isn't the worst thing going on in the world right now, but it's still worth our attention.
We all know this is a big issue, it's probably got a greater influence than most of us realize. I think I'm lucky to have grown up watching classic movies more than I looked at magazines, my mental image of a gorgeous woman is Ingrid Bergman in a well tailoerd suit with a ridiculous 1940's hat, or Katherine Hepburn playing golf, not a twig-legged girl lying prone and submissive in a transparent dress (one of the images listed on the "bad" side").
This isn't the worst thing going on in the world right now, but it's still worth our attention.
Friday, May 21, 2004
Google Me Kate
One of my all-time favorite movies, DESK SET, finally came out on DVD on May 4th. For me this is a joyous occasion that warrants reprinting a little piece I wrote last winter:
Among the holiday films that show up this time of year, the one I’m really waiting to see again, for the umpteenth time, is DESK SET. It’s not available on DVD, and I refuse to buy even one more VHS tape, so I depend on one or more of the cable channels showing it at least once a year. Made in 1957. Stars Tracy and Hepburn. Set in the corporate offices of a fictional TV network called the Federal Broadcasting Corporation, or FBC. On the small chance you couldn’t figure it out for yourself, it's NBC and NBC headquarters at 30 Rockefeller Center (“30 Rock” to quote Benjy Stone in MY FAVORITE YEAR, another film about a TV network in the ‘50s). The screenplay was written by Henry and Phoebe Ephron, 40 years before their daughters Nora and Delia would whip up another little cyber rom-com, YOU'VE GOT MAIL.
Hepburn plays Bunny Watson, head of the network’s Reference Department. Kate and co-workers Joan Blondell, Dina Merrill and Sue Randall [aka the Beav's teacher Miss Landers], toil merrily --or, in Dina’s case Merrilly--all day long, forming a gal-powered search engine which serves the network as a kind of ur-Google. "The girls" spend their daily 9 to 5 tracking down answers to questions such as:
What kind of car does the king of the Watusis drive?
And:
How much damage is caused annually to American forests by the sprucebud worm?
In short: these women have my dream job, and it's *still* my dream job just as much now as it was way back when I first saw this movie, probably 30 years ago or more.
Kate and her staff, when not busy researching myriad fascinating topics, are forever going downstairs to the corporate lunch counter for a coffee break, or spending the noon hour drooling over fabulous outfits at Bonwit Teller, or dishing via the company grapevine, a secretarial backchannel that keeps everyone instantly updated on who’s been promoted and who’s getting the dreaded pink slip.
Kate/Bunny is a valued corporate commodity, compensated well enough to wear Adrian and St. Laurent duds and live in a swanky midtown apartment with a fireplace and vaulted ceilings. There she spends her off hours preparing the kind of desserts nobody makes in 2004, like “Floating Island”, whatever that is, and waiting for phone calls from her up-and-coming VP boyfriend who has a problem with commitment, as that kind of executive boyfriend always does. His looks are of the flippant, smarmy, Gig Young variety; possibly because he’s played by Gig Young. Kate fusses and sighs over him and pays him all the expected attentions, Gig being a real Catch and all, but it’s clear that she’s just going through the motions; doing her best 1950s career gal swoon while wondering if she will ever meet her intellectual equal… her soulmate… the man of her dreams.
Right on cue, Spencer Tracy comes shambling into the Reference department and wordlessly begins measuring the floor space, making cryptic entries on a little notepad, reading over the women’s shoulders, and generally being a giant pain in the patoot. Eventually he introduces himself as Richard Sumner, an efficiency expert hired by the head of the network. Tracy/Sumner is an absent-minded scientist type who wears mismatched socks and has no perceptible social skills. He’s a great admirer of Beauty With Brains, plus he’s cute as a Gund teddy bear himself, so it’s perfectly obvious what will happen next. Kate eyes him and simultaneously is drawn to a fellow egghead, is appalled by his proto-geekiness, and suspects that he’s the harbinger of corporate downsizing for her beloved troop of research gals. But even so, how can she resist? He IS played by Spencer Tracy, after all. Sh-boom! It’s love!
Being such a couple of whizkids, it’s no time at all before Kate deduces that Tracy is actually the developer of one of those newfangled “electronic brains”, and Tracy learns that Hepburn can solve logic problems and deconstruct palindromes while sitting outside in sub-zero temperatures eating a roast beef sandwich.
Falling hard, Tracy compares Kate to a rare tropical fish, an analogy that sends shivers through the besotted Hepburn even more than the Arctic blast raking across the rooftop the eccentric Tracy has chosen as the site for a late-November lunch date.
Kate guesses that Tracy is planning to install his invention, a livingroom-sized computer named EMERAC, in the reference department. She also surmises that EMERAC is meant to replace her and Joan and Dina and Sue. Oh! What will happen? What will happen??! (as the soon to be spoiled by success Rock Hunter was wont to say in that very same year of 1957).
And that's the set up. The rest of the movie is all false assumptions, mistaken identities, witty ripostes, banter and silliness. Kate and Joan get plastered at the company Christmas party and keep calling the Lexington Avenue bus “the Mexican Avenue bus”, which for some reason is hilarious. Tracy gets soaked in a rainstorm and has to take refuge in Hepburn's apartment, where he must doff his wet clothes and innocently don the gift bathrobe meant for Gig, who of course puts in a surprise appearance just in time to Assume the Worst. (Kate, you slut!) Then Tracy puts the finishing touch on his conquest of Hepburn's heart by doing a comedic impression of a disheveled drunk guy, which reduces her to a snorking, guffawing puddle of mirth.
