Necessary and Sufficient

I'm busy finishing the semester, so once again, I wish to float by on the talent of others...

Rrrraarr. Check back for the regularly scheduled deprogramming after your inevitable commercialization.


Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together: Hallelujah

The Red Hot Chili Peppers cover Looking Glass's Brandy

Jeff Buckley covers Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah


Ah Ain't Never Shoppin' At Wal-Mart No More!

Update: Jes' so you knows, ma diaries is gonna start hangin' out o'er at tha' Cocks an' Bull site, 'cause you know ah likes ma cocks enough ta put up wit' tha bull. But, do' ya'll go tellin' no one 'bout this, 'cause this here's ma privates.

T'day started out a normal day, far as ah could tell. After church we went wit' Fred Ricky to tha Wal-Mart ta get Avery Ron she's Happy Meal an' Huggies an' me mah new 'kini, not ta mention Ray Jean needed some feminine products fer she's woman time. Fred Ricky was 'tendin' ta get he's shotgun shells outta lay-away. He's been drivin' aroun' wit' he's shotgun in he's gunrack on he's pick-up empty fer three months now. It's a good thing Carl Wayne didn't hear tell a tha'.

As soon as we stepped inta tha store, I was regrettin' we didn't go on o'er ta Target this time. Tha' stuck up bitch, Shirlene, was givin' me tha nasty-eye fer wha' happenedt las' year. Ah did useta work there, ya know an' me an' tha manager, Hal, had we's fling an' Shirlene was jealous. She shouldn'ta had his baby iffin' she didn't wanna stay home on Friday nights. Ah knowed she was really jes' bitter tha' Hal picked me to be tha store's representative fer tha' Wal-Mart Playboy contest corporate was runnin'. It ain't mah fault she was fat from she's baby still.

Anyway, e'er since ah been workin' o'er at Hooters, Shirlene's been goin' to Reverend Dean 'hind ma back tellin' him he should preach tha evils a Hooters in he's sermon; ah was jes' 'bout ready ta set that bitch in she's place when ah noticed Avery Ron was lookin' blue on account a she's chokin' on she's Happy Meal toy. Fuck, ah was scaredt and was screamin' fer someone ta call tha police when Hal run up an' did tha' there Heineken maneuver on she's belly an' out squirted she's Scooby Doo car. Ah was so happy ah gave him a big fat kiss an' that Shirlene hadta go takin' it in tha wrong way. Ah wasn't even feelin' like fightin' now after ma scare an' ah was ready ta go try on some 'kinis.

So, we left tha cosmetics area an went o'er ta tha shotgun shells an' 'kini corner a tha store and ah toldt Ray Jean ta take Avery Ron o'er ta play in tha toy aisle whiles me an' Fred Ricky went 'bout tha growed-up business a pickin' out ma 'kini. We sneaked Fred Ricky inta tha lady's dressin' room an' ah went an' pickedt me out some a tha latest styles ah likedt. There was an orange 'kini, which woulda been good 'cause ah could wear it ta work at Hooters too, but Fred Ricky said it clashed wit' ma tan, which ah have a good start on thanks ta tha' new tannin' salon tha' openedt up o'ver on Cedar Street.

Ah showedt Fred Ricky tha other styles ah likedt: one wit' polka dots, a white one tha' had a thong bottom, one wit' little cherries all over it that he kept tryin' ta eat 'em offa me and ma favorite, the one tha' made it look like ma titties was kitty-cat faces. 'Fore ah knew it, Fred Ricky's boner was in ma mouth an we was doin'it right there in tha dressin' room. It kinda reminded me a tha high school times when he was ma track coach an' we useta do it in them dressin' rooms.... After we was done, ah took off tha' kitty cat 'kini an' decided ta go wit' tha white one an' we went an' got tha girls ta come inta tha gun area wit' us. Fer a little while it was all sweet-like, like a family moment or somethin' when Shirlene hadta come up an' spoil it. She jes' hadta come tell me 'bout how she's gonna be tha centerfold Wal-Mart girl a Playboy this year; she e'en started ta show Fred Ricky how she was gonna position she's Wal-Mart smock all sexy-like when up walks Hal.

Now, it ain't fair tha' Hal hates Fred Ricky 'cause he's from Dallas too an' they have they's history, but he do, an he toldt Fred Ricky he was gonna hafta leave he's store and no he couldn't buy he's shells neither. Well, ah was madder than a skunk 'bout ta spray when alls of a sudden Shirlene has tha balls ta touch ma arm. Ah up an' socked she's face an' she got all upset, somethin' about sposin' ta take she's pictures t'day an' 'fore ah knew'd what was happenin', tha cops had me and Fred Ricky in they's handcuffs.

As they was draggin' us to they's car an' Avery Ron were hollerin' somethin' fierce, ah toldt Officer Pete and tha whole world, "Ah ain't never shoppin' at Wal-Mart no more!"


Can I Borrow Your Straight Jacket?

Oh, it's one of those times again, one in which I have no fucking idea what I'm going to write about. I'm going to end my sentences with prepositions if I damn well please and I will give you this strong and true warning. Whatever I am capable of writing right now, will likely be depressing. I am wondering how far up my ass my humor is shoved, and am on a mission to discover said remnant. Undoubtedly, I will gossip about my family inappropriately and once again be thankful that, despite the amount of time I know they know I spend blogging, they sure couldn't give a rat's ass what the hell it is I'm writing. If that sounds bitter, it likely is; I like to think I am highly devalued, but the truth is, I would be quite discontent if they or someone who knows them were they reading this. Seriously. This is mommy's little venting corner, little clarity nook, where she can go be as wrong as she damn well pleases, write blowjob fantasy scenarios about her coworker and complain about not getting laid, even though sex is the furthest thing from her mind. (And, if she ever refers to herself in the third person again, please shoot her.)

I have one more week of classes. There will be a tumultuous amount of work to be done in that time, and I will rue that I took my sympathetic professor up on her offer of an extension on (one of) my 10 page paper revisions next weekend when I am doing that all weekend when everyone else is done, but I cannot even look that far into the future right now. I bombed a test yesterday for which I knew the material, because, as my teacher stated, the test was too ambitious, and I wasted valuable time being a perfectionist on the first, overly detailed problem and then freaked out that I only had ten minutes left to complete the other half of the test.

I find my writing about the amazing amount of work it is to go back to school with kids and a job extraordinarily boring, so lucky you. I'm sure you'd far rather I complain about my husband. It is rule-breaker number one, extremely disloyal of me, I know, but I cannot get to an Al-Anon meeting right now while I am at work, but I can write in this here blog. Have I ever said I am a not drinking or pot-smoking alcoholic, addict. Yes, I know, a thousand times, and that I know I changed the rules in my marriage to become "sober" (and, I use that term very loosely.) I mean, you are reading my blog. I am no woman of virtuous strength. Girth maybe, but not strength. I find no honor in suffering quietly, or really suffering at all, and I fully expect marriage to entail neither of the two. How in the world can I not sympathize with someone who doesn't want to follow suit? I do. It's been six years since I quit, and I am an idiot of highest form to not have accepted the writing on the wall.

For three years, I tried to make it work, to not care that my husband was going to make sure he had THC in his system at all waking hours of the day and plenty of crappy beers in the evening to put himself to sleep. I mean, who doesn't do that, right? And, so I feel like a pot bitch calling the kettle black, but finally decided when things got really bad between us about three years ago to move out. And did. My husband went into rehab, of his own choosing, or so he stated. I got a dinky place around the corner from my ex, so our girls could walk around the corner to either place and went to couple's counseling with my current partner, my husband, the Lumberjack, whatever. Let's call him L, k? The counseling was pretty good, but the really helpful thing was my reading Getting the Love You Want and The Dance of Anger. Both are excellent books and L was willing to read GTLYW and we did the exercises in counseling. It seemed we had a set of tools, a direction and he was sober, for the most part. I will say that the drinking was an acute problem and pot smoking a really slow, insidious distancer, that was quite reasonable when we both partook, but created a huge emotional and communicative imbalance when I was not doing so as well. And, once again, I shall say to any of you who are pot smokers, I sympathize tremendously, but just found myself able (amidst a tumor and cancer tests and the birth of my fourth child, to break out of it (and my smoking cigarettes as well) and did. And, I have not turned back.

