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« July 2006 | Main | September 2006 »
Is this thing on?
August 31, 2006
Today, for the first time in a long time, I was able to drive around with the windows rolled up in my car (no A/C) without sweating profusely. Previously, with the windows down and sitting still, I would have arm sweat. ARM SWEAT! What is up with that?
At any rate, I just came home from a nice walk, and while I am sweating a bit, I am not uncomfortably drenched. It was a nice walk. It is nice to know that summer is almost behind us. I fucking hate summer. I am sorry. I do.
Even the boys are noticing. They are wanting morning and evening walks to resume where we left off with them several months ago. Soon, we will spend a lot of our time outside instead of lolling about the house. Perhaps it will save me from the carpal tunnel syndrome I am developing due to day-long chat sessions with random individuals. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but mama needs her fix of less-harsh sunrays. I am actually pasty from summertime cabin fever. Or I would be if the sun didn't instantly fry my ass the minute I set foot out of the house.
It is almost time for flying kites in the school yard again. Perhaps some dodge ball, if I can find some willing children to play along. Maybe this year we will play basketball or tennis. I am feeling the urge to move around outdoors and be active. A fall garden, perhaps. I need to see if my black tarp fried out a nice patch of grass into a good little garden plot for me. I can plant lettuce and maybe a pumpkin or two.
Ah. Autumn is near. Maybe my brain will also reconstitute itself so I can return to blogging in complete and interesting sentences. Who knows? Maybe I will even be able to write about political things again without resorting to random pounding at the keyboard in absolute frustration.
I guess we will just have to wait and see. Today made anything seem possible.
Ladies and Gentlemen...
August 23, 2006
The Wiggles Guitar is back.
There needs to be some sort of hitman for annoying toys.
I swear.
Friends.
August 23, 2006
You know, there are some people in my life who make me happy just through the mere knowledge that they are alive. My friend John is one of those people. We have been friends for, gah, 20 years now. I have written about him before, I am sure. He is just an amazing person, an amazingly gifted photographer, and someone who has managed to nurture and keep alive the essential soul that I grew to love when we were teenagers into adulthood.
I am so so so fucking lucky to have the friends I have. John is one of my very most favorites. I love you, Johnny John John. Looking at your photos today made me feel so incredibly full of love with life. Thank you.
(for)giving 'til it hurts
August 22, 2006
I had another one of THOSE conversations with my mom the other day. The one where I am telling her about all of the mishaps I have managed to get myself into and all of their joyful resolutions. I was telling her about a friend of mine and I who were in the midst of a falling out, and I was saying that I felt compelled to forgive this person. That forgiving makes me feel good, and NOT forgiving makes me miserable. And that I have to believe that the right thing to do is the thing that makes me feel good.
Of course, this led her to request...insistently...that I forgive my sister. Or make amends. Or whatever in her mind needs to happen between me and my sister so she can feel at peace with her role as a mother.
*sigh*
"Mom" I said "Did I not just say that I tend to err on the side of forgiveness more than anything else? What about what I just said would lead you to believe that I am not in touch with myself enough to know when to forgive and when to NOT forgive."
"How would you feel" she retorted "If your boys got into a fight and couldn't forgive each other."
"That is not fair, mom. I have no idea how I would feel. All I know is how I feel about this situation now. I can't forgive someone no matter how much someone else wants me to. I am sorry."
She was disappointed, but resigned. I was...a little pissed. It's hard enough for me to hold my ground with people. To not allow myself to be stepped on and mistreated. To stand up for myself. She has witnessed that many, many times. And I have given my sister plenty of chances in our lifetimes. I finally quit. Damnit. I quit. Quitting is so freaking hard for me...but I quit trying with my sister. Just like I quit trying with my father. And I am at peace with that decision. And if there is a time when I feel not at peace with that decision, I will know it is time to forgive.
I mention this now because Monk and I had a big blowout tonight. It was about some homework thingy that I assigned to him yesterday that he has been flopping around complaining about for 2 days and adding that tiny extra bit of stress to my life that I just don't freaking need right now. I tried to punish him by sending him to bed, but he just sits up and reads. How do you force a child to go to sleep? And anyway, I yanked the boombox out of his room so he could no longer listen to his book on tape (which is 1066: The year of a conquest. The child listens to freaking HISTORY tapes for freaking ENTERTAINMENT. I mean, how dumb is it to punish him for not doing his homework by forcing him to NOT listen to a heavy history lesson? Gah! Being a parent forces me to do the dumbest fucking things sometimes, I SWEAR!) and then I sat in my room staring at the computer screen feeling miserable that my little man and I were fighting with each other. He is SUCH a great kid. And he is trying so hard to be sweet and cooperative and helpful. He's a stubborn ass sometimes, just like his wonderful mama...and it drives me crazy, but he's not torturing small animals or anything.