EMERAC arrives along with Miss Warriner, an operator-technician who is obviously a tight-sphinctered prig, which we of course know instantly because she wears a drab business suit, glasses, and her hair all neurotically clenched up in a bun. Hilariously, Miss W is also such a cultural illiterate that in the climactic scene she incorrectly inputs the name of the island Corfu as “Curfew”, which makes EMERAC go all haywire and inspires Kate to render a few melodramatic verses of the Rose Hartwick Thorpe chestnut “Curfew Must Not Ring To-night!”.
It should be noted that EMERAC, one of the very few computers that can be fixed with a single bobbypin, is portrayed in this film by a 8' by 12' rectangle of synchronized flashing lights which went on to co-star in the movie and TV series “Voyage To the Bottom of the Sea” and a couple episodes of “Star Trek” a few years later.
Ultimately everything works out fine. Tracy and Hepburn end up in a clinch, and the credits roll...on perforated-paper computer printouts, of course.
I just love it. Always have. Everyone else seems to rank this movie way down with the lesser entries in the Tracy-Hepburn ouevre, such as SEA OF GRASS and KEEPER OF THE FLAME. But for me, DESK SET sits squarely up on top of the heap. Even the classic ADAM'S RIB can’t exceed it in providing sheer, perfect enjoyment.
And finally, how could anyone resist a movie where Katharine Hepburn plays a character named Bunny? I rest my case.
Crossposted on Tild~.
Among the holiday films that show up this time of year, the one I’m really waiting to see again, for the umpteenth time, is DESK SET. It’s not available on DVD, and I refuse to buy even one more VHS tape, so I depend on one or more of the cable channels showing it at least once a year. Made in 1957. Stars Tracy and Hepburn. Set in the corporate offices of a fictional TV network called the Federal Broadcasting Corporation, or FBC. On the small chance you couldn’t figure it out for yourself, it's NBC and NBC headquarters at 30 Rockefeller Center (“30 Rock” to quote Benjy Stone in MY FAVORITE YEAR, another film about a TV network in the ‘50s). The screenplay was written by Henry and Phoebe Ephron, 40 years before their daughters Nora and Delia would whip up another little cyber rom-com, YOU'VE GOT MAIL.
Hepburn plays Bunny Watson, head of the network’s Reference Department. Kate and co-workers Joan Blondell, Dina Merrill and Sue Randall [aka the Beav's teacher Miss Landers], toil merrily --or, in Dina’s case Merrilly--all day long, forming a gal-powered search engine which serves the network as a kind of ur-Google. "The girls" spend their daily 9 to 5 tracking down answers to questions such as:
What kind of car does the king of the Watusis drive?
And:
How much damage is caused annually to American forests by the sprucebud worm?
In short: these women have my dream job, and it's *still* my dream job just as much now as it was way back when I first saw this movie, probably 30 years ago or more.
Kate and her staff, when not busy researching myriad fascinating topics, are forever going downstairs to the corporate lunch counter for a coffee break, or spending the noon hour drooling over fabulous outfits at Bonwit Teller, or dishing via the company grapevine, a secretarial backchannel that keeps everyone instantly updated on who’s been promoted and who’s getting the dreaded pink slip.
Kate/Bunny is a valued corporate commodity, compensated well enough to wear Adrian and St. Laurent duds and live in a swanky midtown apartment with a fireplace and vaulted ceilings. There she spends her off hours preparing the kind of desserts nobody makes in 2004, like “Floating Island”, whatever that is, and waiting for phone calls from her up-and-coming VP boyfriend who has a problem with commitment, as that kind of executive boyfriend always does. His looks are of the flippant, smarmy, Gig Young variety; possibly because he’s played by Gig Young. Kate fusses and sighs over him and pays him all the expected attentions, Gig being a real Catch and all, but it’s clear that she’s just going through the motions; doing her best 1950s career gal swoon while wondering if she will ever meet her intellectual equal… her soulmate… the man of her dreams.
Right on cue, Spencer Tracy comes shambling into the Reference department and wordlessly begins measuring the floor space, making cryptic entries on a little notepad, reading over the women’s shoulders, and generally being a giant pain in the patoot. Eventually he introduces himself as Richard Sumner, an efficiency expert hired by the head of the network. Tracy/Sumner is an absent-minded scientist type who wears mismatched socks and has no perceptible social skills. He’s a great admirer of Beauty With Brains, plus he’s cute as a Gund teddy bear himself, so it’s perfectly obvious what will happen next. Kate eyes him and simultaneously is drawn to a fellow egghead, is appalled by his proto-geekiness, and suspects that he’s the harbinger of corporate downsizing for her beloved troop of research gals. But even so, how can she resist? He IS played by Spencer Tracy, after all. Sh-boom! It’s love!
Being such a couple of whizkids, it’s no time at all before Kate deduces that Tracy is actually the developer of one of those newfangled “electronic brains”, and Tracy learns that Hepburn can solve logic problems and deconstruct palindromes while sitting outside in sub-zero temperatures eating a roast beef sandwich.
Falling hard, Tracy compares Kate to a rare tropical fish, an analogy that sends shivers through the besotted Hepburn even more than the Arctic blast raking across the rooftop the eccentric Tracy has chosen as the site for a late-November lunch date.
Kate guesses that Tracy is planning to install his invention, a livingroom-sized computer named EMERAC, in the reference department. She also surmises that EMERAC is meant to replace her and Joan and Dina and Sue. Oh! What will happen? What will happen??! (as the soon to be spoiled by success Rock Hunter was wont to say in that very same year of 1957).