This is the greatest thing I have ever done for myself, and it has not been easy and I know it is not for everyone. Fine. So after 6 months of separation, my husband moves into my dinky place and then 2 and a half years ago, we move into the awesome house we rent now, 15 minutes outside of Austin on 5 acres, a green house with solar panels that is very much cheaper than anything we could afford of its size in the city. And, our landlord is awesome, the former drummer of a band he and my husband were in. Hands off, tolerant, and generous. It's my favorite house I have lived in maybe ever. And, my husband has been mostly smoking pot daily for the last year now.

I love him dearly. We are coming up on ten years of being together. I am very sad. But, just as he showed up to the hospital drunk the night I had my only surgery, thankfully with his mother there helping with the kids, I cannot count on him to be emotionally available. This brings us to recently, when last week, I had an awful, awful anxiety attack that never fully went away and then recurred the next morning and then drove me to spend a day in the counseling center at the university after I had was barely able to drive my son to a dental appointment during which I had to explain to the hygienist it might be necessary for me to be in the bathroom, (freaking out, crying, trying to get through the hour on the phone with my school's telephone counseling until I could get there in person). I was a mess. I have been taking advantage of being able to see someone there for counseling this whole last year and have plenty of issues, but have avoided being plugged into one technical disorder... until now, perhaps. That's not even clear. I am doing too much, I don't always take the greatest care of myself, except perhaps my diet, which is fortunate since I had an eating disorder before I picked up the drinking and drugging.

I have had no more than ten anxiety attacks in my life, and three were last week. I had (already scheduled) blood tests recently which ruled out blood sugar or thyroid issues and really did not have things change until last weekend when my 15 year-old daughter decided she wasn't going home to her dad's house Saturday night... for the forth time in the last year and a half. And, then we lost touch of her completely, causing me to be calling the hospitals at 11Am the next day looking for a Jane Doe. The first time this sort of thing occurred, she was 13 and some creep who could drive picked her up from the mall where she was hanging out with a friend; she just disappeared. We were up all night and had the police helping us while we frantically tried to decipher the meanings behind text messages and one call from her that made the police classify her as a runaway despite the fact that she was thirteen and the guy she was with was clearly next to her, and was old enough to be driving and likely had had his own place. Fortunately (grrrr), the creep dropped her off outside the mall at 3 AM and a kind maintenance person let her go inside until we could pick her up. We wanted to file charges against the guy, but the police dropped the case, never telling us how old the guys was.

Last summer, when she was 14, she had a guy (16 years-old) come out and get her in the middle of the night from our house in the country and we just awoke to her being missing. She was grounded for the rest of the summer, which was a miserable nightmare for all of us, believe me, and when she was eventually allowed to do a few things, after about six weeks, meet friends for an hour or so here and there. She kept wanting to hang out with that guy, which we said was ok, if it did not involve him driving. About one week after the last time she asked us to go out with him, he died in a car accident. Another teen was in the passenger seat of the car he was driving. She did not die.

Last semester my daughter attempted suicide and was in a coma for a day and a half. I can't say more about that.

We caught her trying to stay out all night recently. Her dad was able to ascertain where she was, and went and got her, and then there was this weekend. I shouldn't go into any details, but to say that my daughter is not making safe choices for herself. She is depressed, (if not bipolar, as we are wondering on the side with her counselor) and has been in weekly therapy since last October as well as monthly for the two years before that. She has been taking Prozac much of a year now, since suicide threats caused her school counselor (who we asked for help)to insist that we insist as much from doctors. We saw dramatic improvements. She seemed happy for a while, then the effectiveness seemed to level off and twice the dose has been raised slightly and then there have been more improvements and now we are in the same situation again where the effects are seeming to level off, and I don't know what the hell to do.

Her psychiatrist, the only one she can see though the insurance company, doesn't care, and admits that he just administers medicines and it is all up to her counselor how it goes. Thankfully, we are happy with her current therapist. It seems they relate far better than the ones we have tried in years prior, as her "mental illness" is nothing new. And, it is such an unclear area. What are the circumstances that necessitate medicine? For the most part, it was big progress on my part to trust the "professionals" when I felt as though this was out of my abilities to decipher and here I am in a similar situation with myself, who does not so much as drink caffeine, has not taken, but one ibuprofen by my midwife's insistence 13 years ago, and antibiotics for the last time twelve years ago after not taking them for ten years before that. My six year-old son has never taken antibiotics and I did eventually, get my children vaccinated, but not with out delaying and thinking about that significantly to avoid the side effects. I do not like pharmaceutical medicines.

My counselor says that I have been low-level depressed for years. I suffer from PTSD from living in a violent home as a child, have a history of addictive behaviors, and the anxiety attacks. Zoloft is being tossed around, and not enthusiastically, believe me. I am glad of this, as I have been doing some reading and am not all that impressed with people's own assertions after taking anti-depressants. Many seem as though they have done it wrong. They quit right after they started, before they get the benefits, and then there is no exit strategy. "Take them until you hit a dose that works, stay on it for six months and then ease off of it, very slowly" is the best course to take with them I've read. I have also read a lot about people quitting them cold turkey. There are very severe health consequences that can result from that. My ex encountered someone through his work who had lost her short term memory capacities (akin to Drew Barrymore in that 50 First Dates movie). It is not all that attractive, really. I am extremely skeptical, and have so many stressors in my external world, right now that I know the summer should offer me some relief. You know, staying home with four kids while the oldest one complains nearly constantly, slinging the nastiest insults you can imagine, as I patiently, but firmly set boundaries and try to detach from her behavior, having sympathy yet higher expectations. She is so talented, as an artist, as a young musician and with math and science (and, sometimes unhelpfully, she is absolutely, stunningly beautiful) and I am really struggling here. It's not even good for my other kids to be around her behavior much of the time. Thank goodness I can look at them, so bright and happy, it seems, and know that it's not all me.

I don't want to end up a Laura Bush out there in la-la Xanax land, but seriously, this is what's going on with me. I have help, good help. I am joining a group-process group for the summer (I forgot what you call it). I have one more semester of classes in the fall, before I student teach next spring, and only three three more children to move through the ranks of teenager-dome dome dome. Can I borrow your straight jacket? I am about as far from straight as they come and she may spin off into talking about herself in the third person any minute now, you know.

I just wish my husband could be there for me right now, as I vaguely recall a sober him could be. There. I just need it to be heard, to say it. Not to complain, but to hear (see) myself say it. That's what I did with my statistics teacher yesterday. After my test, I went into the bathroom and cried for about five minutes, went to my next class and then stopped by his office to tell him that I bombed his test, and I knew the material. I don't expect anyone to do anything about that, and I was glad he understood, when I told him I just needed to say it. I have a lot of respect for him, after having another of his classes and then waiting to take this class with him, the only time he teaches it in the Spring. He seemed to understand.

Sheeww. I think maybe I can get a glimpse of Florence Joe down here in the bottom of myself. That's where she lives, you know (and I do not mean that schizophrenically)... or does she?

Oh, and I need to get laid. Pot smokers do not always have the same libido of horny late thirties women. C'mere Ween (wait a minute- my husband could be one of those guys- come into my imagination, at least)...


I Lied.

I am always asking things of you guys, and you reminded me why.... You entertain the hell out of me.

Afraid to be the first, words escape me;
Second is more comfortable, thankfully.
A sage once said 'tis more fun with three,
Proven here, we hope, so eloquently.

Why the two bun head, Freida Bee?
And what of your roots that I can see?
And what of roots, but rather wings?
These chains that hold me down, merely wispy strings.

