Sam Ashworth
In the summer of 1856, tensions between the Ashworths and those Whites who felt the Ashworths should be eliminated came to a head when an Ashworth was accused of stealing hogs by a White man. The young man's cousin, Sam Ashworth, when getting the young man out of jail, had an exchange of words with a White man. Family tradition says the man, by the name of Deputy, called Sam a "hog stealin' nigger." Sam called him out, probably promising to whip his sorry ass right there on the spot in front of God and neighbor. Deputy declined, but went to the justice of the peace and swore a warrant out for Sam for "talking sass to a White man." Sam had to appear in court on the charge. First it had to be proved that Sam was indeed a non-White. The evidence consisted of White people getting on the stand and saying they knew Sam to have some Black blood in him somewhere in his distant genealogy. That was it. Sam was found guilty and sentenced to be publicly whipped.
Sam was allowed to escape from jail by the sheriff who himself was allied more with the Ashworths than the White parties. Sam went off down the swamp and stayed with relatives. Well, story goes, a bunch of the boys, first cousins for the most part, got drunk and Sam decided he was going to have a little instant justice for himself. He and his first cousin, Jack Bunch, took their guns and put out in a pirogue on Cow Bayou looking for the man who started the whole ruckus, Deputy.
He came along soon enough and Sam and Jack intercepted him. I imagine Sam told the s.o.b. to get right with God, and then shot him. The other man in the boat escaped and went back to town with a story about being ambushed by Sam Ashworth and Jack Bunch. A mob formed demanding the sheriff arrest the two and bring them back to town for hanging. The sheriff dutifully went out looking for Sam and Jack, staying out several days before coming back in saying he couldn't find hide nor hair of them, and that they must of fled the state back over to the Neutral territory which was now a part of Louisiana, but still another jurisdiction.
The mob decided to go out on their own and look for Sam and Jack. They went to the homes of other Ashworths and their cousins and proceeded to burn their homes and barns. The Ashworths and their cousins formed their own posse and burned a few barns of their own. After a few weeks of this, the state sent in its authority whether by Rangers or militia is uncertain, but the State's authority came down against the Ashworths who were forced to flee Texas.
Jack and Sam had taken refuge, not in the Neutral Territory, but San Antonio where Jack was recognized and arrested. He was brought back to Beaumont where he was tried and hanged. Sam was never captured. He later died serving in the Army of the Confederacy at the Battle of Shiloh in 1862. (I can't remember right now. I'll come back later and fill in the blanks.)
Sunday, August 17, 2003
About Race
Someone once said to me when I protested being considered African-American that it was no shame being Black. I quickly responded, "It's no honor either, especially if you're not."
I don't mind that history says I descend from Texas' most famous Black family. What I object to was that all it took to convict us of being Black in the early 1800s was an accusation. Not that we were afforded the opportunity to defend against the accusation, but how does one disprove something as nefarious as the race of your great-grandparents? That was then and this is now, right? Wrong. Now, 150 to 200 years later, contemporary historians are validating the racist, kangaroo courts of the early 19th century by saying yes, indeed, we were Black, without the addition of a single piece of evidence. That's what bugs me the most about this argument.
Someone once said to me when I protested being considered African-American that it was no shame being Black. I quickly responded, "It's no honor either, especially if you're not."
I don't mind that history says I descend from Texas' most famous Black family. What I object to was that all it took to convict us of being Black in the early 1800s was an accusation. Not that we were afforded the opportunity to defend against the accusation, but how does one disprove something as nefarious as the race of your great-grandparents? That was then and this is now, right? Wrong. Now, 150 to 200 years later, contemporary historians are validating the racist, kangaroo courts of the early 19th century by saying yes, indeed, we were Black, without the addition of a single piece of evidence. That's what bugs me the most about this argument.
Texas, continued
Colored Outside the Lines
When Texas was a part of Mexico, the Ashworths were no different from their American neighbors. They obtained land, managed herds of cattle and hogs, and lived in relative peace with their neighbors. Some of their neighbors may have considered them "Not White," but few mentioned it to their face. Racism as a state institution may have been coming into being, but its enforcement required one to be able to shoot and fight, and few challenged the manpower of the Ashworths and their allied families or their willingness to fight to protect what was theirs. My point being, no one called us "niggers" to our face.
But racism in the South was more than just personal animosity, it was enforced by the state. In the 25 years between independence from Mexico and the start of the Civil War, the Ashworths and their allied families fought the attempts by the state to marginalize them. When William Ashworth and Diedre Gallier were charged with cohabitating (their marriage not recognized by the state of Texas), they took their case all the way to the Texas Supreme Court, only to lose. There were 15 indictments returned against the Ashworth family for various offences involving their marriage to Whites. Often they just paid the fines and went on with their lives. More often, they looked to their cousins for spouses. I'm not sure where the line was with cousins, historically, but growing up in East Texas, marriage between first cousins and their offspring were off limits, and between second cousins it was discouraged. My aunt married a second cousin and she and her husband were shunned for the first several years. On the other hand, third cousins were fair game.
When wronged by neighbors, the Ashworths sued; and their neighbors sued them. They were in all respects like their neighbors, just darker. By the laws of the Republic of Texas and subsequently by the State of Texas, people considered non-White were not allowed to own property. The Ashworths owned property; owned slaves, too. We have no record of any of the Ashworths or their allied families voting or running for office. I'm not even sure they could read. They did form churches, White churches.
My point here is not to claim that we didn't have Black blood. Probably we did. Don't know for sure. My question to present day historians, is why do you paint us today with the same racist brush you used 150 years ago?
Here's a group of people, white identified, having few or none of the racial markers characteristic of Blacks, but marginalized by the dominant society with only the accusation of being mixed blood.
MORE TO COME
Colored Outside the Lines
When Texas was a part of Mexico, the Ashworths were no different from their American neighbors. They obtained land, managed herds of cattle and hogs, and lived in relative peace with their neighbors. Some of their neighbors may have considered them "Not White," but few mentioned it to their face. Racism as a state institution may have been coming into being, but its enforcement required one to be able to shoot and fight, and few challenged the manpower of the Ashworths and their allied families or their willingness to fight to protect what was theirs. My point being, no one called us "niggers" to our face.
But racism in the South was more than just personal animosity, it was enforced by the state. In the 25 years between independence from Mexico and the start of the Civil War, the Ashworths and their allied families fought the attempts by the state to marginalize them. When William Ashworth and Diedre Gallier were charged with cohabitating (their marriage not recognized by the state of Texas), they took their case all the way to the Texas Supreme Court, only to lose. There were 15 indictments returned against the Ashworth family for various offences involving their marriage to Whites. Often they just paid the fines and went on with their lives. More often, they looked to their cousins for spouses. I'm not sure where the line was with cousins, historically, but growing up in East Texas, marriage between first cousins and their offspring were off limits, and between second cousins it was discouraged. My aunt married a second cousin and she and her husband were shunned for the first several years. On the other hand, third cousins were fair game.
When wronged by neighbors, the Ashworths sued; and their neighbors sued them. They were in all respects like their neighbors, just darker. By the laws of the Republic of Texas and subsequently by the State of Texas, people considered non-White were not allowed to own property. The Ashworths owned property; owned slaves, too. We have no record of any of the Ashworths or their allied families voting or running for office. I'm not even sure they could read. They did form churches, White churches.
My point here is not to claim that we didn't have Black blood. Probably we did. Don't know for sure. My question to present day historians, is why do you paint us today with the same racist brush you used 150 years ago?
Here's a group of people, white identified, having few or none of the racial markers characteristic of Blacks, but marginalized by the dominant society with only the accusation of being mixed blood.
MORE TO COME
Friday, August 15, 2003
Hillbillyisms
My blog cousin, Sara, over at Hillbilly Sophisticate is collecting a list of words which are pronounced uniquely by our hillbilly cultures. (And if you don't think East Texas is populated by hillbillies, just go visit and listen to 'em sometimes.) Here are some East Texas, Westen Louisiana specialties:
Hisn. His
Hern. Hers
Pert near. Close
Batry. Battery
Clum. climbed
Cyore. To cure
Puore. Pure
Pizzen. Poison
We got a bunch more, but this this is Sara's project. I'm jist tossin' in a few of iron.
My blog cousin, Sara, over at Hillbilly Sophisticate is collecting a list of words which are pronounced uniquely by our hillbilly cultures. (And if you don't think East Texas is populated by hillbillies, just go visit and listen to 'em sometimes.) Here are some East Texas, Westen Louisiana specialties:
Hisn. His
Hern. Hers
Pert near. Close
Batry. Battery
Clum. climbed
Cyore. To cure
Puore. Pure
Pizzen. Poison
We got a bunch more, but this this is Sara's project. I'm jist tossin' in a few of iron.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Texas
The widow of my father's oldest brother lives on the Sabine River where Nichols Creek empties into it. Her name is Winnie Harden Bridges and she is now 81 years old. I call her Aunt Melvin and have since I was 4. I have no idea why, but I must have been persistent enough for it to stick, and now my siblings and my mother also call her Melvin.
Aunt Melvin is a Roman Catholic. It's an important part of how she sees herself, the world, and everything in between. I think my father was infatuated with her from the first time he met her, shortly before World War II. When he got back from the war, he lived with his oldest brother, Cliff and his new wife, Winnie.