And that's the set up. The rest of the movie is all false assumptions, mistaken identities, witty ripostes, banter and silliness. Kate and Joan get plastered at the company Christmas party and keep calling the Lexington Avenue bus “the Mexican Avenue bus”, which for some reason is hilarious. Tracy gets soaked in a rainstorm and has to take refuge in Hepburn's apartment, where he must doff his wet clothes and innocently don the gift bathrobe meant for Gig, who of course puts in a surprise appearance just in time to Assume the Worst. (Kate, you slut!) Then Tracy puts the finishing touch on his conquest of Hepburn's heart by doing a comedic impression of a disheveled drunk guy, which reduces her to a snorking, guffawing puddle of mirth.
EMERAC arrives along with Miss Warriner, an operator-technician who is obviously a tight-sphinctered prig, which we of course know instantly because she wears a drab business suit, glasses, and her hair all neurotically clenched up in a bun. Hilariously, Miss W is also such a cultural illiterate that in the climactic scene she incorrectly inputs the name of the island Corfu as “Curfew”, which makes EMERAC go all haywire and inspires Kate to render a few melodramatic verses of the Rose Hartwick Thorpe chestnut “Curfew Must Not Ring To-night!”.
It should be noted that EMERAC, one of the very few computers that can be fixed with a single bobbypin, is portrayed in this film by a 8' by 12' rectangle of synchronized flashing lights which went on to co-star in the movie and TV series “Voyage To the Bottom of the Sea” and a couple episodes of “Star Trek” a few years later.
Ultimately everything works out fine. Tracy and Hepburn end up in a clinch, and the credits roll...on perforated-paper computer printouts, of course.
I just love it. Always have. Everyone else seems to rank this movie way down with the lesser entries in the Tracy-Hepburn ouevre, such as SEA OF GRASS and KEEPER OF THE FLAME. But for me, DESK SET sits squarely up on top of the heap. Even the classic ADAM'S RIB can’t exceed it in providing sheer, perfect enjoyment.
And finally, how could anyone resist a movie where Katharine Hepburn plays a character named Bunny? I rest my case.
Crossposted on Tild~.
Let's Not Forget Children
Food is one of the most elemental components of survival and growth. Yet in the summer, when school lets out, the number of children receiving supplemental lunches drops from 15 million to 3 million. Many of these children come from families considered the "working poor." They just don't have enough income to make ends meet, and the school lunch program is a way of getting at least one decent meal into their children. Eights weeks of feeding two school-age children in the summer strains the family budget. Attempting to solve this problem via governmental program alone is cumbersome and ineffective. You have the power to make a difference in a very tangible way. Go shopping and bring your purchases to a local food bank. Donate money in the summer and not just at holiday time.
The National Association of Letter Carriers held its food drive a couple of Saturdays ago. In the past decade, they have collected 586,800,000 pounds of food during their annual drive. If you missed this opportunity, you can search for your local food bank on the America's Second Harvest site.
The National Association of Letter Carriers held its food drive a couple of Saturdays ago. In the past decade, they have collected 586,800,000 pounds of food during their annual drive. If you missed this opportunity, you can search for your local food bank on the America's Second Harvest site.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
unlock the secrets
why is mass media always unlocking the secrets of the lcd . . . lowest common denominator - cnn purports to unlock the secrets of the mind of a serial killer i submit, unlock the secrets of Malcolm X, unlock the secrets of Mother Teresa, unlock the secrets of the mind of M. Gandhi, or Rosa Parks
p-lease people - unlock something enlightening besides your violence
peace, cassie
p-lease people - unlock something enlightening besides your violence
peace, cassie
Saturday, May 15, 2004
American Expectations?
I am enjoying the warm shower spray when I realize that maybe this may be the answer to the biggest problem in Iraq in May 2004. U.S. leaders and policy makers are moaning: Why don't they like us? Why are they acting ungrateful? What's wrong with the average Iraqi on the street?
I'm not talking about assassins who behead American captives for the video camera. I'm talking about the average Iraqi with access to newspapers and satellite TV. The image and expectation of the citizens of America-occupied-Iraqi may be exactly the one we feed the world daily through our media.
It's the shower with hot running water. It's the working traffic light on the corner, the timely pick-up of garbage, the food on the grocery shelves, the plumbing that flushes, the light that comes on at the flick of a switch. It's air conditioning, malls and smiling people in jeans. It's cars on smooth ribbons of paved super highways that America sells to the world. The lifestyle we take for granted: where everything works, the alarm goes off, we brew our electric perked coffee, the paper gets delivered, the school bus picks up the kids. It's that everyday routine. Life is easy and we take it for granted.
When everyday Iraqi's heard America was coming, that's what they thought they would get. The ease of a life where everything works the way it's supposed to, where logic applies, and they're in the flow.
Instead, we created chaos in a country where the normalcy was oppression, where any day, at any time, something could slip out of the routine into violence. But, when the Americans came, they may have been certain all this would be resolved. We can live in peace instead of fear, they may have said. We will have the certainties of the Americans; we will have a harmony of things that work, an abundance of goods, a routine of services just like those Americans. Instead we got more chaos and we resent it.