Hhmm, maybe that is one and I don't know it.
It’s good I have you to help me with such things.
Rhymes mean so much more than silly zings.
Till you get back, I'm held together with strings.

Thank You to DCup, jobsanger, Randal, GETkristiLOVE, Devilham, Jess Wundren, Fade, Function of Time, Dean, and Utah Savage for writing the above poem.

Have I told you guys, "You Frock," lately? 'Cause ya do.

(And, because I know you must know, I had those shoes in royal blue with a golden yellow swish.)


When Have I Ever Asked You For Anything?

This past week has been a doosie, on so many levels.

I would know that I have three days and a week worth of classes... if I were counting, before I am out for the summer, with regular homeworks, two tests, the near total revision of that 10 page paper, a project, and a ten-page paper about a teen interview I have yet to conduct.

And, then there are the personal matters. Heavy. Right. Now.

I am going to, right now, ask you guys for a favor... to write my next post for me.

In comments, will you each contribute a line of a poem, the subsequent building on the previous?

I will so make it up to you here in a few weeks. Don't ask me what that means. I don't know, but I will.

If you're wondering, this is the hair update post. Who has time to give a fuck?


Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together: Oops, I Did it Again

Richard Thompson covers Britney Spears's Oops, I Did It Again

Jihad Jerry covers Devo's It's a Beautiful World

The second video doesn't exactly fit my usual criteria for this segment, but the rant at the end made me consider Jerry there great.


Arrgghh... I've. Been. Meme'd.

Rules of the game

*Link to the person who tagged you.
*Post the rules on your blog.
*Write six random things about yourself.
*Tag six random people by linking to their blogs.
*Let each of the six know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment (on each blog).
*Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

It's been a feckin' while and I was starting to feel unloved again, but thanks to Angry (the only kinda) Ballerina (to be), I can feign annoyance.

Well, crap. Not again. It's not like my blog is not already one humongous TMI (that's too much information for you out of the know.)

There were many things about my childhood that were less than ideal and I share those things or their residual emotional effect quite often, but here are six more positive memories...

* When I was about 8, I thought I could be a human dog whistle by doing this thing with my throat, basically like silent screaming. It seemed dogs tweaked their ears kinda funnily when I did it. I don't really wish to put this to a scientific test now though because I don't want to blow my personal myth.

* Maybe I wrote this one somewhere, but after attending camp and riding horses there a few years in a row, without my parents' knowledge, I approached my neighbors, who had a horse in the pasture behind our houses, and asked them if I could ride their horse some time. They said, "Yes," and I took that as blanket permission to go out and ride it bare back nearly every day for the remaining 6 weeks of the summer. How is it that back in the 70's and early 80's my parents never had any idea where I was for hours and hours at a time. Those were the days.

* There was a pond by that same house where I used to look for tadpoles and crawdads by myself for hours and hours, and when it would ice up around the edges in the winter, I would walk out on the ice as far as I felt I could. Miraculaously, I never fell in.

* On the day one of my neighbors and I found a huge stack of Hustlers out in the same afore mentioned fields, where we used to roam and roam. We looked at them and a few minutes later, I climbed up a nearby tree and got a piece of bark in my eye that didn't come out until my mother took me to an eye doctor a couple days later; he turned my eyelid inside out to remove the piece of bark. (I'm never wearing contacts and my porn aversion wore off!)

* My mother and my brother and I lived with my grandmother when my parents divorced for about 6 months. I used to go in the neighbor's barn and back behind it where there were caves in the side of a cliff, and I used to pretend I lived in those caves for a few hours at a time. If I could manage to bring food with me, then the whole scenario was all the more believable.

* When we were living with my grandmother, I went to the local school, where there used to be a spelling bee in the classroom every Friday. I remember Mrs. Bunch would send home a letter each Friday for me to give to my mother that said, "Freida won the spelling bee again this week." Later, in the official competition at the school level, I missed spelling the word anniversary. I'd like to blame it on the southern accents, as mine was kinda Minnesotan and midwestern at that time, but I really know I just didn't study that little book enough.

That has got to be way more than you'd ever care to know about my Arkansan childhood. I shall go to the evil task of taggin' folks...

Utah Savage


State Employees Outraged at Salary Cuts

AUSTIN- The Texas State Employees Union announced Friday afternoon that despite talks, male state employees will strike this coming week until negotiations with legislators bear a fruitful resolution to a budget crisis the Texas state house has handed state agencies. It seems legislators got tired of women's groups' nagging them about fair pay and finally agreed upon a solution that would be fair and not cost the taxpayers more money, nor make them cut back on the number of massages each legislator is allotted each month, eight.

What are state employees, particularly male state employees, up in arms about? Rather than raise the salaries of females who should be paid at the same rate as their male counterparts with the same number of years' service, state legislators have decided to decrease the pay of its male employees. While many admit the move is only fair, it seems not all are satisfied with the change. One employee at Child Protective Services, who wanted to remain anonymous for fear he would not be able to "get some" at Friday's happy hour, lamented, "We understand women need more money than men since their clothes are more expensive and they love to shop, but I am terribly against this." One caseworker with the food stamps division claimed, "I have been making more money than my supervisor for years and I am appalled at the suggestion that despite her five more years experience than me, that she will be able to flaunt her wealth over me. I am personally in favor of the decision, because I'd rather make less than I am making now than allow her to think she is superior to me by paying her more."

This whole debacle began arose when two state employees got married last October. The employees had followed their instruction not to discuss their rates of pay with their co-workers, but according to the female of the couple, "We tried to keep our salaries a secret from each other, but the truth cam out in a bank meeting for a housing loan. I tried not to make a big deal about it, to keep it to myself, and to even try and forget all about it all together, but things just changed." According to this employee, she has been working sixty hours a week on her salary for 45 thousand dollars a year in her four years with the unemployment commission while her husband was earning 47.5 thousand dollars a year after working at the agency only two years.

"We hope this would show those women that they should just keep their damn mouths shut," commented Rick Perry, Texas Governor, who himself is earning 3 times the amount former Texas governor Ann Richards earned a mere twenty years ago, thanks to a pay hike Richards's successor George Bush, Jr. left in his wake. When asked how she felt about the imminent strike, Elizabeth Gross, Perry's former assistant said, "Actually, I am looking forward to the strike. In our office over at Texas Legal Aid, many have expressed relief at a week without wearing make-up and high heels. I even heard one unmarried woman say she wasn't going to shave her legs all week. I'm not taking it that far, but I will appreciate the reduced pressure to seem sexy while I am doing my boss's work for him."

"We understand their hardships and are offering male employees their former pay rates during the striking period and will be holding negotiation luncheons at the Four Seasons and talks over golf in hopes it will encourage a hasty settlement of the matter," announced Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott.

Thanks to Liberality for the heads up on today's being Equal Pay Day.

And thanks to Feministing for feministing!


Tha Florence Joe Diaries: Fer Tha Love A Po'try

You Got's Me Up An' Tied

Ah's grabbin' you's hand
Ta touch ma tittie.
While ah's suckin' you's ear,
Tell me ah's pretty.

Open you's pants;
Kiss me wit' you's tongue.
Ma panties gets all wet
When you tells me ah's tha one.

Ah gots you's boner in ma hand;
Ah'll lick it 'till it's hard.
If you takes back wha' you said,
Ah'll slick it up wit' lard.


¡Very Nice!

I have really been into taking pictures for Splotchy's not so little fetish blog, The Signage of Negative Space. The picture of the mannequin and yesterday's picture were ones I took while in pursuit of negative signage one full-mooned night in March. I have become very fond of a few of the pictures I have taken and look forward to creating a flickr folder of them and some store front photos (and organizing my post tags) this summer when I am out of school and hope to write oodles and oodles. But, I digress.