Prior to his being killed in December 1952, my father converted to Catholicism and had all of us children baptised Catholic as well. I can't remember if my mother converted at this time, and neither can she. I've asked. After the death of my father, I lived with my maternal grandmother in East Texas who was a Pentecostal. I cannot bring myself to use the term "holy roller" because it fails to reflect the dignity my grandmother brought to her simple faith.
My grandmother was appalled at the idea that any of her family could embrace Catholicism. Thus began the competition between my Aunt Melvin and my grandmother for my soul which resulted in my being very conflicted about religion from the time I knew there were different churches until I became a Zen Buddhist Jewish Pentecostal Episcopalian several years ago. Suddenly, it all made sense, but that's another story saved for another time.
Anyways, I was talking to my Aunt Melvin and she asks in her simple Bayou drawl, "Raymond, are you going to move back here after you retire?"
"Sugah," says I, "it's hot as hell there most of the time, except when it's freezing. You have every variety of poisonous snake found in North America: rattlesnakes, copperheads, coral snakes and water mocassins. You have not only black widow spiders in abundance, but you also have the deadly brown recluse, and while not deadly, the tarantula is also plentiful. In late summer you have what we called "fuck bugs" that turn the sky black and ruin the finish on your car. Now the are mosquitos, always fierce and abundant, are spreading the West Nile virus. I don't know about you, but I find it disconcerting to see birds dropping dead around you, y'know? Oh, and the fire ants. Deadly fuckers. And wasps. And probably killer bees. And the worsest of them all, the state is populated in large part by redneck assholes. Who else but Texans could be taken in by an upper class, Connecticutt yankee pretending to be a Texan pretending to give a fuck about common people?
But my story is about Texas. The first record of any of my ancestors getting to Texas was a census taken by a Spanish commandante at a camp near what is now Liberty, Texas in 1807. The ancestors from my mother's mother's family, John Aaron Drake, his wife Chastity, and several of their children were among the first American settlers to make it into Texas. They had been in Louisiana for 20 years prior to the excursion into Texas. They went back to Louisiana the following year.
In the early 1830s, the next two branches of my family would enter Texas. One to the north to San Augustine, the other to southeast Texas, to what is now Jefferson and Orange counties.
The part that always amazes me is that they came, they liked the place and they stayed. Well, I don't know how much they liked the place, but they did stay. They made history, in that their story is the story of Texas. They were players, all of them.
My great-great-great-grandmother's brother, Alexander Horton, was Aide-de-Camp to General Sam Houston. His brother-in-law, my ggggrandfather, Colonel James Whitis Bulloch, a veteran of the war of 1812, led Texian volunteers who attacked and liberated Nacogdoches 4 years before the fall of the Alamo. This is my father's mother's mother's family.
My mother's mother's people, the Ashworths, fled South Carolina around 1803 to Louisiana. Fled being the operative word here. If I were to speculate as to their reason for abandoning South Carolina where my gggggrandfather, James Ashworth, had received a land grant from the English Crown in 1774, I'd probably guess it had something to do with James showing up in the record books as a Tory serving under British command during the American Revolution. Did you know there were over 100,000 Tory refugees who fled the Southern colonies alone following the American Revolution. That was by boat. Probably a lot more, like my family, just moved West. The new nation was not very forgiving to those who had opposed its quest for independence. There was a lot of revenge taking.
James Ashworth's problem was further complicated by the fact that he was a mixed blood, probably Indian and White, although family lore always claimed our swarthiness came from our "Portygee" roots and our Indian grandmother on the Perkins side of the family. I think the Indian Grandmother of our family mythology was Esther Perkins. In the stories of several of my kindred families, the Indian Grandmother is obviously one single character. In Richard Maxwell Brown's book, The South Carolina Regulators, James Ashwroth is described as dark and swarthy with black hair. It also goes on to say that he had a "t" branded in his hand for "breaking out of jail." Odd choice of letters, but I bet he preferred a simple "t" to "BOOJ."
James married Keziah Dial also of South Carolina. Family tradition says that Keziah was an Indian, but I discount this. That she was part Indian I'm pretty certain, but subtle evidence suggests that Keziah's family (who came to Louisiana with the Ashworths) were White identified. For example, Keziah's mother, Elizabeth Hill Dial, sued her sons for failing to support her after the death of their father. That was the action of someone who considered themselves White.
When the Ashworths left South Carolina, they were all White. By the time of the next census, 1810, over half had become "colored." In another 10 years, they were all "colored." My sister says they all just got darker from working in the fields. Good point, but there was something else going on as well.
In 1803, the South was beginning a downward spiral under the weight of racism and slavery. Slavery was not as heavily a race based system in the 18th century as it became in the 19th century. Despite the fact that its not taught in American history, there was a lot of enslavement of American Indians by the colonists. By 1800, this resulted in a lot of mixed blood populations. Indian and White. White and Black. Indian and Black. Indian and White and Black. The United States has the peculiar history of being about the only former European colony without a significant population of mestizos. You see, as slavery became more and more a Black thing, Southerners became busier and busier making all mixed bloods eligible for slavery by classifying anyone suspected of having Black blood, Black.
James Ashworth, having taken refuge in a Cherokee village in the northwestern part of the state, gathered his family up and moved to Louisiana. In total, about a dozen families joined James in the migration to Louisiana. They settled in Louisiana in an area called "the Neutral Zone." The Americans claimed Louisiana went as far as the Sabine. The Spanish who had just given Louisiana back to the French, claimed the Calcasieu River about 70 miles to the East of the Sabine as the border. The American and Spanish generals facing each other off decided between themselves to avoid war and just let the outlaws have the land between the rivers until it was worked out. The area quickly filled up with mixed-bloods and outlaws. I'm proud to count both amongst my ancestors.
By the early 1830s, these mixed bloods had coalesced into an identifiable subculture in the remote bayous of Louisiana. They had a reputation of being fierce and violent. Don Marler says this was to make them unattractive as candidates for slavery. They were also part of a larger western migration of small, isolated Indian groups and mixed blood groups moving west towards Texas. Word had gotten out that they were welcome in Texas. The Mexicans supposedly wanted a buffer to the Americans.
They were a formidable people: White identified, but not accepted as such by the dominant White culture. An Army of almost 200 men could be made up of first and second cousins. Probably for that reason, no one ever called the Ashworths or their cousins anything but White to their faces, in Texas and Louisiana, until after the Texas Revolution.
After Texas won its independence, it became a Southern nation and eventually state. Our old enemies from South Carolina were not in charge of the government. They immediately started their war against us, calling us "Niggers" and classifying us as Free Blacks. They denied us the bounty lands given to other Texans for their support in the Revolution, saying Blacks couldn't own property. We fought them in courts, we fought them with force. We could form a "posse" of 200 heavily armed first and second cousins in a relative short time.
In February 1839, Texas passed a law which gave mixed bloods now being called Free Blacks, two years to leave the republic, or risk being sold into slavery. By December, after petitions from the leading citizens of Jefferson County, the legislature passed the Ashworth Act, naming my family specifically as excepted from the harsh provisions of the act.
MORE TO COME.
The widow of my father's oldest brother lives on the Sabine River where Nichols Creek empties into it. Her name is Winnie Harden Bridges and she is now 81 years old. I call her Aunt Melvin and have since I was 4. I have no idea why, but I must have been persistent enough for it to stick, and now my siblings and my mother also call her Melvin.
Aunt Melvin is a Roman Catholic. It's an important part of how she sees herself, the world, and everything in between. I think my father was infatuated with her from the first time he met her, shortly before World War II. When he got back from the war, he lived with his oldest brother, Cliff and his new wife, Winnie.
Prior to his being killed in December 1952, my father converted to Catholicism and had all of us children baptised Catholic as well. I can't remember if my mother converted at this time, and neither can she. I've asked. After the death of my father, I lived with my maternal grandmother in East Texas who was a Pentecostal. I cannot bring myself to use the term "holy roller" because it fails to reflect the dignity my grandmother brought to her simple faith.
My grandmother was appalled at the idea that any of her family could embrace Catholicism. Thus began the competition between my Aunt Melvin and my grandmother for my soul which resulted in my being very conflicted about religion from the time I knew there were different churches until I became a Zen Buddhist Jewish Pentecostal Episcopalian several years ago. Suddenly, it all made sense, but that's another story saved for another time.
Anyways, I was talking to my Aunt Melvin and she asks in her simple Bayou drawl, "Raymond, are you going to move back here after you retire?"
"Sugah," says I, "it's hot as hell there most of the time, except when it's freezing. You have every variety of poisonous snake found in North America: rattlesnakes, copperheads, coral snakes and water mocassins. You have not only black widow spiders in abundance, but you also have the deadly brown recluse, and while not deadly, the tarantula is also plentiful. In late summer you have what we called "fuck bugs" that turn the sky black and ruin the finish on your car. Now the are mosquitos, always fierce and abundant, are spreading the West Nile virus. I don't know about you, but I find it disconcerting to see birds dropping dead around you, y'know? Oh, and the fire ants. Deadly fuckers. And wasps. And probably killer bees. And the worsest of them all, the state is populated in large part by redneck assholes. Who else but Texans could be taken in by an upper class, Connecticutt yankee pretending to be a Texan pretending to give a fuck about common people?
But my story is about Texas. The first record of any of my ancestors getting to Texas was a census taken by a Spanish commandante at a camp near what is now Liberty, Texas in 1807. The ancestors from my mother's mother's family, John Aaron Drake, his wife Chastity, and several of their children were among the first American settlers to make it into Texas. They had been in Louisiana for 20 years prior to the excursion into Texas. They went back to Louisiana the following year.