So, I went with my instinct. 80% of the parenting books in the world tell you that you need to make a punishment stick. I say, fuck that. I say, listen to your instinct. If forgiving makes you feel better, then forgive! Forgive! Forgive!
I went into his room and pulled the book from his hands and turned it upside down on the bed. I held his precious little face in my hands and I said "Are you sorry?"
Tears were brimming in his eyes. "Yes."
That's all I needed to hear, but of course I am still a mom, so I went into overexplaining/overasking of questions mode. And he responded affirmatively to all of my mommy questions until I finally said "are you really saying yes, or are you just trying to shut me up?"
He laughed.
I laughed.
All is forgiven. I love that child. Fuck 80% of the parenting books. I will be able to sleep tonight, and so will he. And I'm pretty sure he will turn out OK.
Meme, adult style
August 22, 2006
via Goddess Musings
The "Older People" Survey (Meant to be completed by those ADULTS out of high school)
Tired of all of those surveys made up by high school kids?
'Have you ever kissed someone?'
'Missed someone?'
'Told someone you loved them?'
'Drank alcohol?'
Here are some questions for the people who are a little ... Okay,
okay... OLD FOLKS like us......
1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Mortgage. Fucking fuckwads.
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
My house.
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Never (I thought this was the adult meme)
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Um. I have never been that drunk.
5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Damnit! I can't remember! Oh, yeah...Mrs. Foote.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
I can't think of anything I would rather be doing right now. And I do not even think that is pitiful.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
A veterinarian, a world traveler, a writer.
8. How many colleges did you attend?
Zero. Well, community college. Does that even count? Also, the school of life.
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
It doesn't have sleeves.
10. GAS PRICES! First thought?
Panic. And I wish my life allowed for more use of public transportation.
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you...
Chicago.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
I don't need no steenking alarm.
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
I was thinking about work. Something I needed to do...and I thought about getting out of bed and jotting it down, but then I thought "Nah...I'll remember in the morning." And now I can't remember.
14. Favorite style of underwear?
Boy shorts.
15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite/same sex?
Boxer Briefs.
16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Paying bills.
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?
Nah. I might volunteer doing advocacy work for children, though.
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Depends on my mood. I can go either way.
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
It's not really a CARTOON, but that penguin character in The Wrong Trousers cracks me right up.
20. Favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Listening to music
21. A secret that you wouldn't mind everyone knowing?
Um. Heh. I can't think of a one.
WHAT HAPPENED TO 22 and 23?
You couldn't think of enough questions? (Educand's comment...too perfect to delete.)
24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Well, I really like southern fried tofu from Wheatsville
25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
I have never been in Costco
26. Beach or lake?
yes, please!
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
It is an outdated ritual, but sadly still somewhat necessary. More as a means of tactical/logistical support than anything having to do with love or romance. Blah.
28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?
Anyone I once knew.
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
mindlessly clicking around on the internet, and having endless chat conversations
30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
Um. I'm not proud. I love biker flicks.
31. What's your drink?
Pomegranate Italian Soda.
32. Cowboys or Indians?
Um, racist question! (stolen from Roni!)
33. Cops or Robbers?
Robin Hood (also stolen from Roni!)
34. Do you cheer for the bad guy?
If he's cute. Sure.
35. What Hollywood star do you think resembles you best?
hahahaha. hm. I wish I knew enough about Hollywood stars to say something clever and witty here. But, no.
36. If you had to pick one, which cast member of "Lost" would you be?
I have no clue. What is this "Lost" you speak of?
37. What do you want when you are sick?
My bed. With fresh sheets. And lavender. And for someone to whisk the chidren away.
38. Who from high school would you like to run into?
Jenny Almblad, Tom Prather
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
NPR (KUT)
42. Norm or Cliff?
Woody.
43. The Cosby Show or the Simpsons?
Simpsons
44. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
Hm. Getting involved with the asshole in the first place?
45. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?
Nobody sits directly across from me at work.
46. If you could get away with it, who would you kill?
I can't even imagine someone I would kill...whether I would get away with it or not.
47. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Nick Cave
48. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
Er. Nick Cave? All of the members of The Dirty Three?
49. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No.
50. Last book you read for real?
Currently reading _Soledad Brother_
51. Do you have a teddy bear?
Just my kiddos.
52. Strangest place you have ever brushed your teeth?
I got nothing.
53. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
To see the Sequioas.