Yesterday, on the way to taking my daughter to school, I saw this store front window and knew it was one I would like to go back and photograph, which was easy enough because it was on my usual route though that area. Eh, it's not my favorite picture, but I was certainly drawn to the wonderous depiction of women's bodies as headless. Just about an hour later, I was doing something I rarely do, looking at blogs (shhhshhh), when I should have been studying. I also from time to time look at my site meter; I noticed that in addition to some colorful search terms, like I Want to Eat Me Some, taste my panties and Hall and Oates 2008, I got a not so unusual search for Frieda Bee.

I clicked on it and low and behold, saw that someone has a recently taken a flickr pic of same (differently spelled) name as mine of headless store front bodies. WTF!? It's a better picture than mine, for sure, but certainly similar (in spirit) to the one I had just taken.

I investigated this Frieda bee, Inman Square, Cambridge a little more thoroughly (with one additional click) and found THIS STORE.

As Borat would say...


A Little Pick-Me-Up

Your Compliant Bride

Where the fuck
Is your compliant bride
With bedside manner
And hymen in tact?
Perhaps if you complain,
She will appear,
Lonely and defunct
Without your astute wit
To lead her away from herself.
She is ever-wet,
Ready for your dry fuck
With nary an utterance
Of that disgusting word cunt.
Her bitterness yet undeveloped,
She awaits your manly taming,
The suitable instrument
To unleash a whore
Like the one leaving you behind.

If you want more of the abuse feigning artistry, check out my poetry blog where I display more of my whorish bits, now more prettily than previously.

'Tis A Noble Undoing, don't you know... writing this crap.

Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together, Ten Page Paper Edition

The White Stripes Cover Dolly Parton's Jolene

OK Go covers ELO's Don't Bring Me Down


¿What Up?

It's not too often these days that I just sit down to write a post without having any idea of what it it will be about. Has my blog become formulaic, like good sex that's not surprising anymore? Do I provide just enough foreplay (Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together with the occasional Million Dollar Idea) to justify premature penetration (Tha Florence Joe Diaries and the rarely of late poem) with a dash of a twist (A (Horny) Security Guard File or a pseudo-Onion expose) in the face of your really hoping for an extended intellectual exchange (a ranting to a priest in which you get all the goods or my extended political opinion in which I formerly pimped Dennis Kucinich and now merely lament his being gone from time to time?) Where have the laughs (Multiple Stupidities) and the sillinesses (presinential underpantsings) gone? And, where do Froodles fit into all of this?

Have I lost my edge? Did I ever really have one? Am I a poet anymore if I was churning 'em out a mile a minute, and now all you find is a Hooters girl in their place? Am I asking too many quesions and not giving enough answers? A, true, Lithuania, 6(mod7), Darwin's Beagle voyage 1798, a double-sided t-test, Top-Dog Phenomenon? Are my answers lacking, anyway? Will I pull my head out enough to make the Dean's list this semester or will I merely skim by? With only three more weeks of classes, either is still possible and do I really care?

Have I been too personal, without saying my bra size (out loud?) Does a question mark even go before a parenthesis (when the parenthesis is at the end of the sentence?) Would I change my habit if I found it were wrong? What in the world did I miss when I did my co-worker's English homework for him, in an attempt to teach him a thing or two and then he wouldn't listen, and got him an 8 out of ten anyway? It seemed two sentences had two choices; semi-colons are never necessary. Will you still like me though I merely typed 8 and then spelled out ten?

I am not stupid and know this is merely masturbatory, but then I know that if I came upon someone masturbating (that was not my child or of some evilly equivalent age) I would not be able to avert my eyes, unless I did. Are moms supposed to tell their 15 year-old daughters about masturbation? Is that creepy? It seems too creepy. It is too creepy. Should I complain that she cleared the history on my laptop, but when I watched porn last week, I forgot to?

Can I please talk about something else now? Is this post going to only be questioning? Are these eliciting, open-ended questions, or are they closed? Am I annoying you? I annoy my children. Do I annoy my husband by spanking him while he's re-reading some sci-fi novel? Does he like it when I ask him to lay on top of me for no reason? What does it mean that when he is walking by me and I say, "Hey," he comes and gives me a kiss and we just noticed it and laughed about it after 10 years? Has it really been 10 years? Would he be pissed if he read my blog even though I tell him to read it? Is it okay to airbrush his face off the picture of him carrying his geeky magic card case posing as though it were his precious even though I promised to not post the picture, but then am writing about that?

Am I a lesbian? Is a little limited consensual polygamy so wrong in the case of bisexuality? Does my ass look fat in these jeans? If you can even wonder that, you should be happy. Am I depressed if I cry a lot? Am I repressed if I don't? Am I bi-polar? Am I schizophrenic? Am I a hypochondriac? What was that sensation in my head? Am I having a stroke? Do I have diabetes? Am I obsessive-compulsive because I can't go to sleep unless the last thing I did before I got into bed was pee, but that doesn't apply if I just fall asleep in mid-something? Was my mother who is phobic of snakes lying when she says she'll come to my house when she's in town even though I minimized their presence here and I promised to take our pet one over to a friend's house when she comes? I suspect she was. Does that anger me, or does that comfort me? What would she think if she ever read this? Oh. Don't go there.

Can I make a deal with the devil, even though I don't believe in his highness? Can he move me with the urge to write the ten page paper that is due Monday? What does my teacher think of me? Is she bi? She's hot and she lived in Europe and she's opinionated and smart and married with her kids and snickers when she talks of the Hookers who ruled England, and what cannot be liked about that? To what end would it be to come out of the closet? Why did my husband want to date me when I was dating a woman when we met? Does he (unconsciously) want me to leave him for a woman one day, since he doesn't (consciously) want to have hot, sexy, threeways? If I were on that lie detector show, would I lie to myself and then lose the money after I had wrecked every relationship I had and wound myself up in jail? Can a person be put in jail for asking too many questions or having nasty thoughts? Don't answer that or you'll be my accomplice.

If I could get away with robbing a bank, would I do it? Can I even write anything about the assassination of a president with the initials W without getting put in Gitmo or fired or spied on even more than I already am, not because I condone violence, but because I wouldn't boo, like I would have had I been at a certain baseball game the other day? Why in the hell would I write W's diary excerpts over in my MySpace blog? Am I a cheesy ho for liking MySpace? Stovetop or potatoes? Does it come in whole wheat? Can you make my pizza with a sprouted grain crust and soycheese, please? When will the flashbacks kick in? How can I survive after having left my cellphone at home today, prohibiting me from uploading that picture of my husband, not to mention I don't know people's phone numbers anymore? Why haven't I made a list of the numbers even though I narrowly escaped losing them by sprinklering my phone and now have one button inoperable?

Does Sascha Baron Cohen like me even though he doesn't know me? Is it wrong to like gay male porn the best? Did I just go too far? Will you give me money? What is Alzheimers like? Did I contract Mad Cow before I gave up beef four years ago? Where does Laura Bush do her drinking? Will my vote count? What have you done for me lately? Will you take me to Funky Town or is the best part of waking up really Foldger's in my cup? When you were a 12 year-old girl, did you ever wonder if a sperm would crawl into your vagina from a toilet seat and get you pregnant? What would Jesus wear?

How long can she go on like that? Do you have any pot? Do people who call themselves enlightened have a clue? What is your real name? Is there any husband who wouldn't be pissed at his wife for not having sex with Robert Redford for $100,000, even if he wouldn't say it? When ah talks all hick-like in ma writinings, do yoouu fear ah really talk like that? Will a younger Margaret Atwood marry me?

Have you even wondered how my hair's doing? Or, do you think matters of hair and the like shallow? Is this all real? Where did we come from? I mean how did we become aware of ourselves? Did some monkeys eat psychedelic mushrooms in Africa and then lose their hair over time and then call themselves not monkeys? Are you just an aspect of me and I just an aspect of you and we are just one being that exists in a reality that incorporates this one? Are there some abilities people claim they have that we call absurd the way people said an asteroid hitting the Earth to cause the extinction of the dinosaurs was laughed at when it was first introduced as was the case when that dude suggested continental drift?