In the early 1830s, the next two branches of my family would enter Texas. One to the north to San Augustine, the other to southeast Texas, to what is now Jefferson and Orange counties.
The part that always amazes me is that they came, they liked the place and they stayed. Well, I don't know how much they liked the place, but they did stay. They made history, in that their story is the story of Texas. They were players, all of them.
My great-great-great-grandmother's brother, Alexander Horton, was Aide-de-Camp to General Sam Houston. His brother-in-law, my ggggrandfather, Colonel James Whitis Bulloch, a veteran of the war of 1812, led Texian volunteers who attacked and liberated Nacogdoches 4 years before the fall of the Alamo. This is my father's mother's mother's family.
My mother's mother's people, the Ashworths, fled South Carolina around 1803 to Louisiana. Fled being the operative word here. If I were to speculate as to their reason for abandoning South Carolina where my gggggrandfather, James Ashworth, had received a land grant from the English Crown in 1774, I'd probably guess it had something to do with James showing up in the record books as a Tory serving under British command during the American Revolution. Did you know there were over 100,000 Tory refugees who fled the Southern colonies alone following the American Revolution. That was by boat. Probably a lot more, like my family, just moved West. The new nation was not very forgiving to those who had opposed its quest for independence. There was a lot of revenge taking.
James Ashworth's problem was further complicated by the fact that he was a mixed blood, probably Indian and White, although family lore always claimed our swarthiness came from our "Portygee" roots and our Indian grandmother on the Perkins side of the family. I think the Indian Grandmother of our family mythology was Esther Perkins. In the stories of several of my kindred families, the Indian Grandmother is obviously one single character. In Richard Maxwell Brown's book, The South Carolina Regulators, James Ashwroth is described as dark and swarthy with black hair. It also goes on to say that he had a "t" branded in his hand for "breaking out of jail." Odd choice of letters, but I bet he preferred a simple "t" to "BOOJ."
James married Keziah Dial also of South Carolina. Family tradition says that Keziah was an Indian, but I discount this. That she was part Indian I'm pretty certain, but subtle evidence suggests that Keziah's family (who came to Louisiana with the Ashworths) were White identified. For example, Keziah's mother, Elizabeth Hill Dial, sued her sons for failing to support her after the death of their father. That was the action of someone who considered themselves White.
When the Ashworths left South Carolina, they were all White. By the time of the next census, 1810, over half had become "colored." In another 10 years, they were all "colored." My sister says they all just got darker from working in the fields. Good point, but there was something else going on as well.
In 1803, the South was beginning a downward spiral under the weight of racism and slavery. Slavery was not as heavily a race based system in the 18th century as it became in the 19th century. Despite the fact that its not taught in American history, there was a lot of enslavement of American Indians by the colonists. By 1800, this resulted in a lot of mixed blood populations. Indian and White. White and Black. Indian and Black. Indian and White and Black. The United States has the peculiar history of being about the only former European colony without a significant population of mestizos. You see, as slavery became more and more a Black thing, Southerners became busier and busier making all mixed bloods eligible for slavery by classifying anyone suspected of having Black blood, Black.
James Ashworth, having taken refuge in a Cherokee village in the northwestern part of the state, gathered his family up and moved to Louisiana. In total, about a dozen families joined James in the migration to Louisiana. They settled in Louisiana in an area called "the Neutral Zone." The Americans claimed Louisiana went as far as the Sabine. The Spanish who had just given Louisiana back to the French, claimed the Calcasieu River about 70 miles to the East of the Sabine as the border. The American and Spanish generals facing each other off decided between themselves to avoid war and just let the outlaws have the land between the rivers until it was worked out. The area quickly filled up with mixed-bloods and outlaws. I'm proud to count both amongst my ancestors.
By the early 1830s, these mixed bloods had coalesced into an identifiable subculture in the remote bayous of Louisiana. They had a reputation of being fierce and violent. Don Marler says this was to make them unattractive as candidates for slavery. They were also part of a larger western migration of small, isolated Indian groups and mixed blood groups moving west towards Texas. Word had gotten out that they were welcome in Texas. The Mexicans supposedly wanted a buffer to the Americans.
They were a formidable people: White identified, but not accepted as such by the dominant White culture. An Army of almost 200 men could be made up of first and second cousins. Probably for that reason, no one ever called the Ashworths or their cousins anything but White to their faces, in Texas and Louisiana, until after the Texas Revolution.
After Texas won its independence, it became a Southern nation and eventually state. Our old enemies from South Carolina were not in charge of the government. They immediately started their war against us, calling us "Niggers" and classifying us as Free Blacks. They denied us the bounty lands given to other Texans for their support in the Revolution, saying Blacks couldn't own property. We fought them in courts, we fought them with force. We could form a "posse" of 200 heavily armed first and second cousins in a relative short time.
In February 1839, Texas passed a law which gave mixed bloods now being called Free Blacks, two years to leave the republic, or risk being sold into slavery. By December, after petitions from the leading citizens of Jefferson County, the legislature passed the Ashworth Act, naming my family specifically as excepted from the harsh provisions of the act.
MORE TO COME.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Let the Circus Begin!
Arnold Schwarzenegger has joined the race for Replacement Governor in the event of the success of the recall against Gray Davis. He joins about one to two hundred others who think they have as good a shot as anyone else. I'm not writing Davis off just yet. As of right now, he gets to run against chaos, and that does give him an edge.
Schwarzenegger hasn't impressed me with an ability to run the state. Maybe if he'd stop being a caricature of himself I'd take him more seriously. He even ended his press conference with a movie line, "I'll be back." The last time we had a governor who thought being governor amounted to delivering old movie lines was Ronald Reagan who is generally considered to have been a disaster as governor. Maybe he was jealous of his actor-buddy, Jesse Ventura who gets to be called Governor Ventura for the rest of his life. I think he'll get bored too easily.
To all of my fellow Californians, let me remind you that you can have it both ways. Vote against the recall and then for whichever clown you like the most. After the election, Gray will go back to work, a little humbler for the experience, the Republicans will cower down for awhile, and stay out of our face while we try to fix our economy and budget woes.
Arnold Schwarzenegger has joined the race for Replacement Governor in the event of the success of the recall against Gray Davis. He joins about one to two hundred others who think they have as good a shot as anyone else. I'm not writing Davis off just yet. As of right now, he gets to run against chaos, and that does give him an edge.
Schwarzenegger hasn't impressed me with an ability to run the state. Maybe if he'd stop being a caricature of himself I'd take him more seriously. He even ended his press conference with a movie line, "I'll be back." The last time we had a governor who thought being governor amounted to delivering old movie lines was Ronald Reagan who is generally considered to have been a disaster as governor. Maybe he was jealous of his actor-buddy, Jesse Ventura who gets to be called Governor Ventura for the rest of his life. I think he'll get bored too easily.
To all of my fellow Californians, let me remind you that you can have it both ways. Vote against the recall and then for whichever clown you like the most. After the election, Gray will go back to work, a little humbler for the experience, the Republicans will cower down for awhile, and stay out of our face while we try to fix our economy and budget woes.
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
On Being a Gay Episcopalian
We have a new bishop, the Right Reverend Gene Robinson of New Hampshire, who has just been approved by the House of Bishops. He seems like an ordinary, caring, faith-filled man who speaks softly and with a voice oozing compassion. See anything wrong with this picture? Oh, he's Gay. Well, holy fucking Mary mother of God. What's this "In Your Face" shit from Gays? How dare they take a place at the table that's been reserved for others? Dave Cullen, a writer living over in Denver, in a piece entitled A Bishop of Our Own makes it personal.
Dave has about 4 or 5 postings on the subject. I incorporate all of his posts with this one Amen. Dave's right, it is important to us, and it is personal.
I do want to comment on the accusation by David Lewis that Bishop Robinson "touched" him inappropriately. First, background to the story summarized by Dave. I have a few questions for Mr. Lewis. First, did you get all tingly when he touched you? Did you get physically stimulated? You seemed quite sure it was inappropriate and amounted to sexual harrassment when you emailed the charge to all of the bishops. Are you the slightest bit worried, Mr. Lewis, that your reaction to the Bishop's touch says more about you than it does the Bishop? Maybe you have some issues about your own sexuality.
Amongst us flamboyant homosexuals, we have noticed that some straight men think that homosexuals everywhere are after them. We laugh at their sexual paranoia, and consider the issue to be more about them than about us. Excuse me, Mr. Lewis, but I saw a picture of you and I've seen pictures of Bishop Robinson. Dude, you're not in his league.
I believe in the spiritual idea that God hides her light from no generation. Those who believe that God hasn't revealed herself to humans since the Bible are too silly for words. Maybe their God is dead and hasn't spoken for two thousand years, but mine lives. She lives in me. She lives in the love I have for my family, my friends, my partner(s). She lives, Mr. Lewis, she lives.
Congratulations, Bishop Robinson. Thanks, Dave for your help in expressing the range of feelings about this subject.
We have a new bishop, the Right Reverend Gene Robinson of New Hampshire, who has just been approved by the House of Bishops. He seems like an ordinary, caring, faith-filled man who speaks softly and with a voice oozing compassion. See anything wrong with this picture? Oh, he's Gay. Well, holy fucking Mary mother of God. What's this "In Your Face" shit from Gays? How dare they take a place at the table that's been reserved for others? Dave Cullen, a writer living over in Denver, in a piece entitled A Bishop of Our Own makes it personal.