Cross posted at Its Certainly Time
Friday, May 14, 2004
Mis-Education President
In an effort to court female voters, Bush now has wife Laura touting his failed education policy in a campaign ad. As I mentioned previously, I wrote an essay for Big Bush Lies about the unfunded mandate scam referred to in polite company as "No Child Left Behind." Edited by Jerry "Politex" Barrett of BushWatch fame, the book includes 20 essays about George W. Bush written by academics, legal experts, financial leaders, activists, and journalists. You can order it directly from the publisher, Riverwood Books.
In the meantime, if you want to know what's wrong with the ad and with Bush's education policy, this FactCheck.org article is a must read. And here's my "poetic" take on the same topic:
Mis-Education President
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Bush swore he'd leave no child behind,
A very worthy goal.
Instead, he left the states a great big budgetary hole.
States' rights must be preserved, Dub said.
The states know what is best.
Then signed a law he failed to fund, which makes them test, test, test.
Bush said they have to test to prove
That kids learn what they must.
Then handed out a budget that betrays our nation's trust.
The rest of my Mis-Education President is here.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Robot Stories - Socio Consc. Film Info
Greetings Blog Sistahzzz,
I am new to the blog and wanted to share my passion for film and postmodern theory by turning your attention toward a new independent film. I have not seen it yet but they have an awesome website and a blog and i thought that some of the blog sisters would enjoy the content as i have and may be able to catch the film as it travels to different locations.
take care, cassiopeia
Info on me:
website: Alamo Gallery
blog: Lisaz Slam
--- copy and paste from Robot Stories website --
Winner of over 30 awards, "Robot Stories" is science fiction from the heart, four stories starring Tamlyn Tomita ("Joy Luck Club," "Babylon 5") and Sab Shimono ("The Big Hit," "Suture") in which utterly human characters struggle to connect in a world of robot babies and android office workers. The stories include: "My Robot Baby," in which a couple must care for a robot baby before adopting a human child; "The Robot Fixer," in which a mother tries to connect with her dying son by completing his toy robot collection; "Machine Love," in which an office worker android learns that he, too, needs love; and "Clay," in which an old sculptor must choose between natural death and digital immortality. John Petrakis of the Chicago Tribune calls the film "one of the most moving pieces I've seen all year" while Entertainment Insiders calls it "the kind of science fiction sophisticated audiences crave and deserve."
I am new to the blog and wanted to share my passion for film and postmodern theory by turning your attention toward a new independent film. I have not seen it yet but they have an awesome website and a blog and i thought that some of the blog sisters would enjoy the content as i have and may be able to catch the film as it travels to different locations.
take care, cassiopeia
Info on me:
website: Alamo Gallery
blog: Lisaz Slam
--- copy and paste from Robot Stories website --
Winner of over 30 awards, "Robot Stories" is science fiction from the heart, four stories starring Tamlyn Tomita ("Joy Luck Club," "Babylon 5") and Sab Shimono ("The Big Hit," "Suture") in which utterly human characters struggle to connect in a world of robot babies and android office workers. The stories include: "My Robot Baby," in which a couple must care for a robot baby before adopting a human child; "The Robot Fixer," in which a mother tries to connect with her dying son by completing his toy robot collection; "Machine Love," in which an office worker android learns that he, too, needs love; and "Clay," in which an old sculptor must choose between natural death and digital immortality. John Petrakis of the Chicago Tribune calls the film "one of the most moving pieces I've seen all year" while Entertainment Insiders calls it "the kind of science fiction sophisticated audiences crave and deserve."
Running mates: the roundup.
If you'll humor me for a moment, I'd like to present my completely unqualified opinion on Kerry's possible running mates, and what the deal with each of them is. I've read a lot of things from a lot of different sources, and I thought it was about time to put it all together into one "defininitive" list. So far, only Edwards, Clark, and Vilsack have been vetted (Kerry's close friend Jim Johnson is in charge of the official scouting process), but a lot of other names have been tossed around. Okay. Here we go.
The Short List:
The Longer List:
Even though only one person will end up being Kerry's running mate, it doesn't mean these people will just drop off the radar. It's worth pointing out that Kerry and Edwards were both finalists on Gore's list, edged out only by Lieberman. So keep these folks in mind, no matter what. You never know where they'll be in four years.
Is someone missing from my roundup? Let me know so that I can add them.
Thanks to Political Wire and Electablog for linking to so many good articles about the election. Here's a partial list of the articles I read in doing research for this guide:
Cross-posted at Fire & Ice.
The Short List:
- John Edwards: Senator Edwards (from North Carolina) gained fame and fans during his run for the Democratic nomination. Because of his obvious charm and charisma, he's been described as a young version of Clinton, which could help balance Kerry's purported lack of personality. On the other hand, some say Edwards might overshadow Kerry on the campaign trail, which would be bad. Additionally, some people worry that the class warfare rhetoric that helped his cause during primaries will not be popular with moderates, and that his complete lack of foreign policy experience will continue to work against him on the national stage. Still, Edwards' roots in North Carolina might help Kerry win some Southern states, his optimistic message has made him very popular, and the ladies love him.
- Dick Gephardt: With a long career in public service -- including twenty-six years in Congress -- Gephardt is seen as a safe pick. He has plenty of national campaign experience, since he's now run for president twice. Unfortunately, he's lost both of those bids of course, and nobody wants a perpetual loser on their ticket -- especially one who would be considered a rather boring and predictable choice.
- Tom Vilsack: As governor of Iowa, Vilsack helped Kerry win his state during the caucuses. He's Roman Catholic and was raised in western Pennsylvania, two biographical details that could help a Democratic ticket win critical segments of the population (namely people in Western PA and religious folks). The Midwest is another expected battleground in which an Iowa governor could definitely be an asset. Also, his orphan-from-an-abusive-foster-home story beats Edwards' mill town sob story anyday. Unfortunately, even though Vilsack is chairman of the Democratic Governors Association, he is hardly a household name, and some question whether he would have the experience to step in as president.