Why do you read my blog? Do you think I'm sexy? Would you rather have more poetry, fiction, political musings, erotica, Froodles or nonsense such as this? Should I make one of those quizzes? Do you feel sorry for me? Will you respect me in the morning?

Will you make it stop? Ah... there is the real question.


Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together, VI

Goodness covers Schoolhouse Rock's Electricity

Liz Phair & Material Issue cover Tra La La, the Banana Splits theme


One in Which I Geek Out On Gardening

Last Mother's Day my husband (The Lumberjack) and my sons gave me a wonderful gift. While I was at work (oh, joy,) they worked really hard, and doubled the size of my little veggie and herb garden plot. (I had originally cultivated the left hand side that you see, and they added the right hand side.) I had grown a pretty good veggie yield the summer before, but then was somewhat discouraged when rabbits ate my winter harvest. Actually, I was happy they ate it, but I did not plant as much as I would have, had I thought we would be eating our own gourmet salads. And then, I never even planted anything more than two tomato plants and some basil last year. That was the first time in years I had not gardened and thought for sure I would plant a cool weather garden, but never did that either.

A month or so ago I bought a few plants and some seeds, and I tend to save seeds in my kitchen window from lovely specimens of organic produce, but Spring Break came and went with only clean carpets (for about a week) to show for it. Well, Tuesday was my day. My eight year old son had a dental appointment that I made him go to despite his saying that his throat hurt, and I had sympathy for him afterwards, with both sides of his mouth being numb and we played hooky the rest of the day. My husband agreed to pick every one up from school and my son and I set out on our grand endeavor. He really likes to keep nature journals and wrote down all of the critters we saw that day, a hawk, green anoles, a cardinal, a snake tail of unknown origin, a vulture, a skink..., you get the picture. He wrote down our garden plan. I would have just placed stuff, but we really had very few actual plants and more seeds, so I let him call the shots.

The first thing we had to do was weed out the grass and little primrose flowers and this is where I get all evangelical on the organic gardening thing, as it was a snap to remove the "weeds." I have that flimsy rock barrier, which does help, but the thing that makes the real difference is that I have composted and mulched the area for the past two years (which made it all the more silly that I never planted last year.) You see, the idea with organic gardening, and where I see people make mistakes is in two ways. They till the soil, for one. You may want to do that, and go ahead, but I do not recommend it. You create this loose "bowl" of dirt and your plants' roots will prefer to stay in the upper soil stratas where they find it very easy to grow, whereas their growing more deeply helps them go without water for longer, and then there is soil erosion..., one of the downfalls of man. Seriously. It takes years for soil ecosystems to develop and the whole idea with organic gardening is to promote the growth of organisms and let them do the work. They will aerate the soil and loosen it for you, hence the addition of compost to the native soil.

A second typical mistake is to bring in a bunch of gorgeous lush soil. While I do recommend amending the soil, I ask you to do so with the thought that you are improving your current soil, rather than replacing it. I do recommend on first plantings that you remove large rocks and grass, and loosen the upper layers of the sail (clay, if you live here in Central Texas.) There are a number of good soil amendments, depending on what your soil needs the most, lava sand, compost worm castings (an essential for me,) cornmeal, bat guano..., with the intention to add bulk (your garden is healthier with fiber too) and providing food for your microbial buddies, organic matter to break down. Compost adds the vermin in the first place if you have an underground adobe house in your yard. I love worm castings, because they fertilize and introduce little worm eggs, and then worms can work the soil for you. Think forest floor (and check out the Redenta's Garden and Dirt Doctor links-especially here in Texas, for more more formal write-ups. They are in the sidebar at My Landscape Fetish, where I am cross-posting this.)

So after I weeded (and my son seemed to be more managerial than blue collar, losing interest after the planning stages,) I tossed a handful of worm castings in holes for the thyme, tomato, rosemary, oregano plants I had purchased, being sure to loosen the roots of the plants so that they did not continue growing in the same pot-shaped pattern. I top-dressed with compost and went on to the seeds. In crevices I made with a pitchfork, I threw some worm castings, planted eggplant, cucumber, basil, and feverfew seeds that I bought and then red and green pepper, and squash seeds that I had saved, and top-dressed with compost.

Fortunately, by this time my other son came home and helped me by running in the sprinkler (that I was running lightly in the garden the whole time I was weeding and planting) while I mulched. Lastly, and very importantly, I watered the whole thing with a dilution of liquid seaweed. I have rarely had transplanted plants die with its use and it is reputed to help seed germination. The area's not too much to look at now, as mostly there are seeds planted, but I will be sure to keep you updated with pictures throughout the summer and maybe even extend this whole exaggerated thing into cooking segments and clean sweeps in different areas of my yard. I'm sure you will be on pins and needles, though it will be harder to take pictures... as I sprinkled my camera phone.


Kiss My Ass Cuss-O-Meter! (Oooh, I'm Such a Rebel Grrl.)

The Blog-O-Cuss Meter - Do you cuss a lot in your blog or website?
Created by OnePlusYou

Alright, it really said 29%, and I just thought that wasn't fucking high enough, so I thought I'd alter it, but it wouldn't let me input 99%, nor 98%, 97%, nor 92%. I'll settle for 69% with no complaints.

Do not let the sarcastic tone of my title detract from the honorific nature of a recent award. SuziRiot gave me this frockin' award and held me in the best company!

Scarlet Blue
Linda (Sama)

I'd like to pass it on to WhiskeyMarie, a sexy mojo-makin', bakin' connoisseur of all things absurd in the normal, and Angry Ballerina , though she's such a rebel she'll probably just say, "Fuck."

This is not a meme, so feign no obligation, not that a Rebel Grrl would... unless it offered entertainment value, perhaps.

And, because I wonder how I'd feel if the guys were passing an award around, I'm workin' on an award pic for Rebel Grrl with a penis. Of course, Fairlane would have to come first, but then Dr. Monkey would not be far behind. I just need a model for the pic. Takers?

Second in the Series... Million-Dollar Ideas- Free For the Taking

You may not be able to see it in writing, but I can be rather stubborn, and so I'll probably try this one. I have actually talked to a geneticist at UT, as I mentioned this idea during a research methods class in which I performed an experiment to assess the effectiveness of using seaweed, fish emulsion, or a seaweed and fish emulsion mixture versus simply water as a seed germinator and root stimulator in planting. (I did find statistical evidence that seaweed is effective, in the case of tomato and pepper seeds, btw.) My TA walked me over to the Biology building for a little conference, which was an extreme treat.

As is often the case with these million- dollar ideas, we are just lazy. Apparently, the million-dollar question is, "Do tomatoes have the capacity for capsicum?"

A hot tomato produced from the crossing together of tomato and hot pepper plants.

Salsa manufacturers can just start sending their checks. I will report back as soon as I have my greenhouse in place to conduct the experiments. The geneticist thought it may have to be done with genetic modification, which I am not in favor of, but said that if tomatoes have the capacity for capsicum it could theoretically be done by splicing the plants. I am stubborn and shall try the splicing to see for myself.

I want to eat me some little habanero grape tomatoes about now, with my eggs and sprouted grain bread for breakfast. Yum.

Tell me your million-dollar ideas, by comment or email! I know you've got them. Dish.


RIP Charlton Heston

I am a little late. Many have shared what they will remember him for...

This is the movie from which I will remember him most, Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine.

Update: Incidentally, and, I'd like to think, in his honor, my columbine has begun to bloom.


Why Do They Trust Me Here All Alone? (The Security Guard Files)

Jeanine wondered who would be there in the morning when she showed up for work. Juanita had just quit, at least she had given notice; this new person would be about the seventh new officer to fill that weekend overnight post. Joseph was a student like her, and had recently been in the military. He was easily ten years her junior, and was very likeable despite how good he seemed to know he looked. His sloppy, overly casual attitude and her vitriol mouth, which contradicted their obvious daily roles, are what eventually sealed their trust in each other.