54. Number of texts in a day?
On average? None.
55. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Relationship...but they are both pretty low on my list of priorities. I'm fairly happy with things as they are.
56. Do you go to church?
I would like to go back to the UU church, but my demon child bursts into flames when we enter the doors. hahahaha
57. Pencil or pen?
Pen. Well, it depends. If I am writing on a hard surface, I prefer pencil. Otherwise, pen. Sharpie marker!
58. bueller??? bueller??? bueller?
whatever
59. How many jobs have you had?
Lemme think...Market research, Kinko's, telemarketing, another copy place, Kinko's again (various positions held) my current job, some freelance design work, some freelance training work, some freelance curriculum design work. Let's call it 5-6 jobs.
60. What do you want to achieve in life?
Inner peace radiating outwards. Or, to quote cheesy punk rock lyrics from the 80's "Strive to survive causing the least suffering possible."
Kindness.
August 21, 2006
Last night on my walk, I managed to lose my phone. It must have fallen out of my pocket. I went back through my walking route in my car after I got home, and again first thing in the morning, but didn't see it anywhere.
I spent the morning and afternoon calling my cell phone from my home phone, hoping someone would answer it. Of course, I had left it on silent after returning home from my movie...
This afternoon, some guy called me to let me know he had my phone. I met up with him and reclaimed it and everything is kosher.
Yay. Problem solved. Thank you, kind stranger!!
Now, if only the other huge looming problem in my life could be dispatched as easily!
Snappy answers to stupid questions...
August 20, 2006
Redneck Mother posted about awkward conversations that can arise from the seemingly universal question of "and what grade are YOU in."
My initial response when people question why we homeschool is "Because I'm an anarchist" - which usually shuts people up. No one wants to know more about being an anarchist. If they were to ask what being an anarchist means to me (which no one ever has. hahahah) I would probably say something sassy like "It means whatever you want it to mean."
But I just thought of another smart ass remark to the "why aren't your kids in school" question. I could say something like "Because if I sent them to school, I could no longer threaten to send them to school when they piss me off."
I mean, seriously...if I sent my kids to school, I might have to start going to church just so I could threaten them with the prospect of eternal damnation!
It's totally a slippery slope, man!
more on non-monogamy
August 19, 2006
Slipping the Ties That Bind: Varietism and Compulsory Monogamy
Varietism takes many forms; I will only describe one of them here. But what all forms have in common is a rejection of monogamy as ideology and as institution. The ideology of monogamy is based on what I call the soap opera paradigm (you might also call it the Hollywood paradigm or the Disney paradigm): the notion that somewhere out there your perfect complement awaits, the person who will fulfill all your desires, and if you can just find each other you'll live happily ever after. I think that's a fairy tale which ends up cheating a lot of people out of a meaningful and successful love life. Challenging such romantic illusions can open up real erotic and emotional possibilities instead of holding us hostage to an impractical myth.The soap opera paradigm is based on two equally implausible and contradictory ideas: That of generalized emotional-erotic scarcity (there's not enough love or lust to go around, so I'd better grab what I can get and hold on to it); and that of complete one-to-one compatibility (one person can satisfy all of my needs and longings, and I'll be able to do the same for him or her, forever).
I propose a more realistic scenario: Sexual desire and emotional satisfaction are dynamic and constantly changing aspects of our lives, and attraction doesn't usually sort itself automatically into neat categories. The prospect that one person will bring universal fulfillment is as unlikely as the prospect that I'll never find any fulfillment at all if I don't ensure that my relationship with him or her is an exclusive one.
Thus varietism seeks to replace an ethos of romantic competition with one of cooperation. Affection and pleasure aren't rare commodities to be carefully guarded; indeed they often multiply when shared. Rejecting the ideology of monogamy does not require giving up on deep and lasting emotional bonds, but simply freeing those powerful connections from an inadequate and inappropriate structure. In the words of lesbian activist Ellen Herman, "This does not mean that love and intimacy would disappear, just that the role of sexuality would be less distorted and scaled to a more realistic size, making chances for sexual and emotional satisfaction much greater."
As misleading as the ideology of monogamy is, it is monogamy as institution that is truly damaging. In fact, the discrepancy between the ideology and the institution is striking: for many people, men in particular, "monogamy" means demanding fidelity from one's partner while violating it oneself when the opportunity arises. This is not surprising given the historical origins of monogamy and the social context within which it operates. Private property and economic acquisitiveness, after all, accord well with a model of romantic possessiveness. And it is difficult to disentangle the institution of monogamy from the sexism, homophobia, and general fear of sexual nonconformity which mark our culture. From this perspective, we might view patriarchy, heterosexism, and compulsory monogamy as one interlocking structure, where each component reinforces the others, to the detriment of us all.