- Bob Graham: This election year marks Graham's fourth year on the short list for VP (also in 2000, 1992 and 1988). Graham is hugely popular in bigtime swing state Florida (twenty-seven very key electoral votes), where he's a senior senator and has never lost a statewide election. He has that stale loser smell about him now though, since he dropped his bid for the presidency before Carol Moseley Braun. Some say his failed bid proved how bad he is at national campaigning, which is simply no good for a VP, whose main campaign duty is, well -- to campaign. Additionally, Graham keeps these strange compulsive notebooks in which he records everything (from constituent requests to when he went to the bathroom), and Gore's team found it weird enough to disqualify him.
- Wesley Clark: Retired military general Clark lost his bid for the Democratic nomination, but gained a place in the national spotlight. He's a former Rhodes scholar (like Bill Clinton) and had the coolest title ever as Supreme Commander of Allied Forces (head of NATO). He's also from Arkansas (like Clinton), which could help Kerry in the South. But Clark has never been a senator, congressman, or governor, so many question whether he's qualified for the executive office. Also, he voted for Reagan. Ew.
The Longer List:
- Joseph Biden: Sixty-one-year-old Biden, Democratic senator from Delaware, is considered one of the party's experts on foreign policy. He's been in the Senate for thirty-one years, and even considered running for president this year. He was top Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, supported military action against Iraq, and is less critical of Bush than Kerry has been.
- Evan Bayh: Bayh, a senator from Indiana, succeeded former VP-hopeful Joe Lieberman to become chairman of the centrist Democratic Leadership Council. Rumors about Bayh as a possible contender for Kerry's VP started flying when he was spotted leaving his office with Jim Johnson.
- Bill Richardson: Richardson is governor of swing state New Mexico, and -- as the only Hispanic governor in the country -- may be an asset in a close election. During the last election, Gore learned the hard way that the Latino vote could be critical in many battleground states. But that's not all Richardson has going for him. He also served in the House, as a U.N. ambassador, and as Energy Secretary under Clinton. Unfortunately, some controversies about security lapses at nuclear facilities while he was Energy Secretary might come back to haunt him if he runs on a national ticket. Additionally, Richardson has said that he plans on completely his term as governor.
- Sam Nunn: The former senator from Georgia has centrist policies and strong credentials on defense issues that have been cited as good for a possible VP. Despite some buzz about him in the press, Nunn has specifically said (a) Kerry has not spoken with him, and (b) he would probably decline an invitation to be VP.
- Mark Warner: As Democratic governor of usually-Repblican Virginia, Warner's gubernatorial campaign was bolstered by the fact that he ran as a fiscal conservative with a modern stance on gun issues. His recent tax hikes have made some question whether or not he's really a conservative, but his dashing young face might be just the thing statue man Kerry needs.
- Bill Nelson: Senator from Florida whose energy and eloquence on TV has been duly noted by high-ups in Washington eager to put a little vim into Kerry's campaign.
- Max Cleland: A former senator from Georgia, Cleland is also a fellow Vietnam vet who has defended Kerry's positions on national security by saying to the Bushies: "If you don't go to war, don't throw rocks at those who do."
- Jane Harman: The Democratic Congresswoman from the Santa Monica region of California is ranking member of House Intelligence Committee and is considered strong on fighting terrorism. She's apparently done a lot of flip-flopping with her voting though, which is not the kind of consistency accused flip-flopper Kerry needs.
- Howard Dean: Governor Dean still has legions of loyal supporters and continues to receive campaign nominations even though his campaign is officially over. Still, many have pointed out that he does not have the required chemistry with Kerry and that they really went head to head during the primaries. Also, Dean is from the Northeast, like Kerry, and -- geographically speaking -- that's just not what Kerry needs.
- Hillary Clinton: She's one of the party's best fundraisers, but -- while she's hugely popular with some -- lots of people hate her. Also, she might overshadow Kerry on the ticket, and she's said time and again that she plans to finish her term as New York State senator.
- John McCain: I know he's a Republican, but some have said he's just what Kerry needs to score a definitive win in November. During his 2000 campaign for the Republican nomination, he was a big hit with the media and with moderates in both camps. McCain and Kerry are close personal friends. But if we're talking about likelihood, a comment from McCain's spokeperson Marshall Wittmann (responding to rumors about McCain being Kerry's pick for VP) is worth noting: "It's not going to happen -- end of story, period, exclamation mark."
- Beyonce: I'm not trying to ruin my credibility here, I'm just trying to do a full roundup. I'm not making the suggestions, I'm just listing them. Okay? So. Dave Pell of Electablog points out that the former Destiny's Child singer is adored by the public, has beat everyone she's come up against, and certainly would be an outside-the-box choice for someone considered very much inside the box.
- Dave Pell: That's right, Dave Pell of Electablog, Forbes Magazine's #1 political blog, has also nominated himself. I thought it was at least worth mentioning. You disagree? Too bad.
Even though only one person will end up being Kerry's running mate, it doesn't mean these people will just drop off the radar. It's worth pointing out that Kerry and Edwards were both finalists on Gore's list, edged out only by Lieberman. So keep these folks in mind, no matter what. You never know where they'll be in four years.
Is someone missing from my roundup? Let me know so that I can add them.