Dave has about 4 or 5 postings on the subject. I incorporate all of his posts with this one Amen. Dave's right, it is important to us, and it is personal.
I do want to comment on the accusation by David Lewis that Bishop Robinson "touched" him inappropriately. First, background to the story summarized by Dave. I have a few questions for Mr. Lewis. First, did you get all tingly when he touched you? Did you get physically stimulated? You seemed quite sure it was inappropriate and amounted to sexual harrassment when you emailed the charge to all of the bishops. Are you the slightest bit worried, Mr. Lewis, that your reaction to the Bishop's touch says more about you than it does the Bishop? Maybe you have some issues about your own sexuality.
Amongst us flamboyant homosexuals, we have noticed that some straight men think that homosexuals everywhere are after them. We laugh at their sexual paranoia, and consider the issue to be more about them than about us. Excuse me, Mr. Lewis, but I saw a picture of you and I've seen pictures of Bishop Robinson. Dude, you're not in his league.
I believe in the spiritual idea that God hides her light from no generation. Those who believe that God hasn't revealed herself to humans since the Bible are too silly for words. Maybe their God is dead and hasn't spoken for two thousand years, but mine lives. She lives in me. She lives in the love I have for my family, my friends, my partner(s). She lives, Mr. Lewis, she lives.
Congratulations, Bishop Robinson. Thanks, Dave for your help in expressing the range of feelings about this subject.
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Hurricanes and the Planet Mars
This just off the wire, folks. Okay, not off the wire, but from my blog cousin, Sara, whose blog, Hillbilly Sophisticate, alerts us to a request from Rep. Sheila Lee of Houston that the names chosen for hurricanes include names more common in the Black community. Sara snickers at the whole thing by wondering aloud why names more common to West Virginia aren't used.
And just in case Hurricane Kinesha isn't obscuring your view of the sky, comes word that Mars will be the closest to the earth as it has been in recorded history, and may not be this close again for another 60,000 years. Whoa! This is from my cousin who raises horses somewhere in New Mexico. Want to see some pretty horses? Visit Victoria and check out her Tiger Horses. I'll quote her email to me since she didn't provide a link:
"The encounter will culminate on August 27th when Mars comes to within 34,649,589 miles of Earth and will be (next to the moon) the brightest object in the night sky. It will attain a magnitude of -2.9 and will appear 25.11 arc seconds wide. At a modest 75-power magnification Mars will look as large as the full moon to the naked eye. Mars will be easy to spot. At the beginning of August it will rise in the East at 10 p.m. and reach its azimuth at about 3 a.m. By the end of August when the two planets are closest, Mars will rise at
nightfall and reach its highest point in the sky at 12:30a.m. That's pretty convenient to see something that no human being has seen in recorded history."
Be there or be square.
This just off the wire, folks. Okay, not off the wire, but from my blog cousin, Sara, whose blog, Hillbilly Sophisticate, alerts us to a request from Rep. Sheila Lee of Houston that the names chosen for hurricanes include names more common in the Black community. Sara snickers at the whole thing by wondering aloud why names more common to West Virginia aren't used.
And just in case Hurricane Kinesha isn't obscuring your view of the sky, comes word that Mars will be the closest to the earth as it has been in recorded history, and may not be this close again for another 60,000 years. Whoa! This is from my cousin who raises horses somewhere in New Mexico. Want to see some pretty horses? Visit Victoria and check out her Tiger Horses. I'll quote her email to me since she didn't provide a link:
"The encounter will culminate on August 27th when Mars comes to within 34,649,589 miles of Earth and will be (next to the moon) the brightest object in the night sky. It will attain a magnitude of -2.9 and will appear 25.11 arc seconds wide. At a modest 75-power magnification Mars will look as large as the full moon to the naked eye. Mars will be easy to spot. At the beginning of August it will rise in the East at 10 p.m. and reach its azimuth at about 3 a.m. By the end of August when the two planets are closest, Mars will rise at
nightfall and reach its highest point in the sky at 12:30a.m. That's pretty convenient to see something that no human being has seen in recorded history."
Be there or be square.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Cooking Gumbo
I was at the Famers Market this morning and bought half a pound of the prettiest okra.
I like okra. Not everyone does. Last summer the French kids were over and they fought for the okra cooked in the crowder peas. It impressed the hell out of me. But I'm digressing. I'm talking about gumbo, not French kids and not okra.
For three years now I've donated a gumbo cooking lesson for 4 to the San Francisco Choral Society. It's a huge success. For me, it's a chance to be the center of attention and share a tradition given to me by the women of my family and community from when I was growing up. Although I ate a lot of good gumbo at my grandmother's table, it was Hilda Roberts Marioneaux, a neighbor, who taught me to cook gumbo.
Okra is used in gumbo to thicken the broth. The alternative to okra is file, which is ground sassafras leaves. Bet you didn't know that. Most of the time, I cook gumbo I use file, but this okra was too pretty and I decided I was going to do a chicken and andouille gumbo with okra.
First you make a roux. Using about half a cup of oil and a half a cup of flour, begin stirring in a large cast iron skillet. Does it have to be cast iron? Yes, now hush. Cook the roux slowly, taking your time. We don't want to burn the roux. Used to, I'd get ready to make my roux by freshening up my drink and calling my cousin Sue on the phone.
When the roux is dark brown, and I do mean dark, as dark as brackish swamp water, I add about a cup each of chopped onions, bell pepper and celery. My aunt Winnie calls this the "holy trinity." It with the roux is the basis of 90 percent of Louisiana cooking. Personally, I like the taste of garlic, so I ad about 4 or 5 cloves of chopped garlic and cook it with the rest of the holy trinity.
After about 15 to 20 minutes of cooking the vegetables (I'm calling the holy trinity and the garlic vegetables, so y'all stay with me here), I add about a cup or so (this isn't rocket science) of sliced okra, and continue to cook until the okra is hot, then I add my vegetables to a large soup pot of heated chicken broth (approximately 4 cans). Now, I live in the city, work full time, and have a very busy social schedule, so yes, I use canned chicken broth. If you've got more time than me, make the shit yourself. I don't have time.
At this point, you add the chicken and the sasage, which you have previously sauteed a bit. When I was growing up, the chicken might have been pecking in the yard a couple of hours before I started the gumbo, but see the above paragraph about living in the city and being busy, so now I buy chicken parts. Quick and easy. I especially am fond of chicken thighs. Make it easy on yourself and buy 3 or 4 pounds of chicken thighs, season them, dredge in flour, and saute for a few minutes and they're ready to add to the gumbo. Prepare the sausage by cutting it up into bite sized pieces and searing before adding to the gumbo.
SECRET INGREDIENT: I add about a spoonful of liquid crab boil after everything is in the gumbo. Not more than that 'cause it's hot, very hot. Just about a spoonful.
At this point, everything is in the gumbo. Cook it for about an hour and let it sit for awhile. If I'm doing a dinner party, this is all done in the afternoon. Then I take my nap. Naps are very important. About the time your company arrives, put the rice on to cook (this takes 20 to 30 minutes), and put the gumbo back on the fire at a low heat and bring to its serving temperature.
When the rice is done, we're ready to eat. What kind of bread, you ask? Well, if you're going to be traditional, throw a slice of white bread at them. I prefer to be fancy and will often serve a hot baguette if I haven't had time to make cornbread. My people are bayou people, without pretention to being French. We're a lot more likely to serve cornbread than store bought bread, but you do what you want. Bread don't matter. This is about the gumbo.
Bon appetit!
(Note: Gumbo is a soup made in Louisiana and East Texas made from vegetables and meat (such as chicken, or seafood, and is thickened with okra or file powder). (That's pronounced fi'lay. Please bear with me since I can't figure out how to do an accent aigu on my blog.) It's one of those "culturally defining" dishes of the French in Louisiana, like chicken soup is to Jewish cooking, or haggis is to the Scots.)
I was at the Famers Market this morning and bought half a pound of the prettiest okra.
I like okra. Not everyone does. Last summer the French kids were over and they fought for the okra cooked in the crowder peas. It impressed the hell out of me. But I'm digressing. I'm talking about gumbo, not French kids and not okra.
For three years now I've donated a gumbo cooking lesson for 4 to the San Francisco Choral Society. It's a huge success. For me, it's a chance to be the center of attention and share a tradition given to me by the women of my family and community from when I was growing up. Although I ate a lot of good gumbo at my grandmother's table, it was Hilda Roberts Marioneaux, a neighbor, who taught me to cook gumbo.
Okra is used in gumbo to thicken the broth. The alternative to okra is file, which is ground sassafras leaves. Bet you didn't know that. Most of the time, I cook gumbo I use file, but this okra was too pretty and I decided I was going to do a chicken and andouille gumbo with okra.
First you make a roux. Using about half a cup of oil and a half a cup of flour, begin stirring in a large cast iron skillet. Does it have to be cast iron? Yes, now hush. Cook the roux slowly, taking your time. We don't want to burn the roux. Used to, I'd get ready to make my roux by freshening up my drink and calling my cousin Sue on the phone.
When the roux is dark brown, and I do mean dark, as dark as brackish swamp water, I add about a cup each of chopped onions, bell pepper and celery. My aunt Winnie calls this the "holy trinity." It with the roux is the basis of 90 percent of Louisiana cooking. Personally, I like the taste of garlic, so I ad about 4 or 5 cloves of chopped garlic and cook it with the rest of the holy trinity.