I've kind of been on a frenzy...
August 19, 2006
So I am almost ashamed to respond toThis Meme:
List your last five purchases. Mine:
- I bought Husker Du's Zen Arcade and The Smiths' Meat is Murder from (gulp) Best Buy. I had to! I had to buy those two cds, and I couldn't find them used and Best Buy had the Best Price by far!
- I got some pizza from Aljohn's on my way home from work
- I bought The Smiths' Louder Than Bombs at Encore on my way to work (I told you I have been on a frenzy! Why didn't you believe me?)
- I bought The Smiths' Rank & Best Vol. 1, and The Pixies' Surfer Rosa from Cheapo Disks
- I took the kids out bowling at Dart Bowl. Does that count as a purchase?
Thanks, Mr. Rowland, for exposing me as the shameless consumer that I am. I actually haven't bought so much STUFF in one weekend in a long time.
Um, I am going to tag...who? Who wants to play?
youtubin' - dirty three and mission of burma edition (w/bonus camper van!)
August 19, 2006
The Dirty Three, I think, have become my favorite band of all time. This live performance of theirs makes my heart all full with loving life:
And...does this mean there's a mission of burma movie coming out? fuck! So much good music, so little time...
Oh, life is fucking grand!
Oh, and just because I'm thinking about the fiddle...
Heaven Knows I'm (not) Miserable Now
August 18, 2006
It is almost a pity. I can't seem to work up a long-lasting depression anymore. No matter what the circumstance, I just seem to bounce back. Like a flea. Or an over-inflated volleyball. Or something else that is bouncy backy. Clearly my inability to be depressed has interfered with my ability to write with any sort of metaphoric zeal.
So, in honor of my midlife uncrisis, I am going to take myself out this evening and indulge in some shopping reverse therapy by buying a bunch of Smiths CDs. Maybe if I confine myself to a darkened room for the weekend and let Morrissey's dulcet tones lull me into a stupor, I will be better able to muster some angst and sadness out of what proved to be an angstful and sad (but evidently not scarringly so) week. Or not. Maybe I will just sit and listen and reflect on the times in my life when I WAS depressed, and marvel at the fact that I just am not anymore. And thank Maude for Morrissey. And maybe even sing along.
HEAVEN KNOWS I'M MISERABLE NOW
The Smiths
I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
But heaven knows I'm miserable now
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
And heaven knows I'm miserable now
In my life
Why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die ?
Two lovers entwined pass me by
And heaven knows I'm miserable now
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
And heaven knows I'm miserable now
In my life
Oh, why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die ?
What she asked of me at the end of the day
Caligula would have blushed
"You've been in the house too long" she said
And I (naturally) fled
In my life
Why do I smile
At people who I'd much rather kick in the eye ?
I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
But heaven knows I'm miserable now
"You've been in the house too long" she said
And I (naturally) fled
In my life
Why do I give valuable time
To people who don't care if I live or die?
suicide
August 17, 2006
I am still not feeling quite right about life right now. The heartache is pretty much gone, having been put into perspective. However, the idea that as I slept some random person put a bullet through his head within 100 yards of me is reopening old wounds in a very painful and disturbing way. I couldn't go on my walk last night for fear that maybe they didn't manage to clean everything up. I can just imagine my dog sniffing out an entrail or something. Some relic of a life not worth living.
We are coming up on the anniversary of Aaron Hawkin's death, and between that and the events of yesterday, as well as other people in my life who have been questioning whether it is worth it to go on...I am feeling the burn. I know I am not responsible or even capable of keeping people alive or in love with life, but it feels like I am surrounded by death. I am craving something easy and mindless and joyous. I am needing celebration. Perhaps it is summer, pressing inward with its stifling heat. They say that winter is the season of death, but in Austin it is summer. I feel stifled. Full to bursting. I want to unleash. I want to let go. I want to be everything all at once with someone who can give me everything all at once back. I am tired of thinking about death. I am tired of worrying about people. Mostly, I am just plain tired of being a counterweight. I want to tip the fucking scales! I want to move mountains! I want to be mighty and alive! Alive! Alive!
So, yeah. That's where I am right now. Trapped underneath the ghostly shells of blown-apart bodies and trying desperately to claw my way out.
One more Coleyism for the road
August 16, 2006
"I wonder why I was born in the form of this body?" -Cole Sequioa Lark, Age 5.
Why do I even worry?