Thanks to Political Wire and Electablog for linking to so many good articles about the election. Here's a partial list of the articles I read in doing research for this guide:
- Biden pushed as Kerry VP pick Robert Novak in Chicago Sun-Times
- Kerry's Latest Colors Howard Fineman and T. Trent Gegax in Newsweek
- Unofficial VP audition at Democrats' meeting Billy House in Arizona Republic
- Presidential candidates court Hispanic voters Annabelle Garay Associated Press
- Nunn likely would say no to Kerry Houston Chronicle
- Harkin consulted in VP search Jane Norman in Des Moines Register
- Handicapping the ticket [pdf] Mark Barabak in Los Angeles Times
- Running Mate Rumors Fly Mark Barabak in Los Angeles Times
- The Running Story of John McCain Howard Kurtz in Washington Post
- Kerry's Running Mate Still a Guessing Game Lois Romano in Washington Post
- Kerry's Running-Mate Review Weighs War, Economy, Regional Votes Bloomberg News
- What John Kerry Needs: The Estrogen Factor Lakshmi Chaudhry on Alternet
- Bob Graham back in the race - for VP Adam Smith in St. Petersburg Times
- 4 potential running mate picks hit trail with Kerry Patrick Healy in Boston Globe
- How To Pick a Running Mate David Shuster on MSNBC
Cross-posted at Fire & Ice.
Fire Rumsfeld: Action Center
Fire Rumsfeld: Action Center
Take action now! This is a little mild for my taste- I think he should be prosecuted for War Crimes- but an investigation is step one.
Take action now! This is a little mild for my taste- I think he should be prosecuted for War Crimes- but an investigation is step one.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Iraqi Female Prisoners Face Future of Shame -- or Death
One woman told her attorney that she was forced to disrobe in front of male prison guards. After much coaxing, another woman described how she was raped by U.S. soldiers. Then she fainted.
Raped by a U.S. soldier and then she fainted. Removing a woman's headscarf is traumatic enough. But rape? I can't even wrap my head around these heart-breaking accounts. We normally embrace victims here in the US, but the culture is so much different in Iraq.
A woman who is raped brings shame on her family in the Islamic world. In many cases, rape victims have been killed by their relatives to salvage family honor, although there is no evidence this has happened to women who have been prisoners in Iraq.
As the administration decides when or if to publish more prison abuse photos, let's hope the identity of all the victims remain anonymous. I wish we didn't know the identity of the first prisoners photographed. The stigma is unbearable, and they're already emotionally sentenced to a lifetime of humiliation and disgrace.
--Tracy Wilkinson, LATimes
[link] - (no registration)
Posted by: Susan Cook & cross-posted to - Easy Bake Coven.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Alice Sheldon and James Tiptree Jr.
What do these names have in common? They both belonged to this person. I've been thinking about Tiptree stories a lot lately. I haven't read them for years, but I plan to pull out my copies of OUT OF THE EVERYWHERE and UP THE WALLS OF THE WORLD and refresh my memory.
If you're an SF fan of a certain age, what I'm about to tell you is a well known story of a well known author. ....Probably well known. It's been so long since I last read SF and Fantasy regularly, and I am now so far removed from the fen of my youth, I don't remember anymore just how popular Tiptree was during her writing career that lasted roughly 20 years--1968 to 1987-- but I believe she was fairly well-known at the time, and certainly won many awards. For those of you who have never heard of James Tiptree Jr., a pseudonym used by the author Alice Sheldon, nor of Alice Sheldon herself, nor read any of her remarkable, razor-sharp writing: it's time you did.
Galen Strickland has done a fine job of summarizing Sheldon's life on his most excellent site The Templeton Gate.
The story I think of most these days is "Houston, Houston, Do You Read?" which was published in 1976 when Sheldon was 61. In it, three contemporary American astronauts are caught up in a time vortex that sends them several hundred years into the future. For reasons that are made apparent to the reader sooner than to the story's astronauts, there are no men alive on Earth in this future; the entire population consists of a few thousand women, cloned from a few basic genome types. When the male astronauts encounter no one who is not female, they grow increasingly frustrated that they are not meeting anyone 'with authority' , and ask repeatedly: "But, where are all the people?" (Meaning, where are all the men).
Now think about the current situation with Abu Ghraib prison. Male prisoners are being raped, tortured and abused, and the world reacts with disgust and horror. Female prisoners are being raped, tortured, and abused, and somehow the reaction of the world is much more matter of fact. Many people will be thinking: Yeah, ...so? This is the everyday world that women live in. Nothing unusual. A fact of life.
But, what about the people? You know: the men. Oh, well that's different. And why is that? They're not used to it. Rape, torture, and abuse are not a given, an everyday fact of life for men.
I'd love to read what Alice Sheldon would say about Abu Ghraib.
She and her husband "Ting" (short for Huntington) in later years spent much time in the state of Quintana Roo in Mexico. The Quintana Roo is part of the Yucatan Peninsula; the area which contains Cancún, Cozumel, Isla Mujeres and Tulum. It is the home of the modern-day descendants of the Mayans. "Alli" and Ting had a great love for this area, and Alice wrote several memorable stories about it, collected in the volume TALES OF THE QUINTANA ROO, published in 1986.
I gave my sister and her husband a copy of that book one of the first years they went down to Akumal, a still relatively sleepy little town sixty miles south of Cancún, in the heart of the Quintana Roo. When they returned I was delighted to hear that they had not only read the book cover to cover during their stay in Akumal, but also were so thoroughly spooked by the stories they stayed awake an entire night, sitting on the beach with a lone lit candle, watching the moonlight on the waves.