After about 15 to 20 minutes of cooking the vegetables (I'm calling the holy trinity and the garlic vegetables, so y'all stay with me here), I add about a cup or so (this isn't rocket science) of sliced okra, and continue to cook until the okra is hot, then I add my vegetables to a large soup pot of heated chicken broth (approximately 4 cans). Now, I live in the city, work full time, and have a very busy social schedule, so yes, I use canned chicken broth. If you've got more time than me, make the shit yourself. I don't have time.
At this point, you add the chicken and the sasage, which you have previously sauteed a bit. When I was growing up, the chicken might have been pecking in the yard a couple of hours before I started the gumbo, but see the above paragraph about living in the city and being busy, so now I buy chicken parts. Quick and easy. I especially am fond of chicken thighs. Make it easy on yourself and buy 3 or 4 pounds of chicken thighs, season them, dredge in flour, and saute for a few minutes and they're ready to add to the gumbo. Prepare the sausage by cutting it up into bite sized pieces and searing before adding to the gumbo.
SECRET INGREDIENT: I add about a spoonful of liquid crab boil after everything is in the gumbo. Not more than that 'cause it's hot, very hot. Just about a spoonful.
At this point, everything is in the gumbo. Cook it for about an hour and let it sit for awhile. If I'm doing a dinner party, this is all done in the afternoon. Then I take my nap. Naps are very important. About the time your company arrives, put the rice on to cook (this takes 20 to 30 minutes), and put the gumbo back on the fire at a low heat and bring to its serving temperature.
When the rice is done, we're ready to eat. What kind of bread, you ask? Well, if you're going to be traditional, throw a slice of white bread at them. I prefer to be fancy and will often serve a hot baguette if I haven't had time to make cornbread. My people are bayou people, without pretention to being French. We're a lot more likely to serve cornbread than store bought bread, but you do what you want. Bread don't matter. This is about the gumbo.
Bon appetit!
(Note: Gumbo is a soup made in Louisiana and East Texas made from vegetables and meat (such as chicken, or seafood, and is thickened with okra or file powder). (That's pronounced fi'lay. Please bear with me since I can't figure out how to do an accent aigu on my blog.) It's one of those "culturally defining" dishes of the French in Louisiana, like chicken soup is to Jewish cooking, or haggis is to the Scots.)
Determining Priorities
I'm with this guy. I'm copying rather than linking because that's all I can do. I just want him to get the credit for highlighting an important point that no one seems to have raised. It is about priorities.
"Guns vs. Butter, or Children vs. Seniors.
"So we're gonna hand $400 freakin' BILLION dollars of cash to drug companies, as a freebie to seniors. Is this really and truly the best way that we could be spending our health dollars? Is this the single most effective place, in terms of return on investment? Let's rephrase the question: Exactly how far would $400 freakin' BILLION go when it comes to insuring the uninsured children of this country? As hard as I might, I just can't seem to find a scenario under which I'm more sympathetic to a senior citizen, living in his own home, driving his cadillac to the doctor four times a week because of aching back, than I am sympathetic to the child of a poor single mom somewhere in an inner city...where a tiny fraction of that drug money can save a life or provide the regular medical care that is so important in a young life.
"Where does the AARP get off, exactly? Let's call this what it is: A gigantic giveaway to the drug companies. We're just going to take out a huge debt and hand the slip to them. We'll say to them, "Come up with the most expensive drugs you possibly can! Do it now!".
"You can BET on the fact that drugs are going to get more expensive. Why? Because as these drugs are directly marketed to senior citizens through the airwaves, they'll be going to their doctors and demanding these medications, which will now be covered under these stupid programs; drugs companies know this, and will raise prices, knowing they're gonna get paid. And as the population continues to age, this voting block gets stronger and stronger, wants more and more under these programs, and will finally succeed in burying a younger generation under the weight of their parents' greed."
All I can say is amen.
I'm with this guy. I'm copying rather than linking because that's all I can do. I just want him to get the credit for highlighting an important point that no one seems to have raised. It is about priorities.
"Guns vs. Butter, or Children vs. Seniors.
"So we're gonna hand $400 freakin' BILLION dollars of cash to drug companies, as a freebie to seniors. Is this really and truly the best way that we could be spending our health dollars? Is this the single most effective place, in terms of return on investment? Let's rephrase the question: Exactly how far would $400 freakin' BILLION go when it comes to insuring the uninsured children of this country? As hard as I might, I just can't seem to find a scenario under which I'm more sympathetic to a senior citizen, living in his own home, driving his cadillac to the doctor four times a week because of aching back, than I am sympathetic to the child of a poor single mom somewhere in an inner city...where a tiny fraction of that drug money can save a life or provide the regular medical care that is so important in a young life.
"Where does the AARP get off, exactly? Let's call this what it is: A gigantic giveaway to the drug companies. We're just going to take out a huge debt and hand the slip to them. We'll say to them, "Come up with the most expensive drugs you possibly can! Do it now!".
"You can BET on the fact that drugs are going to get more expensive. Why? Because as these drugs are directly marketed to senior citizens through the airwaves, they'll be going to their doctors and demanding these medications, which will now be covered under these stupid programs; drugs companies know this, and will raise prices, knowing they're gonna get paid. And as the population continues to age, this voting block gets stronger and stronger, wants more and more under these programs, and will finally succeed in burying a younger generation under the weight of their parents' greed."
All I can say is amen.
Friday, August 01, 2003
Bless Your Heart
This appeared in the blogosphere half a dozen or so years ago. It bears repeating. Anyone knows the author of this piece, let me know. She has a fan.
Bless Your Heart
Someone once noted that a Southerner can get away with the most awful kind of insult just as long as it's prefaced with the words, "Bless her heart" or 'Bless his heart." As in, "Bless his heart, if they put his brain on the head of a pin, it'd roll around like a BB on a six-lane highway." Or, "Bless her heart, she's so bucktoothed, she could eat an apple through a picket fence."
There are also the sneakier ones that I remember from tongue-clucking types of my childhood: "You know, it's amazing that even though she had that baby seven months after they got married, bless her heart, it weighed 10 pounds!"
As long as the heart is sufficiently blessed, the insult can't be all that bad, at least that's what my Great-aunt Tiny (bless her heart, she was anything but) used to say. I was thinking about this the other day when a friend was telling me about her new Northern friend who was upset because her toddler is just beginning to talk and he has a Southern accent. My friend, who is very kind and, bless her heart, cannot do a thing about those thighs of hers, so don't even start, was justifiably miffed about this. After all, this woman had CHOSEN to move south a couple of years ago "Can you believe it?" she said to my friend. "A child of mine is going to be taaaallllkkin' a-liiiike thiiiissss."
I can think of far worse fates than speaking Southern for this adorable little boy, who, bless his heart, must surely be the East Coast king of mucus. I wish I'd been there. I would have said that she shouldn't fret, because there is nothing so sweet or pleasing on the ear as a soft, Southern drawl. Of course, maybe we shouldn't be surprised at her "carryings on." After all, when you come from a part of the world where "family silver" refers to the large medallion around Uncle Vinnie's neck, you just have to, as aunt Tiny would say, "consider the source."
Now don't get me wrong. Some of my dearest friends are from the North, bless their hearts. I welcome their perspective, their friendships and their recipes for authentic Northern Italian food. I've even gotten past their endless complaints that you can't find good bread down here. The ones who really gore my ox are the native Southerners who have begun to act almost embarrassed about their speech. It's as if they want to bury it in the "Hee Haw" cornfield. We've already lost too much.
I was raised to sware, not swear, but you hardly ever hear anyone say that anymore, I sware you don't. And I've caught myself thinking twice before saying something is "right much," "right close" or "right good" because non-natives think this is right funny indeed. I have a friend from Bawston who thinks it's hilarious when I say I've got to "carry" my daughter to the doctor or "cut off"" the light. That's OK. It's when you have to explain things to people who were born here that I get mad as a mule eating bumblebees.
Not long ago, I found myself trying to explain to a native Southerner what I meant by being "in the short rows." I'm used to explaining that expression (it means you've worked a right smart but you're almost done) to newcomers to the land of buttermilk and cold collard sandwiches (better than you think), but to have to explain it to a Southerner was just plain weird.
The most grating example is found in restaurants and stores where nice, Magnolia-mouthed clerks now say "you guys" instead of "y'all," as their mamas raised them up to say. I'd sooner wear white shoes in February, drink unsweetened tea, and eat Miracle Whip instead of Duke's than utter the words, "you guys." Not long ago, I went to lunch with four women friends, and the waiter, a nice Southern boy, you-guys-ed all of us within an inch of our lives. "You guys ready to order? What can I get for you guys? Would you guys like to keep you guys' forks?"
Lord, have mercy. It's a little comforting that, at the very same time some natives are so eager to blend in, they've taken to making microwave grits (an abomination), the rest of the world is catching on that it's cool to be Clampett. How else do you explain NASCAR tracks and Krispy Kreme doughnut franchises springing up like yard onions all over the country?
To those of you who're still a little embarrassed by your Southernness, take two tent revivals and a dose of redeye gravy and call me in the morning.
Bless your heart.
This appeared in the blogosphere half a dozen or so years ago. It bears repeating. Anyone knows the author of this piece, let me know. She has a fan.