August 16, 2006
Due to aforementioned heartache, I have spent the majority of the day bursting into tears at random intervals. Actually, I have spent much of the past three weeks doing the same and finding any number of things to blame other than the situation which was actually responsible...the situation which I have been suddenly and painfully (but perhaps, thankfully) forced to extricate myself from. And then today, with multiple unrelated events crashing down upon my already unstable little world...It has been a rough month for me, but I am slowly finding clarity and figuring out what lessons to learn. And what to leave behind and what to keep.
In the meantime, I am hurting like fuck. Crying a lot. And trying to deal with parenting through tears.
As always, my children amaze me. Monk, especially. It seems like he is compelled to be his best when I am at my worst. Of course, I feel terribly guilty that they have to witness me in this kind of pain. I want them to think of life and love as joyous events that do not cause suffering. Ever. But, whatever. How freaking unrealistic is that?
So I am trying to explain the best way I know how, and the simplest. "Someone I care about a great deal has hurt me a great deal. Which sometimes happens. And I have to decide whether I want to keep that person in my life and keep myself open to possibly being hurt some more, or lose that person and miss out on all of the wonderful things about this person just so I won't have to hurt anymore."
Because sometimes hurt is part of caring. I don't care what anyone else says. I am willing to accept that loving some people presents painful challenges. And I am often up for those challenges, but not when I am hurt more than I am loved. Unfortunately, it is up to me to decide that, and I am in no position to be making decisions about such things right now. hahaha.
At any rate, the children are so sweet in their ways as I navigate this. It can be difficult to be in such close proximity with other people while I am trying to work through a significant amount of pain. And the pain does not only spring from current events in my life, but also from all of the residual pain from the past that the present is triggering. Not the least of which is the pain of watching my mother endure pain, and witnessing her depression and sadness, and feeling absolutely helpless in the face of it. So it can be difficult for me to receive consolation from my boys, even though I kind of need it.
Today, flopped on my bed, Monk put his arm around me and told me for the nine zillionth time that I am a great mom. He told me he understood I am having a hard time, and that I shouldn't worry about him feeling sad because of it. He understands what I am going through. How on earth he understands, I do not know...but I will have to take his word for it.
Getting ready to go, I asked Monk "Do I look just awful? Like I have been crying all day?" The child guffawed and looked askance, knowing way better than to answer. I laughed. I was like "You know, Monk, wow. You sure can recognize a loaded question when you hear one."
In the car on the way to pick up his brother, he said it again. "You are a great mom, mom." I replied "I don't feel like such a great mom" as I burst into tears again. "Mom, right now it doesn't matter how YOU feel. Right now it is important that you know how *I* feel."
This, of course, only served to make me cry harder.
Later, holding his hand, I asked him "How on earth did you get so wise, son?"
"You really don't know the answer to that question, mom?"
"No. I honestly don't."
And the child who beat me at Mancala twice today - and has beat me at chess in less than 4 moves - told me "I got it from you."
My sweet boys.
In the car on the way home, Coley in his offhandedly metaphoric fashion, started thanking his entire immune system.
"Thank you white blood cells, and thank you red blood cells, and thank you..."
"Coley, what are you doing?" I ask.
"I am thanking my body, because it always knows just what to do to heal."
Again with the tears. Pouring down my cheeks. What did I do to deserve such wonderful boys?
"I sure hope to hell I deserve you guys." I cried.
"Oh, mom. You do. You deserve us and more." said my wise son.
"yeah" said my sillysweet poet son.
And, you know what? I guess I do.
I may not have ever had a decent model of what to expect from a man in my life, so I might as well start paying attention to the boys I have raised, and looking for the same amount of kindness, stark love, and empathy in the men I fall in love with that I have miraculously managed to instill in the boys I birthed.
Weird Night.
August 16, 2006
Some water pipe busted yesterday on my street around 7ish, and we didn't have water all night. We were worried that we'd be out for days, judging from the antics of the people doing the repairs. I sent the kids to bed early because they were starting to formulate doomsday plots in their heads about dying of thirst.
So I go and check my email, and receive some jarring news from someone that keeps me awake, distraught, hurting like hell and upset most of the night. By 3 in the morning, I was about to say "fuckitall" and take myself out for my usual walk, but I gave myself another chance to fall asleep. I told myself if I wasn't asleep by 3:30, I would just take a walk, and the rest of the day be damned.
Thankfully, I fell asleep.
I say thankfully because early this morning, my housemate called me on her way out to her car. There is a dead body in the park across the street. Knowing that I sometimes take late-night walks (or used to...I'm not so sure I'll be able to muster the courage anymore) she was checking to make sure it wasn't me.
Now, whether that dead body COULD HAVE been me...or whether I might have stumbled upon it on my late night cavorting...either way - fucking creepy, man.