On May 19, 1987, at the age of 71, Alice Sheldon took the life of her invalid husband, aged 84, and then shot herself in the head. They were found dead, hand in hand in bed, in their McLean, Virginia home.
Whatever you do, do NOT end your reading about Alice Sheldon before visiting this wonderful site, and especially the deeply personal remembrance by her close friend Mark Siegel.
The James Tiptree Jr. Award is an annual literary prize for science fiction or fantasy that expands or explores our understanding of gender. Created and first given in 1991, it is awarded annually at WisCon, the world's only feminist SF convention. WisCon 28 will be held on Memorial Day weekend, May 28-31, 2004 in Madison, Wisconsin.
Cross-posted on my blog.
If you're an SF fan of a certain age, what I'm about to tell you is a well known story of a well known author. ....Probably well known. It's been so long since I last read SF and Fantasy regularly, and I am now so far removed from the fen of my youth, I don't remember anymore just how popular Tiptree was during her writing career that lasted roughly 20 years--1968 to 1987-- but I believe she was fairly well-known at the time, and certainly won many awards. For those of you who have never heard of James Tiptree Jr., a pseudonym used by the author Alice Sheldon, nor of Alice Sheldon herself, nor read any of her remarkable, razor-sharp writing: it's time you did.
Galen Strickland has done a fine job of summarizing Sheldon's life on his most excellent site The Templeton Gate.
James Tiptree, Jr. [was] the most commonly used pseudonym of Dr. Alice Hastings Bradley Sheldon (1915-1987), a clinically trained psychologist and a former operative of the C. I. A. Her father was a lawyer and world traveller and her mother was a world-famous geographer and author of more than thirty travel books. Much of her formative years were spent in Africa and India and her first career was that of a graphic artist and painter. She then joined the Army and spent most of World War 2 in a Pentagon sub-basement, working in photo intelligence for the Army Air Corps. It was there she met her second husband, Huntington Sheldon.
She was discharged in 1946 having obtained the rank of Major. The Sheldons attempted a business venture, which failed. They both then joined the newly formed C. I. A., her husband retaining his position with that agency when she resigned in 1955. She attended college sporadically for many years, and also taught statistics and psychology. She obtained her doctorate in experimental psychology in 1967. The following year her first SF story - "Birth of a Salesman" - appeared in Analog (as by Tiptree), although she had previously published a story in The New Yorker under her real name as early as 1946.
Her pen-name was derived from a brand label on a jar of marmalade - don't bother looking for that label in your supermarket unless you live in England - and her most convincing argument for its use was that her business colleagues would be sure to censure her if they knew she wrote science fiction. Her true identity was not known for many years by even the editors who purchased her stories. She never met or spoke on the telephone with anyone connected with publishing, and all correspondence was directed to a post office box in rural Virginia. In various letters to editors, fanzines, and other writers an outline of her biography was given, and although her work included several sensitive and sympathetic female characters, it was generally assumed that Tiptree was male. I have never been sure exactly when and by whom her deception was discovered, but it did not occur until sometime in 1976, around the time of the death of her mother. As late as 1975, Robert Silverberg, in his introduction to Tiptree's second short story collection, Warm Worlds and Otherwise, would make this very bold and now obviously incorrect remark:
"It has been suggested that Tiptree is female,
a theory that I find absurd, for there is to me something
ineluctably masculine about Tiptree's writing."
This was for a collection that included a story which in retrospect should have given us unmistakable clues as to the gender of the writer. The title itself is quite ironic - "The Women Men Don't See" - and the story is a veritable microcosm of the man/woman dilemma. The narrator is a male who escorts two women toward their rendezvous with an alien spacecraft. He is unable to understand their motives, but it is evident they view the adventure as merely trading one set of alien masters for another which may prove to be more tolerable. This story was nominated for a Nebula in 1974, but Tiptree withdrew it from competition. She would later reveal to Ursula LeGuin her reason for doing so was the many remarks concerning the story being an example that a man was capable of writing interesting and sympathetic female characters, and a prize for the story would have only added to the deceit her pseudonym had already created.
The story I think of most these days is "Houston, Houston, Do You Read?" which was published in 1976 when Sheldon was 61. In it, three contemporary American astronauts are caught up in a time vortex that sends them several hundred years into the future. For reasons that are made apparent to the reader sooner than to the story's astronauts, there are no men alive on Earth in this future; the entire population consists of a few thousand women, cloned from a few basic genome types. When the male astronauts encounter no one who is not female, they grow increasingly frustrated that they are not meeting anyone 'with authority' , and ask repeatedly: "But, where are all the people?" (Meaning, where are all the men).
Now think about the current situation with Abu Ghraib prison. Male prisoners are being raped, tortured and abused, and the world reacts with disgust and horror. Female prisoners are being raped, tortured, and abused, and somehow the reaction of the world is much more matter of fact. Many people will be thinking: Yeah, ...so? This is the everyday world that women live in. Nothing unusual. A fact of life.
But, what about the people? You know: the men. Oh, well that's different. And why is that? They're not used to it. Rape, torture, and abuse are not a given, an everyday fact of life for men.
I'd love to read what Alice Sheldon would say about Abu Ghraib.