Joseph caught on to the unsupervised slacking work style quite easily. Jeanine was impressed that not only had Joseph had the courage to leave his post for a few minutes to grab some food, but that he had been savvy enough not to get caught. In her three years working at the factory, she had not left her post once, but had mastered the art of the cat nap, despite the security cameras' omnipresence. Joseph was more weary of the cameras and revealed that he had done his napping in secluded rooms for even up to an hour at a time, being quite fearless after being shot at in a war, it seemed.

Jeanine had thought when they talked that Joseph would have liked her when she was twenty-five, a little wilder and prettier, but would not have wanted to date her with her two children. Jeanine was used to that and was all the more attached to her husband in the years since her twenties precisely for that reason. She might like to think it was appreciation, but she knew it had a lot more to do with compromise and a lot of hard work that rarely seemed worth the effort, that kept her with him.

"I'm really glad to get away from my house today," Joseph crassly declared. "Why?" Jeanine took the bait. "My girlfriend's uncle and his kids have been staying at my house for almost a week now and they're driving me crazy. I can't believe how sloppy they are and it's not even their own house." Jeanine figured the kids were just being normal kids, but recalled that single people rarely have the tolerance that comes along with the affection for children and simply listened to his complaint.

Joseph was sometimes surprised at Jeanine's matter-of-fact attitude. He had guessed her to be about ten years older than him, a little over thirty, but he also knew she had two children, one, just the same, ten years younger than him. One day, when he had asked her how much her laptop had cost her, an investment he was wanting to make, she told him a ridiculous amount; he had joked of how he would need for it to give head for that price, and she didn't even wince at his comment, only jokingly lamenting the lack of such an unrealistic perk with her purchase.

One Saturday, during their shift change, they discussed the cameras and he speculated that it was possible for them to be watched remotely, even right then. It was Jeanine's flippant comment about how that would be kinky that brought thoughts into Joseph's head that he just couldn't shake in the coming months, not that he necessarily wanted to be rid of them in the midst of his twelve-hour shifts.

Jeanine took Joseph's "giving head' comment too innocently, about her and her computer, she later realized. Perhaps, he had been hinting at a blow job; she became very aroused at the thought. Painfully, in her daily life she had resented the perceived selfishness with which her husband could receive ten blowjobs for every one he seemed willing to reciprocate without even batting an eye, while she knew of other men's obvious affection for the act, one even she herself had embraced in her own bisexuality. Ironically, with Joseph, the thought of the giving became much more interesting to her than the thought of the receiving.

Joseph contemplated that if he was going to get Jeanine to get him off that it would have to be on a Saturday since the otherwise empty factory was being cleaned on Sundays during their shift change and he wanted her to do it on his time on the clock, not hers, not after he'd been up all night and could go home and fuck his girlfriend anyway.

He arrived that first Saturday with his usual punctuality and didn't feel the need to skirt around the issue, but told Jeanine to come with him, away from their desk, where he knew a camera to be lurking. Once they had left the lobby, he took her hand with a rather strong grip, and led her just a bit up the hall into one of the conference rooms, where he saw she was doing the same thing as him, smiling vulnerably.

When Joseph opened his jeans, which he had defiantly been wearing instead of his uniform pants for months now, Jeanine just stood there looking at him curiously, passively. "Well, do you want to suck me?" Joseph asked, actually more kindly than the words themselves implied, already half erect. "Can I?" Jeanine asked, playing along with a submissiveness that Joseph had not imagined she had in her.

She caressed his cock with her tongue, just enough to moisten it before she took it into her mouth very slowly, savoring the moment, as it had been seven years of the same one she had known before this, and her heart was pounding. Jeanine did not look up to Joseph as she was feeling some shame, but had no intention of stopping, not while she was this turned on. After a few seconds that seemed like much longer to her, the novelety transformed into intensity as she allowed his cock, slightly larger than her husband's, to ease into her throat, for which she had to suspend her breathing.

Joseph leaned on of the edge of the conference table, for once, not ridiculing its pretentious size in his mind, and felt his cock tingle at the touch of Jeanine's tongue. She was a beautiful woman, too old to be his type, but quirky in a smart kind of way that he liked more than he usually let on. He touched her head. It was really the first time he had touched her other than grabbing her hand a few minutes before, and he felt that her cheek was extraordinarily soft and that, as he had suspected, she was a total sexpot. His girlfriend would not take his cock down her throat like that, not like the hookers in Iraq would, and shortly thereafter everything that was not his dick in Jeanine's mouth disappeared.

He grabbed her short hair rather tightly and Jeanine found that, as he fucked her mouth for as long as could, her eyes watered and her panties dampened under her tacky uniform. Joseph felt his orgasm creep up slowly into his belly, where he noticed one of Jeanine's hands was pressing him back and down past where her other hand was wrapped around, holding his inner thigh much more tightly.

Because otherwise the whole event was far too predictable, Jeanine, unconsciously, but intentionally, made sure that when Joseph's pace suggested, she let his cock slide out of her mouth just for a second in mid-ejaculation so that his cum squirted her in the face a little before she enveloped it wholly and the last of it landed in her mouth.

Jeanine felt her tongue tingle as they just sat there few seconds, nestled in a profound quietude. Joseph slowly closed his pants and Jeanine walked to the bathroom that was just outside of the conference room and rinsed and dried her face. Joseph was waiting in the hall for her and they returned to the desk area where she briefed him on a few items of business, slowly gathered her things and left, looking forward to the quiet evening she would spend with her husband, for a change.

Go ahead... use it for your Penthouse letters. It will be as true for you as it is for "Jeanine." Admit it. You wondered.


Rant Du Jour

This is a comment that I almost left at a blog today (yesterday) and then thought of (more than a couple) other things that I want to say. I do not want to be divisive, intolerant of others’ views, or defensive (intolerant of my own,) but the political ideas I have encountered in the last couple days have brought up some thoughts that have a lot of emotion behind them, anger and fear, shame and who knows what else. I’m sure I’ll come to it in the writing of this.
"Election reform needs to happen. Can someone fucking sue the two parties for being monopolies? No one who is put in the power in a system to change the system's way of assigning power has much motivation to change that system. And, we certainly can't count on our soon-to-be lame-duck president's altruism.

I saw your comment over there and you know I sent my email out in which I justify my voting for Obama. I am a thinking person (in a state without Kucinich on the ballot no less) who was completely inspired by the number of people of color who got out and voted and caucused for him.

I agree with the Green Party on nearly every policy issue and yes if everyone voted their conscience, then people with a conscience would win. I was prepared to do that for Kucinich and then his own party did not even back him up to be in debates or on ballots.

I joined 35%ers because I really thought Dennis had a chance. I joined out of a very realistic desire to get him elected and I so want to choose other realistic goals and work toward them. My time is valuable. Why would I want to waste it? I am not saying that realistic goals cannot be lofty. There is a difference, and I think it benefiting no one for me to put a large amount of time into making a decision I weigh heavily and then be treated disrespectfully for doing so, nor do I think should others. I also think it benefits those I care about and those I feel are victims of US policy to not do anything whatsoever that risks McCain being elected (at this point.)

These things do not mean I do not support third parties or their candidates. These issues are not black and white like that. And, neither is there a right or wrong."
It was not the leaving the comment to that one person that mattered, but the saying (writing) it period that mattered to me. There are some reasons why I would have liked (or will in the future) Kucinich to be president and they are becoming clearer to me now. Many of you likely know his stances. They are appealing to many who consider themselves liberal, an immediate end to the war in Iraq and universal health care in a not-for-profit single-payer structure (I actually don’t know what every single term in that means (I get the gist,) but I know that in a sense, it is socialized medicine, as public schools are now, taxpayer (or governmentally-generated-profit) funded.) I think a man who is a vegan is keen to the issues that exist regarding sustainable agriculture, he stood up to strong resistance and refused to bow down to political pressure by corporations in his run as mayor, even being ousted as a result, only to later come back more resilient as a congressman. He led efforts to impeach Dick Cheney (first) and there was promise in that that some of those in the current administration could be held accountable (legally) for their crimes (against humanity.)