Bless Your Heart
Someone once noted that a Southerner can get away with the most awful kind of insult just as long as it's prefaced with the words, "Bless her heart" or 'Bless his heart." As in, "Bless his heart, if they put his brain on the head of a pin, it'd roll around like a BB on a six-lane highway." Or, "Bless her heart, she's so bucktoothed, she could eat an apple through a picket fence."
There are also the sneakier ones that I remember from tongue-clucking types of my childhood: "You know, it's amazing that even though she had that baby seven months after they got married, bless her heart, it weighed 10 pounds!"
As long as the heart is sufficiently blessed, the insult can't be all that bad, at least that's what my Great-aunt Tiny (bless her heart, she was anything but) used to say. I was thinking about this the other day when a friend was telling me about her new Northern friend who was upset because her toddler is just beginning to talk and he has a Southern accent. My friend, who is very kind and, bless her heart, cannot do a thing about those thighs of hers, so don't even start, was justifiably miffed about this. After all, this woman had CHOSEN to move south a couple of years ago "Can you believe it?" she said to my friend. "A child of mine is going to be taaaallllkkin' a-liiiike thiiiissss."
I can think of far worse fates than speaking Southern for this adorable little boy, who, bless his heart, must surely be the East Coast king of mucus. I wish I'd been there. I would have said that she shouldn't fret, because there is nothing so sweet or pleasing on the ear as a soft, Southern drawl. Of course, maybe we shouldn't be surprised at her "carryings on." After all, when you come from a part of the world where "family silver" refers to the large medallion around Uncle Vinnie's neck, you just have to, as aunt Tiny would say, "consider the source."
Now don't get me wrong. Some of my dearest friends are from the North, bless their hearts. I welcome their perspective, their friendships and their recipes for authentic Northern Italian food. I've even gotten past their endless complaints that you can't find good bread down here. The ones who really gore my ox are the native Southerners who have begun to act almost embarrassed about their speech. It's as if they want to bury it in the "Hee Haw" cornfield. We've already lost too much.
I was raised to sware, not swear, but you hardly ever hear anyone say that anymore, I sware you don't. And I've caught myself thinking twice before saying something is "right much," "right close" or "right good" because non-natives think this is right funny indeed. I have a friend from Bawston who thinks it's hilarious when I say I've got to "carry" my daughter to the doctor or "cut off"" the light. That's OK. It's when you have to explain things to people who were born here that I get mad as a mule eating bumblebees.
Not long ago, I found myself trying to explain to a native Southerner what I meant by being "in the short rows." I'm used to explaining that expression (it means you've worked a right smart but you're almost done) to newcomers to the land of buttermilk and cold collard sandwiches (better than you think), but to have to explain it to a Southerner was just plain weird.
The most grating example is found in restaurants and stores where nice, Magnolia-mouthed clerks now say "you guys" instead of "y'all," as their mamas raised them up to say. I'd sooner wear white shoes in February, drink unsweetened tea, and eat Miracle Whip instead of Duke's than utter the words, "you guys." Not long ago, I went to lunch with four women friends, and the waiter, a nice Southern boy, you-guys-ed all of us within an inch of our lives. "You guys ready to order? What can I get for you guys? Would you guys like to keep you guys' forks?"
Lord, have mercy. It's a little comforting that, at the very same time some natives are so eager to blend in, they've taken to making microwave grits (an abomination), the rest of the world is catching on that it's cool to be Clampett. How else do you explain NASCAR tracks and Krispy Kreme doughnut franchises springing up like yard onions all over the country?
To those of you who're still a little embarrassed by your Southernness, take two tent revivals and a dose of redeye gravy and call me in the morning.
Bless your heart.
Why do some men name their penis?
I've called mine names (like, opportunistic), but I've never like, given it a name. Do women name their vaginas? I think not. Okay, now that we know men do, here is a list of the 50 worst names you can choose.
I've called mine names (like, opportunistic), but I've never like, given it a name. Do women name their vaginas? I think not. Okay, now that we know men do, here is a list of the 50 worst names you can choose.
Hepburn and Tracy, NOT!
I'd like to say I don't watch much tv, but that's not exactly true. I don't pay attention to a lot of tv, but I watch it more than I have time for, and the only part of tv that interests me is news about people, i.e., gossip.
Now because I watch it peripherally, I see different aspects of it, and miss others all together. I mention all of this as a background for my next topic, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez. All I know about either is what I've gleaned from tv gossip, advertisements, and information I think I pick up from the commentators on the morning entertaining news shows. I think Ben Affleck must be one of the smartest young newcomers to hit Hollywood in a generation or so. Notice I didn't say he could act. Doesn't matter. He's cute. He comes across as nice. His friends are nice. He may be as mean and nasty as Joan Crawford, but he's got a clean image. Ms. Lopez has come from a different direction. For all her talent and determination, she's mentioned as much for the men whose company she has kept as for her own skills and talents.
Her greatest skill so far has been looking out for the JLo phenomenon. She's going strong. Same for Ben. He's going strong. They have one shared strength: the camera likes them.
Still can't act. Either of them. She better than he, but that doesn't make her good or even close to good.
About a year or so ago, I heard that Ben and Jennifer had obtained the rights to remake Casablanca. Oh my God, I thought. Is nothing sacred?
Okay, that was a silly question, but I shuddered at what I imagined their updated and "cool" version of Casablanca would be like. If it's anything like this, there oughttabe a law. Apparently others dislike the new movie also.
I certainly wish Ben and Jennifer the best. If they do a porno flick, I'll buy it in a minute. But they can't act. Their problem is they have too much power, and they think they're smater than they really are. People like them need to let directors, writers and producers be in charge. A good director can make a mediocre actor look good. A good writer can give cute people actual words to say to give their beauty context. And a good producer can . . . well do whatever producers do better than someone who's done what they've done so far because they're cute. If they need a warning example, I give them Kevin Costner and Barbra Streisand. (Hasn't her decline into mediocrity been sad?)
Meanwhile, Ben, Jennifer, please leave Casablanca alone. Oh, and leave those other Hepburn and Tracy movies alone, too. I don't care how cute the two of you are together, you can't act. I feel bad for you about that, but heck, you're rich and beautiful, ain't that enough?
Oh well, there goes my invitation to the wedding.
I'd like to say I don't watch much tv, but that's not exactly true. I don't pay attention to a lot of tv, but I watch it more than I have time for, and the only part of tv that interests me is news about people, i.e., gossip.
Now because I watch it peripherally, I see different aspects of it, and miss others all together. I mention all of this as a background for my next topic, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez. All I know about either is what I've gleaned from tv gossip, advertisements, and information I think I pick up from the commentators on the morning entertaining news shows. I think Ben Affleck must be one of the smartest young newcomers to hit Hollywood in a generation or so. Notice I didn't say he could act. Doesn't matter. He's cute. He comes across as nice. His friends are nice. He may be as mean and nasty as Joan Crawford, but he's got a clean image. Ms. Lopez has come from a different direction. For all her talent and determination, she's mentioned as much for the men whose company she has kept as for her own skills and talents.
Her greatest skill so far has been looking out for the JLo phenomenon. She's going strong. Same for Ben. He's going strong. They have one shared strength: the camera likes them.
Still can't act. Either of them. She better than he, but that doesn't make her good or even close to good.
About a year or so ago, I heard that Ben and Jennifer had obtained the rights to remake Casablanca. Oh my God, I thought. Is nothing sacred?
Okay, that was a silly question, but I shuddered at what I imagined their updated and "cool" version of Casablanca would be like. If it's anything like this, there oughttabe a law. Apparently others dislike the new movie also.
I certainly wish Ben and Jennifer the best. If they do a porno flick, I'll buy it in a minute. But they can't act. Their problem is they have too much power, and they think they're smater than they really are. People like them need to let directors, writers and producers be in charge. A good director can make a mediocre actor look good. A good writer can give cute people actual words to say to give their beauty context. And a good producer can . . . well do whatever producers do better than someone who's done what they've done so far because they're cute. If they need a warning example, I give them Kevin Costner and Barbra Streisand. (Hasn't her decline into mediocrity been sad?)
Meanwhile, Ben, Jennifer, please leave Casablanca alone. Oh, and leave those other Hepburn and Tracy movies alone, too. I don't care how cute the two of you are together, you can't act. I feel bad for you about that, but heck, you're rich and beautiful, ain't that enough?
Oh well, there goes my invitation to the wedding.
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
POTUS News Conference
Tried to watch it. Irritated by the press. Why wasn't this question asked: " did you wretchet up the talk about nuclear weapons development in order to show the inevitability of the conflict with Iraq?" Of course he's going to take responsibility for his words. That was the easy question. Why wasn't he asked about the implication that we were misled as to the seriousness of the Iraqi threat? Fucker got a free ride today.
And what was that rambling shit about Gay marriages? There's already a controlling federal law, the Defense of Marriage Act, signed by good ol' boy, Clinton himself. If I were Gay, why . . . why nothing.
I edited this post. I guess it took a few minutes for all that crap about the sanctity of marriage and "we're all sinners" shit to sink in. Screw him. I'm not interested in his simplistic understanding of religion and morality. If you think I'm mad at the s.o.b., this guy's even madder.
Despite Andrew Sullivan's total capitulation to the religious right, I don't think the constitutional amenment thing is going anywhere. I can't imagine the great majority of Americans are willing to let the religious conservatives foul the Constitution with their crap. At least I hope not.