I guess that should put my heartbreak in perspective. Unfortunately, it does not. I am still broken to pieces, on the verge of tears, weeping like a freaking willow...all that. Now I'm just doing that with the idea that I can't even fucking take a midnight walk to settle my nerves without having to worry about getting shanked.
And, of course, I'm not finding anything on the local news. Just like there was not a word of the water issue on the local news last night. So, it's doubtful if I will find out if someone was murdered in the park, or if someone just collapsed in the park, or whatever the fuck else might have happened.
Cuba and Organic Farming
August 14, 2006
I think this article is really interesting:
With the collapse of the Soviet Union, such subsidies halted almost overnight. Suddenly, the future looked bleak.Nowhere was the effect felt more strongly than in the stomachs of the ordinary people. Figures produced by the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization suggest that the daily calorie intake of the average Cuban fell from about 2,600 calories a day in the late 1980s to between 1,000 and 1,500 by 1993. Essentially, people had to get by on about half the food they had been eating.
With no subsidies and limited resources, the Cuban regime took the decision to look inward. Ceasing to organize its economy around the export of tropical products and the import of food, it decided to maximize food production. By necessity, this meant a back-to-basics approach; with no Soviet oil for tractors or fertilizer it turned to oxen, with no Soviet oil for its fertilizer and pesticide, it turned to natural compost and the production of natural pesticides and beneficial insects.
It is estimated that more than 200 locally based centers specializing in biopesticides annually produce 200 tons of verticillium to control whitefly, and 800 tons of beaveria sprays to control beetles.
And while the author has a point about cheap labor, I wonder (from my standpoint, which involves a great deal of privilege) if perhaps there is an overarching value to being connected to food sources as closely as those who farm the land in Cuba. Especially when working within the intellectual parameters of sustainability. It seems like farm labor there is not only backbreaking, but mind-bending.
A friend of mine once told me about his experience on an organic farm that working on the land was the hardest, yet most rewarding work he had ever done. That while the work was brutally difficult, you actually got to SEE the results...and that was very nourishing to his spirit.
I wonder what the organic farmers in Cuba would have to say about that.
That is what they ALWAYS say
August 14, 2006
...right before they do what they deny planning to do in the first place:
National security advisor Stephen J. Hadley said in an e-mailed response: "The suggestion that the U.S. and Israel planned and coordinated an attack on Hezbollah — and did so as a prelude to an attack on Iran — is just flat wrong."Bush dismissed the report as "patently untrue," the White House response said.
I am keeping my eye on this thread.
Best News Headline Ever.
August 13, 2006
ABC News: Israel Approves Truce, Continues Barrage
It really couldn't do more to explain the absolute ridiculousness of everything in the entire fucking world.
The McLaughlin Group.
August 13, 2006
Every week I tune into the McLaughlin Group discussion, and almost every week, Pat Buchanan surprises me by saying something reasonable.
This week, the discussion was about Bush's use of the term Islamofascism to describe the foiled UK bombings. Buchanan piped up and stated that the use of that term, and the lumping of Syria, Hezbollah, and Al Qaeda all together under that term is responsible for our inability to form any sort of worthwhile intelligence in dealing with these very different, nuanced groups. I almost choked. WTF?
Even more wonderful about this show, however, is Eleanor Clift and her consistent persistence in opposing the war in Iraq. She kicks so much ass. I love you, Eleanor!!!
(by the way, Lieberman is a total boob. And not in a good way.)
Coca-Cola, Decades of Evil
August 12, 2006
Arrogance and Impunity - Coca-Cola in India
The pesticides in soft drinks in India is a classic case of double standards, one for Americans and Europeans, and another for Indians. Coca-Cola products made in India could never be sold in the European Union markets or the United States. On at least 10 occasions since January 2005, the US Food and Drug Administration has rejected the shipment of Coca-Cola products made in India coming into the US, on the grounds that they do not conform to US laws and that they are unsafe for the US public.
It is discouraging that punk rock lyrics from the early '80's are still totally relevant today. Especially when they pertain to freaking SUGAR WATER.
I mean, seriously, if we can let SUGAR WATER manufacturers get away with oppressing people for decades, is it any wonder we still support war and famine and destruction and ignorance of the potential for environmental catastrophe?
There couldn't be a better metaphor for the fucked-uppedness of capitalism than the consistent presence of Coca-Cola in these kinds of situations.