Oh, yes, his wife would make a fine first lady being savvy politically, a powerful humanitarian and wise herself. After Pickles and Chimpy I thought I might even be able to proud of my country. I could likely go on and on, and there are the more negative factors that are a mix of media and political influence and personal leadership issues on which Davis’s most recent video (in my previous post) elaborates.

I have liked Gravel in a crazy old uncle way and think that he’s got it going on policy-wise, but I was not ever planning on voting for him. I was wondering why. Why not Nader this time? I actually shall not make up my mind about these things at this point though because, well, I don’t have to. I knew I wanted to vote in the Democratic primary and though I usually early vote, I waited until Election Day for two reasons. One, I wanted every minute to explore the candidates, national and local (which I find to be as important) and two, I wanted to caucus.

I realized today that some of my old feelings about politics came up. I voted for Obama in the primary, which I say defensively because Kucinich was not on the Texas ballot (for completely unfair and corrupt reasons that are at the core of some of the problems in politics.) I am similarly defensive about voting for Nader in 2000. I live(d) in Texas, where Bush was projected to (and did) win by a landslide. I know that there are many that saw Nader as a spoiler, and I do not fault him for running one bit. We all know that Bush stole the election, not because he did not win the popular vote, but because he did not win the electoral votes either, but that is bloody water under the bridge at this point and we must go forward and hope that he ends up in the Hague within the next few years, as I don’t want him coming back to Texas endangering those I love by making my also naturalized home a terrorist target (Oops, too late.)

And, in all this, I realize, the aspect of Kucinich that I like the most is the very one that makes him most unelectable. It has to do with class, or as those of us in the education biz like to call it, SES Socio Economic Status. SES is THE NUMBER ONE predictor of educational achievement in America. (I’ll give you a link to a study, but I learnedt this shit in classes, so’s you gots to believe it.) This is why I like, far beyond my slim ability to write all proper and shit, to write with colloquialisms, particularly those of the redneck. It helps me to more adeptly express who I am. One characteristic of SES or as I like to call it, to intermingle phrases (probably inaccurately,) class, is that it does not actually refer to actual wealth and sometimes it stretches beyond actual reality, as it seems to me to be more of an attitude about one’s place in the world.

This article is excellent, Social Class and the Hidden Curriculum of Work by Jean Anyon. If I can recommend one article for you to read all year, it is this one. That is because this here’s my issue, a decider for me when it comes to politics, a motivator for me when it comes to deciding to be a teacher. Education and resources in our country, or as I might like to mix another term, privilege (which I did just have to spell check (SEE- yea right on my Mac laptop)) are distributed according to SES. This is why I’m a socialist as far as resources and protecting the environment go. Have you ever, after being the child of teenage parents, had three children as a single mom and had no health care for yourself and had two jobs that you thought you might not be capable of showing up for, which is rotten because that means there’s no rent, and you go to work anyway FOR A MONTH and then get pneumonia from the stress and the suckinesses of it all? I have. Too many have.

There is like a PTSD that comes along with the experience of poverty in our culture, and while it is the stuff from which character is built, so is surviving abuse or addiction; some seem able to shake and some do not, but very few forget it on an emotional level. It is the basis for that whole (pertinent, I know) old money, new money debate that goes on in the heads of those who have too much leisure time on their hands. This is why I like Dennis Kucinich. This is why I don’t like Clinton or Edwards (he seems to have been able to forget) politically, and even why I don’t like Gravel (as a politician,) even though I like his policy stances. He is very loveable as a crazy old uncle, but his eccentricities remind me of a crazy old RICH uncle. This is why George Bush can be the biggest dipshit on the planet with the most power. This is why I can tolerate Barrack Obama as well.

Race is a major factor in SES. The reality is that money does not take class out of a person, and even rarer (is Michael Jackson the only one?) can it take race or sex out of a person (and I am not referring to sex change operations,) but even still, statistically, the number one factor for disparity in education is SES and the number one factor for SES is race (not sex) and this brings me to the idea of privilege.

There are hierarchies of status (that I am far too lazy to research here) which pervade communities that might be seemingly wanting to overcome the idea, even if they are convoluted to those outside those communities. Women, at least by virtue of the economic reality of childbirth and their diminished ability (very often) to work during that time in their lives, increasing their vulnerability to hardship (too often) experience less privilege (sheesh, I already forgot how to spell it) in the workplace. There are historical components, but there are certain structures (in this case biological, but also political and social,) that keep the isms in place. (Really read that article, by Jean Anyon- I am putting it in my sidebar in links.) These factors in our culture, make it totally essential for there to be a woman or a man of color as president right now. We recognize this, if there is to be any real representation in our “democracy,” but which is it? Hillary Clinton may suffer under the, even today, apparent detrimental effects of sexism. I cannot decide if I believe it to be more pervasive and more deceptively ingrained than racism or not, the assault on emotions. This assault is the new sexism. The utterenaces of, "Boys Don't Cry", is the evidence.

Our culture is built on the back of our denial of feminism, which, for another post, I would assert is at the core of our willingness to destroy our planet, our MOTHER earth, as we call her. And this, the most offensive thing I may have ever encountered working within a community of local activists within which I had worked with over the course of years, that picture of the earth that says, “Love your Mother. Don’t become one.” I could never quite acclimate to the single lifestyle necessary to fit into that scene after I had already had children, a reality which brought the importance of some of these issues to the forefront of my mind, to really have the privilege to keep riding my bike every goddamn place after I had kids (some manage and I applaud them,) and to not partake of so much of our consumeristic society that is destructive to our planet and I have deep guilt ingrained in me for being an environmentalist after and during breeding or rather for breeding while and after considering myself an environmentalist.

I am aware of the fact that overpopulation is one of the greatest evils to our planet. Empowering women is one of the best gifts we can give them in overcoming this. Greater reproductive and educational choices, which is best had in the context of free universal healthcare and equitable college and public school education, I believe, is the remedy. I really need to look into those ideas more, but I digress and want to get back to why I like Dennis Kucinich.

He does not say what it is that the media, his peers in Congress, and particularly corporations want him to say. He’s like the kid that the rich kid brings to the country club who tackily comments that all the servers are black or, “Isn’t that fancy?” One of the major requirements of privilege and CLASS is being UNDERSTATED. DON'T POINT THAT SHIT OUT. He has refused to forget from where it is that he comes, though he has the privilege to be proud of it (and I do not know him personally and these are my crackpot impressions) and he speaks the truth. And no one listens to it.

There are those in power who would like to silence him, not just people, but corporate entities and major social structures that are pervasive in our culture. The same goes for Nader and McKinney and other green Party and third party candidates, and Ron Paul in his Republican bid. Class is such a pervasive issue that I really don’t see it being possible to have a major revolution from within the current power structures without there being a major leveling of the playing field, a middle step or two. Otherwise, Kucinich would be our frontrunner. Obama is our middle step. He may not be the most progressive candidate, policy-wise, and while I do agree it could be said that that should matter the most, I may be saying that from a position of white privilege. I love this video.

Whether we like it or not environmental restoration and preservation is a luxury to those struggling to survive, one that is becoming more and more a necessity. Yes. Have you noticed the number of organic products, not on the shelves of Whole Foods, but on the shelves of regular major grocery stores? I agree there there are such major injustices, corruptiveness that exist today that we should stop everything else we are doing and change them YESTERDAY, but the reality is that I may be as mainstream as they come after all and I will drive my kids to school in my mini-van and then vote for commuter rail (I live in the dichotomy that I look forward to overcoming economically of living in a green home out in the country. So while I have solar panels, I have no busses and have to drive places. With more money, upon my eventual college graduation, I can get myself a hybrid car or afford to live decently in the city.) I might welcome the downfall of financial markets more than some, but I do not enjoy the privilege of being able to go without work and still feed my kids.