Tried to watch it. Irritated by the press. Why wasn't this question asked: " did you wretchet up the talk about nuclear weapons development in order to show the inevitability of the conflict with Iraq?" Of course he's going to take responsibility for his words. That was the easy question. Why wasn't he asked about the implication that we were misled as to the seriousness of the Iraqi threat? Fucker got a free ride today.
And what was that rambling shit about Gay marriages? There's already a controlling federal law, the Defense of Marriage Act, signed by good ol' boy, Clinton himself. If I were Gay, why . . . why nothing.
I edited this post. I guess it took a few minutes for all that crap about the sanctity of marriage and "we're all sinners" shit to sink in. Screw him. I'm not interested in his simplistic understanding of religion and morality. If you think I'm mad at the s.o.b., this guy's even madder.
Despite Andrew Sullivan's total capitulation to the religious right, I don't think the constitutional amenment thing is going anywhere. I can't imagine the great majority of Americans are willing to let the religious conservatives foul the Constitution with their crap. At least I hope not.
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
Damn, what a fine sunset!
It was only one color, sort of a pinkish salmon that was on fire! Think Maxfield Parrish, at least the sky part.
You need clouds to get the full range of sunset colors. I lived half a dozen or so years in Alaska, and all sunsets and sunrises in my life now are measured against that rule. Man! What a place. The cycle much of the year is ...the sun rises in the north, coming in at a gradual angle breaking the light into that prism that gives our eye the most color. The sun rises, does sort of a "U" pass, setting a dozen plus hours later in the north, the same direction from which it rose. Did I say "set"? It dips below the horizon, with the horizon lit by it's bent rays which create so much color. So sunset lasts a couple of hours when you realize that there has been a subtle change in the colors and now sunset is sunrise. It's a different energy.
But tonight's sunset from Oakland was pretty good.
It was only one color, sort of a pinkish salmon that was on fire! Think Maxfield Parrish, at least the sky part.
You need clouds to get the full range of sunset colors. I lived half a dozen or so years in Alaska, and all sunsets and sunrises in my life now are measured against that rule. Man! What a place. The cycle much of the year is ...the sun rises in the north, coming in at a gradual angle breaking the light into that prism that gives our eye the most color. The sun rises, does sort of a "U" pass, setting a dozen plus hours later in the north, the same direction from which it rose. Did I say "set"? It dips below the horizon, with the horizon lit by it's bent rays which create so much color. So sunset lasts a couple of hours when you realize that there has been a subtle change in the colors and now sunset is sunrise. It's a different energy.
But tonight's sunset from Oakland was pretty good.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Was It About the Oil?
Have to ask the question. Was the Iraq war about oil? I've always said no. I've repeatedly laughed and ridiculed my "no war no way" friends on the Left out here in California. Saddam was a mean and dangerous sonofabitch. I agreed with the Administration when they said we don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud over an American city. They had been caught with their pants down on 9/11, and by god, they'd err on the side of caution in the future. And Saddam has fucking nukes! The President said so, the Vice President said so, and Donald Rumsfeld said so.
So now, this conservative group called Judicial Watch sued Cheney for the notes from his secret meeting of energy company officials back in 2000, 2001 and won. The administration stonewalls releasing the minutes right to the last minute. Meanwhile, Enron goes bankrupt, California faces record deficits and a recall, partly because of the energy crisis of a couple of years back. Man, there's a lot of related shit coming down, all kin to Cheney's group's meeting. The surprise in the minutes, however, is not the manipulation of the energy crisis by Enron and the rest of George's friends, but that they had studied maps of Iraq and had indeed discussed the value of Iraq, especially controlled by the U.S. Am I the only one who wants this better explained? This is from Wampum, my newest addition to my blog roll. I'm learning about her. She writes about autism, Amerindian issues, politics, and probably a lot of other stuff. Hell, I don't even know her name, but I know some of her ideas and several of her opinions, and you know, it's a good start.
Cheers,
Have to ask the question. Was the Iraq war about oil? I've always said no. I've repeatedly laughed and ridiculed my "no war no way" friends on the Left out here in California. Saddam was a mean and dangerous sonofabitch. I agreed with the Administration when they said we don't want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud over an American city. They had been caught with their pants down on 9/11, and by god, they'd err on the side of caution in the future. And Saddam has fucking nukes! The President said so, the Vice President said so, and Donald Rumsfeld said so.
So now, this conservative group called Judicial Watch sued Cheney for the notes from his secret meeting of energy company officials back in 2000, 2001 and won. The administration stonewalls releasing the minutes right to the last minute. Meanwhile, Enron goes bankrupt, California faces record deficits and a recall, partly because of the energy crisis of a couple of years back. Man, there's a lot of related shit coming down, all kin to Cheney's group's meeting. The surprise in the minutes, however, is not the manipulation of the energy crisis by Enron and the rest of George's friends, but that they had studied maps of Iraq and had indeed discussed the value of Iraq, especially controlled by the U.S. Am I the only one who wants this better explained? This is from Wampum, my newest addition to my blog roll. I'm learning about her. She writes about autism, Amerindian issues, politics, and probably a lot of other stuff. Hell, I don't even know her name, but I know some of her ideas and several of her opinions, and you know, it's a good start.
Cheers,
For my Neice upon her graduation from High School
I wrote this back in May and intended to post it then. Better late than never.
June, 2003
Dear Megan,
I think it’s traditional to write a real sappy letter full of good wishes, expressed hopes, reminders of shared experiences. That has not been our relationship. If I pretended it were so now, my letter to you would mean little.
Despite our lack of closeness, I have watched you grow up through the eyes of your mother and grandmother. If you were to measure your wealth in terms of their love, you’d be a multi-billionaire.
Besides my well wishes for your success in life, I offer these tidbits of wisdom that have served me well over the years. Take them as you would all unsolicited offers of advice, with a little salt.
Do what you love, the money will follow. You’re going to have to work for the better part of your life. Seek a career that gives you joy. It will energize you more completely than money ever will.
Be good to your mother. You’ll never appreciate how much she’s done for you over the years until you have children of your own. Ditto in regards to your grandmother. You come from a remarkable line of tough and powerful women. The path you choose will be your own. However, you reached that path having been lifted by the love of many incredible women over many generations.
Go, do well, and be proud.
I wrote this back in May and intended to post it then. Better late than never.
June, 2003
Dear Megan,
I think it’s traditional to write a real sappy letter full of good wishes, expressed hopes, reminders of shared experiences. That has not been our relationship. If I pretended it were so now, my letter to you would mean little.
Despite our lack of closeness, I have watched you grow up through the eyes of your mother and grandmother. If you were to measure your wealth in terms of their love, you’d be a multi-billionaire.
Besides my well wishes for your success in life, I offer these tidbits of wisdom that have served me well over the years. Take them as you would all unsolicited offers of advice, with a little salt.
Do what you love, the money will follow. You’re going to have to work for the better part of your life. Seek a career that gives you joy. It will energize you more completely than money ever will.
Be good to your mother. You’ll never appreciate how much she’s done for you over the years until you have children of your own. Ditto in regards to your grandmother. You come from a remarkable line of tough and powerful women. The path you choose will be your own. However, you reached that path having been lifted by the love of many incredible women over many generations.
Go, do well, and be proud.
Thinking about the Budget and the Recall
First, a disclaimer. I work for the state of California. My salary is going to be affected by whatever budget or lack of budget occurs. I am probably harmed more by the lack of budget than by any specific budget that may be adopted. That is the prism by which I see this issue.
I am more than just a little bit annoyed at both the Democrats and the Republicans. They are at war with each other and see any compromise as defeat. A pox on both their houses. If I followed their example, every time I got into an argument, I'd just punch the guy's lights out.
I worry whether or not Gov. Davis is in any position to provide any leadership in this mess. He's about to face a recall. He has no popular support to speak of, and he's going into the recall election with the state being brought to its knees by an incredible deficit which he is now accused of hiding (at the worst) or of not seeing it coming. Either charge if correct is enough to recall him.
Can he survive the recall vote? That's a tough call right now. I haven't decided how I intend to vote. I dislike Davis immensely. I dislike how he substituted his judgment for the Parole Board and kept Robert Rosencrantz in prison. I dislike how he "fixed" the energy crisis we had several years ago. I dislike how the only thing of importance to him between his first election and his second was raising money. I dislike how he said that the judges and justices he would appoint were there to implement his vision. God, what arrogance. I dislike how he spent his money to discredit the better Republican candidate. I dislike how his campaign made scurrilous charges against Bill Simon, his Republican opponent.
If the only Republican name on the ballot were Darrell Issa (the Republican Congressman who bankrolled the recall), I'd probably vote the retain Davis. If Tom Delay (the Republican Majority Leader of the House) were the only Republican on the ballot, I'd probably vote to retain Davis. However, the field of candidates promises to be much more interesting than that. The likelihood of Davis being replaced by a clown such as Arnold Swarzennegger delights me. For one, he'll be more interesting and sure as hell won't be any worse than Davis. He won't consider the "other side" to be evil. He will be able to talk to both sides in our political debate. Of course, Arnold is a longshot. More likely we'll get one of the Republican's True Believers and the holy war will continue.
Davis should resign and let Bustamonte be the sitting governor. The recall will continue, but it'll fail because the recall is about Davis, not Democrat hegemony over Republicans. Bustamonte's profile will be much higher and generally more positive than any of the Republicans seeking to overturn Davis. The coup fails.