(excerpts from Chumbawamba's _Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records_ LP)
Coca-Colanisation
So I think, I mean, it's a nice sound
It's a happy sound, and it's not doing anybody any harm
...And In A Nutshell
And the company director spins the globe
Looks into on atlas of the world
A supermarket lifestyle for as all
A thousand nations under company control
Coca-Cola got machines in every land
No-one got the teeth to bite the hand
Stole their labor, their culture, and their lives
To create a Coca-Cola paradise
Swallowing their soft drinks and their lies
Let's take the blindfold from our eyes
Invasion
The first world's got greedy, we're consuming it all
The third world's got hunger, and military control
This unequal balance is a master plan
One gets rich from the other's land
They've got it all worked out, and we give our consent
They've got it all worked out, and we give our consent
They've got it all worked out for Central America
And they've got it all worked out for Africa
And in our naivete we believe myths and over consume
And give them our consent
Dying in the shadow of the USA
Let them eat bullshit, make the land pay
Make a fast deal with the local elite
Then substitute cash crops where once grew wheat
Build a cycle of dependence on a starvation diet
With food as a weapon, workers stay quiet
And multinational names have blood on their brands
From taking an interest in misused lands
Del Monte, Tate and Lyle, Ralston, Purina
Coca-Cola, RTZ, and Unilever
All packaging lifestyles for the glamorous West
Expand the company, exploit the rest
We are not isolated by distance
But by greed and our racist history
Just a wall's width away
Still impossible to reach across
This space in front of me
It's we who write this history
We who guard the money-tree
We support the companies
We stole the colonies
And when the system starts to crack
We'll have to be ready to give it all back
And when the system starts to crack
We'll have to be ready to give it all back
See the space which lies between the rich and the poor
How the space increases as we keep on taking more
Keeping that space between as all
Is how the west can keep control
With a mission and a checkbook promising aid
Posing for the camera the United Nations man came
Ha talked of control and the terrible drought
And the way that the west would bail them out
Then he stopped smiling and talked conditions
Of mutual aid, and American wishes
Sending in aid with sewn-on strings
If they won't buy arms then it's pulled back in
Feeding the world American style
Colonel Sanders has an empire behind his smile
Back up the investments with a military regime
Then cleverly says it's to keep the world free
But the multinational myths are beginning to fall
The poor don't want aid, they want control
And if we really want to see the third world eat
We've got to see through the wrapping on the high street
Past the barriers of culture that dictate our lives
We're busy consuming as the other half dies
And the answer's not a question of charity
Not whilst profit's still the top priority
So let the glossy shop-fronts know what to expect
And you bosses of Companies...
And the cycle of hungry children
Will keep on going 'round
Will keep on going 'round
Until we burn the multinationals to the ground
The Metaphorical Coffee Cup
August 10, 2006
Coley needed a cup for his soymilk, and he was in one of his "I want a SPECIFIC, but as yet unnamed cup" moods.
So, I pointed at a couple of cups and received negative feedback from his majesty. And then:
Me: How about this cup with your papa's name on it.
Coley: YEAH! OK!
...pause to pour soymilk...
Coley: Is papa famous? Is that why his name is on this cup?
Me: Not really. I just brought the cup home for him once when I was in Las Vegas, as a memento. And then the handle broke.
Coley: And then you got divorced. And you got the cup in the divorce.
Me: I guess so, yeah.
Coley: So, the handle is kind of like you, then...it got divorced from the coffee cup.
Me: hahaha. I suppose that is true, Coley dear. Yes.
Lunchtime Math
August 10, 2006
I am really impressed with the level of math cognition Coley has been demonstrating lately. I know his brother always amazed me, but somehow I feel like we have been selling Coley short in the brains department. Not that we weren't aware that he had a certain amount of intellect, but I have always found him to be more verbally/physically expressive than logically.
However, today, he blew me away.
Cole: What's 4500 plus 4500 (This is a game we like to play)
Me: 9000
Monk: No! It's nine HUNDRED (Monk has been kind of a misdirected know-it-all lately)
Me: No...It is 9000. 450+450 is 900; 45+45 is 90; 4.5+4.5 is 9...etc.
Cole: Yeah, Monk! (sibling rivalry) Besides, 4500 plus 4500 CAN'T be 900!
Me: Why? (Hoping and praying that he is about to say what I think he is about to say)
Cole: Because 4500 is MORE than 900.
I think this is HUGE concept for a five year old to grasp, and I'm very pleased that he gets it. So, we went on to discuss sums of different numbers, increasing them by tens and hundreds and noting the relationships. And then Coley holds up a tiny bite of pizza next to a big slice of pizza and says:
Cole: What is this plus that, mom?
Me: Well, they aren't like terms, so you can't really add them together like that.