[Strickland]:
Along with "The Women Men Don't See," her second collection includes several other impressive stories, most notably two award winners, "Love is the Plan, the Plan is Death" (Nebula) and "The Girl Who Was Plugged In" (Hugo). The latter is considered by many to be the first of the cyberpunk tales, long before William Gibson arrived on the scene. Others that I would recommend are "All the Kinds of Yes" and "The Last Flight of Dr. Ain." STAR SONGS OF AN OLD PRIMATE was the next collection, published in 1978, a little more than a year following the revelation of Tiptree's true identity. The most notable story is again an investigation into the gulf between the sexes. "Houston, Houston, Do You Read?" won both the Hugo (in a tie with Spider Robinson's "By Any Other Name") and Nebula awards as the best novella published in 1976.
She and her husband "Ting" (short for Huntington) in later years spent much time in the state of Quintana Roo in Mexico. The Quintana Roo is part of the Yucatan Peninsula; the area which contains Cancún, Cozumel, Isla Mujeres and Tulum. It is the home of the modern-day descendants of the Mayans. "Alli" and Ting had a great love for this area, and Alice wrote several memorable stories about it, collected in the volume TALES OF THE QUINTANA ROO, published in 1986.
I gave my sister and her husband a copy of that book one of the first years they went down to Akumal, a still relatively sleepy little town sixty miles south of Cancún, in the heart of the Quintana Roo. When they returned I was delighted to hear that they had not only read the book cover to cover during their stay in Akumal, but also were so thoroughly spooked by the stories they stayed awake an entire night, sitting on the beach with a lone lit candle, watching the moonlight on the waves.
[Strickland]: Even though her persona was penetrated mid-way through her writing career, Tiptree/Sheldon will forever remain an intriguing mystery. She rarely spoke of her personal life, and never of her work for the government, so it is through her fiction we must attempt an analysis of her philosophy and her legacy. Sadly, the end of her life was as tragic as the previous years had been enigmatic. In failing health herself, she fulfilled a promise she had made to her now blind and bed-ridden husband years before.
On May 19, 1987, at the age of 71, Alice Sheldon took the life of her invalid husband, aged 84, and then shot herself in the head. They were found dead, hand in hand in bed, in their McLean, Virginia home.
Whatever you do, do NOT end your reading about Alice Sheldon before visiting this wonderful site, and especially the deeply personal remembrance by her close friend Mark Siegel.
The James Tiptree Jr. Award is an annual literary prize for science fiction or fantasy that expands or explores our understanding of gender. Created and first given in 1991, it is awarded annually at WisCon, the world's only feminist SF convention. WisCon 28 will be held on Memorial Day weekend, May 28-31, 2004 in Madison, Wisconsin.
Cross-posted on my blog.
Be part of a gender/internet survey.
I know from these two years of posts and contacts that various Blog Sisters have had experiences as "female bloggers" about which they feel very strongly. Here's a chance (or maybe, for some of you, another chance) to have your experiences counted in a data gathering dissertaion project.
Click here to participate in a online gender survey being conducted by Gemma Rietdyke, a graduate student at Manchester University.
This is how she describes her project:
On first consideration, the internet provides women with a genderless forum. A place where we can interact free from social barriers and restrictions that we experience in the real world which are mainly due to gender stereotyping and resulting behaviour. With no visual clues, we can in theory, interact with our online friends without being a woman and the inequalities and discrimination that we often face. However, in practice is this true? Many women have reported that they experience intimidation and harassment online simply for exuding or having a female persona. Other women report that the internet has empowered them as a woman, building their confidence as their opinions are takan on their merit rather than judged by their gender. Exploring this area of gender dynamics offers an insight into whether gender is a biological or social concept.
This is what Gemma told me: To date, I have been accused of
spamming, undertaking research 'that's not really life or death' and being a male basher the minute I enter into mixed forums. Can blog sisters help me?
C'mon. I know that many of you have experience-based opinions internet-related gender issues. Share them with Genna and get them included in an official study.
Click here to participate in a online gender survey being conducted by Gemma Rietdyke, a graduate student at Manchester University.
This is how she describes her project:
On first consideration, the internet provides women with a genderless forum. A place where we can interact free from social barriers and restrictions that we experience in the real world which are mainly due to gender stereotyping and resulting behaviour. With no visual clues, we can in theory, interact with our online friends without being a woman and the inequalities and discrimination that we often face. However, in practice is this true? Many women have reported that they experience intimidation and harassment online simply for exuding or having a female persona. Other women report that the internet has empowered them as a woman, building their confidence as their opinions are takan on their merit rather than judged by their gender. Exploring this area of gender dynamics offers an insight into whether gender is a biological or social concept.
This is what Gemma told me: To date, I have been accused of
spamming, undertaking research 'that's not really life or death' and being a male basher the minute I enter into mixed forums. Can blog sisters help me?
C'mon. I know that many of you have experience-based opinions internet-related gender issues. Share them with Genna and get them included in an official study.
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Politics: Ben & Jerry's rocks the vote
I signed up with Rock the Vote today. I did so by going to the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream site and signing a pledge to vote on November 2. I also agreed to contact at least five friends by email and encourage them to rock the the vote. But, hey! I have a blog, so why not let more people in on a good thing? If I were not already a registered voter, I would have gone to www.rockthevote.com and signed up.
Consideration? (You know how lawyers are, eh?) In return for joining Rock the Vote, I am getting a free download from the iTunes Music Store. I am competing in a contest to win a trip to Vermont to be a Ben & Jerry's Flavor Guru for a day, plus a new iMac and iPod from Apple, too.
The form is short and Ben & Jerry's will not sell your identifying information to marketers. So, there is no reason not to join. Go ahead. Rock it.
Note: This entry also appeared at Mac-a-ro-nies.
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