So what I am saying over and over again really (I know, I listen to my kids who tell me I do that) is that Gore called it a tipping point and I do think we are excruciatingly close to it, or at least I hope we are.

Don't worry. Coming soon: My usual redneck sluttinesses.

Am I Short on Sleep or Short on Hope? I'm Ambivalent

Yes, yesterday's post was an April Fool's joke. Gravel is not actually dropping out of the race. (Is that the funniest part of the whole "hoax?" Probably.) I loved Pidomon's comment to that post, which pointed out the humor in Mike Gravel's defiantly refusing a cabinet post in an Obama administration. Now, will it be Mike's hasty refusal to take said post or the fact that Obama would never offer such a position? Now, sadly, we will never know.

The sad part of the "hoax" is that Obama is not supporting The National Initiative. The small group of us who did post the April Fool's post were united under the moniker The 35 Percenters. Please join up if you are so inclined. Email someone. I don't know who. So go look, or email me if necessary and I'll send you to some one or to the whole group or just declare you a part, as we are pretty much a consensus group it seems (though I just decided to call it that.) We were so named from being not of the 35% of registered Democrats who had merely heard of Dennis Kucinich, but of being in the 1% or so of Democrats who actually supported his presidential campaign, and that I did wholel-heartedly. There was a time that I actually thought he had a chance, that his message of real change would find a votership who READY FOR CHANGE. I was wrong.

Sure, the majority of voters agreed with Kucinich policywise according to some online polls it would be better if I were citing right now, but we all know who calls the shots. Wait, who calls the shots? I think few of you would disagree with me that Kucinich and Gravel suffered under the stigma of the perpetual Howard Dean scream, and then it was Howard Dean who himself did not back Kucinich in his denial by the Texas Democratic Party to be placed on the Texas ballot, and his omissions from seemingly Democratic debates. The party united (except Clinton) in boycotting the elections in Michigan and Florida and were they truly united, they would have boycotted the debates which quite biasly excluded some of the Democratic candidates. Maybe, they could argue that certain criteria must be met... blah, blah, blah, but even when they were met, Kucinich was denied, and on occasion, Republicans who had the same requirements and failed to meet them were still included in the very samely hosted debates. Is the media, the establishment, the powers that be afraid of Kucinich's message of hope? Yes, in my opinion that is at the root of this, but far closer to the surface is a different reality.

Clinton and Obama have run better campaigns than Gravel and Kucinich. Is that Clinton and Obama have more money, are being presented by the Democratic Party as their two viable contenders that we can now select between? Yes. Am I mad at Pelosi for refusing to allow impeachment to be on proverbial table? Yes. Am I mad at Democrats for not overriding Bush's warmongering? Hell yes! Do I believe the US is engaged in a massacre on a grand scale akin to the Holocaust with victims called terrorists and innocent bystanders rather than Jews? I certainly do, and I am not ashamed to say, "I am ashamed to be an American."

Do I think there is a huge difference between McCain and Clinton, or between Clinton and Obama? Maybe a teensy. Not nearly enough to justify my having voted for Obama in the primary, likely. Today, I have seen some brave 35 Percenters proclaim that they themselves will stick by their guns and vote for third party candidates and agendas despite the proverbial balls the status quotisticians have us by. I admire that. Do I think it risky to flirt with a McCain presidency? Yes, definitely.

Do I see a contradiction here? I am a math major for godless sake. When one wants to prove something mathematically (or logically,) one may prove it directly or one may suppose the opposite and then provide a contradiction, which is the logical equivalent to proving the affirmative case. I will utilize the logic of proof and the burden of statistics to reach a conclusion. (It's always the stifling simplicity that is hardest to deal comprehend.)

That would follow... Suppose: It's not risky to flirt with a McCain presidency. 100 more years of war. Contradiction. Therefore it is risky to flirt with a McCain preisdency. Sometimes the simplest proofs are the most difficult to understand. I'm hust pulling shit outta my ass here, but the reality is that there is no right answer. We do not know what will happen in any hypothetical circumstances (unless you're a fundamentalist Christian. In that case, I am damned and going to hell anyway.) Hasn't Chimpy made us itch for change more deeply. Is Obama an appeasement candidate who helps us make-up and cozy-up with our destructive status quo, that codependent lover or he a step in the right direction? Or is a healing crisis what we need, some of McCain's bitter medicine that makes us say, Damn, that's so nasty, I am willing to let it go?

Basically, we are addicts and the question is are we at our collective bottom?

If you change then I'll change. Little by little I buy more and more organic products, I put sustainable structures into place in my life, but is it fast enough, complete enough that I am one who can call the proverbial kettle black? No.

Is it not the utter hopelessness of the possibility of real change enough to elicit the need for a savior, an Obamaesque figure in history? I admit, it is on mythic levels that the change he brings is real. Is anyone in power due to the structures within the system that put him or her there going to be willing to change them? I'm ambivalent.

Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together, V

Radiohead covers The Smiths's The Headmaster Ritual

Cake covers Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive


I'm Impressed...

...just enough to jump of the Jesus train for a minute here. Have you heard of this? (H/T to Tengrain for the heads up.)
Obama Adopting National Initiative. Gravel to Drop Out of Race

PHILADELPHIA —Former Democratic Presidential Candidate Mike Gravel has announced his intention to drop out of the presidential race after meeting with Democratic frontrunner Barack Obama. Gravel, who switched parties to run as a Libertarian on March 26th, stated that his decision was the result of a pledge from Obama to adopt the National Initiative for Democracy. The National Initiative, which would allow citizens to propose, alter, or nullify laws in conjunction with traditional legislative bodies, has been the cornerstone of Gravel’s presidential run.

During his run for the Democratic nomination, Senator Gravel had accused Obama of being beholden to “corporatocracy” and “the military-industrial complex”. While downplaying his previous denunciations as water under the bridge, Gravel did admit that strong disagreements still exist between him and the Senator from Illinois. This apparent chasm was highlighted by Gravel’s insistence that he would turn down any offer to be in Barack Obama’s cabinet should he become president.

A senior aide for the Obama campaign, speaking on condition of anonymity, said it was premature to comment on the specific role Gravel would play in an Obama administration, but did state that the former senator from Alaska would be involved in creating an agency called The United States Electoral Trust, which would administer the legislative power of citizens at the federal level.

The aide also stressed the importance of the National Initiative in setting the Obama campaign apart from that of Democratic rival Hillary Clinton. “Countries like Switzerland have shown that federal ballot initiatives can produce sound lawmaking,” she said. “It’s time that a major candidate for president got behind a serious proposal to entrust the people with the same power we place in the hands of our elected leaders. By adopting the National Initiative, Senator Obama is sending a clear signal that he trusts the American people to have a more direct role in their government.”

Before announcing his intent to bow out of the race for the presidency, Senator Gravel discussed his meeting with Barack Obama. “Stop and think,” Gravel told reporters. “This is a real chance to empower the American people by giving them the ability to make laws. 24 states already have ballot initiatives that give the people the same power as their representatives without dramatically changing the way our government works.”

Senator Barack Obama was unavailable for comment, but the meeting was confirmed by a spokesperson for his campaign, who said that Obama was “looking forward” to working with the former senator in order to “show that Americans are serious about democracy”.
I'm gonna miss that spunky bastard! Honestly, I had never heard of The National Initiative, but it sounds über cool!

I almost published an apologetic post for my excessive expressive tendencies of late, but this encourages me to express myself and let my voice be heard, even if, at times (and you'd best not agree,) it is shrill. Isn't that my right? To alienate as many people as I wish? I am being facetious, even in writing this very sentence. I hope Jesus will forgive me for sinning; that's all I gots ta say.

Oh, and I found this...