Cole: Yeah...it's just tiny piece and big slice
Me: Right. Like, you can't add a dog and a cat. If you have a cat plus a cat, you have two cats...but if you have a dog and a cat, you have one dog and one cat...or maybe two pets.
Cole: Yeah!
Me: Or, like, a car plus a tree is...?
Monk: Not a good combination.
Hahahaha.
Yeah. This is the kind of stuff I need to be paying attention to. It fills me up. Ah.
Take the Children Bowling. Take them Bowling.
August 5, 2006
I have decided that I am going to do a P.E. unit with my children on BOWLING. What fun! We went bowling yesterday for the first time in a long time and, well, basically...I SUCK, but I have a wonderfully good time sucking, and the kids seem to enjoy it, too. Even Monk, with his "I can't be happy unless I am winning even though I am not at all interested in learning HOW to actually bowl with any sort of technique and basically I just roll the ball all willy nilly down the lane without really thinking about it" attitude. hahahaha. He was getting all raw and emotiony about everything and I finally had to throw up my hands and say "Listen, dude. I don't know what I can say to actually help you through this...so you just let me know if there's anything I can do. In the meantime, I am just buttoning my lip and enjoying me some fun bowling."
Then there's Coley who bowled one game and got "tired."
And P, our guest bowler, who is a 5-year old jock extraordinaire. He beat me the first game! Of course, he had bumpers and I didn't...but in the words of my smartass sidekick "your superior adult skills should beat out bumpers"...so I beat him in the second game, but BARELY. and, really...the bumpers only came into play for him every once in awhile. That kid can throw a freaking bowling ball! He just gets up there on that line and gives it a good send off and the pins just all seem to bow down to his awesomeness. hahahaha. I admit to feeling pangs of regretful jealousy over his talent. And I think I mistakenly said "Well, it is clear that our family just lacks the jock gene." which only served to piss Monk off more.
So, yeah. In the interest of teaching the children a lesson in "practice makes perfect" or, at least "practice makes one a lot less sucky" I am instituting a weekly or maybe bi-weekly bowling tournament. We will track our scores. Maybe make charts to see if we are improving. We will read books about bowling technique. Talk about the science of bowling. Figure out how in fuck to score a game (we rely so much on that silly computer to do all of that for us). Practice. Practice. Practice. And measure where we are at the beginning vs. where we end up.
I think it's going to be a fun time....if I can endure Monk's pissiness. hahaha.
A Chat with a friend...
August 1, 2006
I want to talk a bit later about love anarchy, and breaking free of the societal bullshit that surrounds love relationships. Or attempting to. Or at least figuring out whether or not it's possible. But right now, all I have time to do is post this precursor to that upcoming post in the form of a snippet of a chat I had today with a dear, sweet friend:
me: I just want to love people without limitation and expectation.
friend: imagine!
me: beyond, you know, being civil and honest.
friend: oh, I remember now. you're a radical.
;)
me: I know!
friend: you're like a love-ist.
me: I am!
friend: there's got to be a better term for it.
me: gah.
anarchist.
love anarchy.
friend: yeah!
We went on to discuss more about the difficulty inherent in restructuring our ideas and ideals about love. And determining our true nature vs. bullshit programming:
me: I want to unlearn all of this jealousy and possessiveness.
It makes no sense right now, because I really don't want to be possessed.
Truly.
friend: yeah
me: Even if I am only dating one guy.
friend: it's such a complicated area
me: Yeah.
friend: I have some similar feelings[...]I don't know if it's "who I really am" or just really pervasive programming or both.
but it seems to be the way I am now and I don't know if it's changeable
or worth the effort it would take to change
me: yeah.
oh, yeah.
I mean, that is why it is so hard.
Because I frequently just think "Why struggle? Why not just give in?"
And then everyone is telling me that I am "worth" having someone who adores me.
Why is my worth all wrapped up in snagging one man?
and making him adore me?
Why can't everyone adore everyone?
but I mean...it's complicated.
Because...meh. What happens when I decide settling down with one person is what I want?
That is a decision that is forseeable, too.
I don't know. I just want to try things out.
And see where they take me.
friend: well, I hear you.
me: I want something different from what I have had.
****
So, yeah. I want to come back to this. My brain is too addled right now to form a complete thought & I am not even really sure where this is taking me...but it is a consistent theme in my life. It has been since my marriage started dissolving and I really started questioning the pressure I was feeling to "pair bond" vs. my normal way of just being in love with everyone. It seems like I used to be able to solve that issue by not having sex with anyone, because sex is what makes it all messy for me. But I don't want to live the rest of my life without sex. So, where does that leave me? I am not sure. I guess I will find out.