But what about the budget? Do we do nothing for the next six to nine months? Republicans insist on cutting both the size and cost of government. In the five years of Gray Davis, the budget has grown astronomically. Republicans are insisting that the budget be balanced through spending cuts. Is it unreasonable? Probably. Can they pull it off? Possibly. Do I want them to? Harder question. But I can tell you one thing for certain. I don't care for the process we have in place. We seem to have a dictatorship of the minority. That's plain wrong.
First, a disclaimer. I work for the state of California. My salary is going to be affected by whatever budget or lack of budget occurs. I am probably harmed more by the lack of budget than by any specific budget that may be adopted. That is the prism by which I see this issue.
I am more than just a little bit annoyed at both the Democrats and the Republicans. They are at war with each other and see any compromise as defeat. A pox on both their houses. If I followed their example, every time I got into an argument, I'd just punch the guy's lights out.
I worry whether or not Gov. Davis is in any position to provide any leadership in this mess. He's about to face a recall. He has no popular support to speak of, and he's going into the recall election with the state being brought to its knees by an incredible deficit which he is now accused of hiding (at the worst) or of not seeing it coming. Either charge if correct is enough to recall him.
Can he survive the recall vote? That's a tough call right now. I haven't decided how I intend to vote. I dislike Davis immensely. I dislike how he substituted his judgment for the Parole Board and kept Robert Rosencrantz in prison. I dislike how he "fixed" the energy crisis we had several years ago. I dislike how the only thing of importance to him between his first election and his second was raising money. I dislike how he said that the judges and justices he would appoint were there to implement his vision. God, what arrogance. I dislike how he spent his money to discredit the better Republican candidate. I dislike how his campaign made scurrilous charges against Bill Simon, his Republican opponent.
If the only Republican name on the ballot were Darrell Issa (the Republican Congressman who bankrolled the recall), I'd probably vote the retain Davis. If Tom Delay (the Republican Majority Leader of the House) were the only Republican on the ballot, I'd probably vote to retain Davis. However, the field of candidates promises to be much more interesting than that. The likelihood of Davis being replaced by a clown such as Arnold Swarzennegger delights me. For one, he'll be more interesting and sure as hell won't be any worse than Davis. He won't consider the "other side" to be evil. He will be able to talk to both sides in our political debate. Of course, Arnold is a longshot. More likely we'll get one of the Republican's True Believers and the holy war will continue.
Davis should resign and let Bustamonte be the sitting governor. The recall will continue, but it'll fail because the recall is about Davis, not Democrat hegemony over Republicans. Bustamonte's profile will be much higher and generally more positive than any of the Republicans seeking to overturn Davis. The coup fails.
But what about the budget? Do we do nothing for the next six to nine months? Republicans insist on cutting both the size and cost of government. In the five years of Gray Davis, the budget has grown astronomically. Republicans are insisting that the budget be balanced through spending cuts. Is it unreasonable? Probably. Can they pull it off? Possibly. Do I want them to? Harder question. But I can tell you one thing for certain. I don't care for the process we have in place. We seem to have a dictatorship of the minority. That's plain wrong.
Monday, July 14, 2003
Technically Lying
"As you know, in a deposition in January, I was asked questions about my relationship with Monica Lewinsky. While, technically, my answers were legally accurate, I was not entirely truthful with my information."
- William Jefferson Clinton (August 1998)
...while others don't:
"It didn't rise to the standard of a presidential speech, but it's not known, for example, that it was inaccurate. In fact, people think it was technically accurate."
- Donald Rumsfeld (July 2003)
(From Media Whores Online
Well, thank God Shrub brought honesty and accountability back to Washington.
"As you know, in a deposition in January, I was asked questions about my relationship with Monica Lewinsky. While, technically, my answers were legally accurate, I was not entirely truthful with my information."
- William Jefferson Clinton (August 1998)
...while others don't:
"It didn't rise to the standard of a presidential speech, but it's not known, for example, that it was inaccurate. In fact, people think it was technically accurate."
- Donald Rumsfeld (July 2003)
(From Media Whores Online
Well, thank God Shrub brought honesty and accountability back to Washington.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Summer
My birthday is this week. I'll be 56 years here. When I was young, that seemed like a very long time. Now, I'm not as sure. It seems like it's been a long time, but my grandmother lived to be 98, so I've got the genes in me that say this could be just half way, only during the next half your back hurts a lot, your energy wains more than it waxes, and your mind wanders a lot.
I do know more now than say I did at 26 or even 46. For instance, I'm not nearly as smart as I thought I was at 26. I'm better looking, too. That happens to some men. Of course, at 26 I'd have traded that for a bigger dick. Nah, I wouldn't have either, but it sounds like something I'd have said. All in all, I'm pretty lucky. Hard work is a good virtue, but luck is a blessing from the universe itself. I'm lucky. I was born a (semi-) White male in the richest country on the planet. I could just have easily been born a third world woman.
I was lucky in that I was wanted by both my mother and father, and even though my father was killed when I was only 5, I was lucky in how my aunts and uncles and grandmother helped my mother and saw to my needs, emotional and physical. I hope I showed my gratitude to them as I grew up, and I hope I lead my life today in such a way that they would be proud of the sacrifices they made as they participated in my upbringing.
All of those things are filed under "luck." They were just blessings showered down by the universe.
I'm also rich. My mother would tease me and say that I only spend money like I'm rich, which in actuality, makes me poor. I disagree. Rich is a state of mind. I have an abundance of friends, health, good fortune, happiness. I laugh more than I cry and smiling comes easy. And while I don't have a lot of money, I have enough.
I have a comfortable home. I share it with a Maine Coon cat named Beauregard that I've had for ten years now. We're pretty closely bonded, but we're not all touchy feely about it. He hangs with me, follows me around the house, naps near where I'm working, and talks to me when he wants something as though he's sure I understand his language. He's always talked to me like that. He learned it from me, I suppose. I talk to him all the time like he's supposed to understand exactly what I'm talking about. Sometimes I think I'd rather have put that energy into a relationship with a human, but frankly, Beauregard isn't why I don't have a significant other, and since I don't have a significant other, I'm sure as hell glad I have Beauregard.
Where am I going with this? Oh yeah, give thanks. It's my birthday and I believe one is supposed to begin with a recitation of one's blessings and be thankful. I'm pretty sure the only way that one can adequately give thanks is to go forth and be generous in the world.
Blessed be.
My birthday is this week. I'll be 56 years here. When I was young, that seemed like a very long time. Now, I'm not as sure. It seems like it's been a long time, but my grandmother lived to be 98, so I've got the genes in me that say this could be just half way, only during the next half your back hurts a lot, your energy wains more than it waxes, and your mind wanders a lot.
I do know more now than say I did at 26 or even 46. For instance, I'm not nearly as smart as I thought I was at 26. I'm better looking, too. That happens to some men. Of course, at 26 I'd have traded that for a bigger dick. Nah, I wouldn't have either, but it sounds like something I'd have said. All in all, I'm pretty lucky. Hard work is a good virtue, but luck is a blessing from the universe itself. I'm lucky. I was born a (semi-) White male in the richest country on the planet. I could just have easily been born a third world woman.
I was lucky in that I was wanted by both my mother and father, and even though my father was killed when I was only 5, I was lucky in how my aunts and uncles and grandmother helped my mother and saw to my needs, emotional and physical. I hope I showed my gratitude to them as I grew up, and I hope I lead my life today in such a way that they would be proud of the sacrifices they made as they participated in my upbringing.
All of those things are filed under "luck." They were just blessings showered down by the universe.
I'm also rich. My mother would tease me and say that I only spend money like I'm rich, which in actuality, makes me poor. I disagree. Rich is a state of mind. I have an abundance of friends, health, good fortune, happiness. I laugh more than I cry and smiling comes easy. And while I don't have a lot of money, I have enough.
I have a comfortable home. I share it with a Maine Coon cat named Beauregard that I've had for ten years now. We're pretty closely bonded, but we're not all touchy feely about it. He hangs with me, follows me around the house, naps near where I'm working, and talks to me when he wants something as though he's sure I understand his language. He's always talked to me like that. He learned it from me, I suppose. I talk to him all the time like he's supposed to understand exactly what I'm talking about. Sometimes I think I'd rather have put that energy into a relationship with a human, but frankly, Beauregard isn't why I don't have a significant other, and since I don't have a significant other, I'm sure as hell glad I have Beauregard.
Where am I going with this? Oh yeah, give thanks. It's my birthday and I believe one is supposed to begin with a recitation of one's blessings and be thankful. I'm pretty sure the only way that one can adequately give thanks is to go forth and be generous in the world.
Blessed be.
Friday, July 11, 2003
Another Reason Why I'm Not A Republican
As if I needed another one. Via the Washington Blade, Bob Marshall, member of the Virginia House of Delegates from Loudoun and Prince William Counties, wonders if the Supreme Court's decision will require schools to teach 14 year olds "fisting." Right on Bobo, you probably discovered fisting right after you took your head out of your ass. Where do they find these idiots?
As if I needed another one. Via the Washington Blade, Bob Marshall, member of the Virginia House of Delegates from Loudoun and Prince William Counties, wonders if the Supreme Court's decision will require schools to teach 14 year olds "fisting." Right on Bobo, you probably discovered fisting right after you took your head out of your ass. Where do they find these idiots?
Gay Marriage
I really haven't had much to say about this. Hell, I can't even get a date, much less a husband. The most eloquent statements thus far have come from straights (or at least from people I presume to be straight). Andy, over at The World Wide Rant does an excellent job fisking that " Pennsylvania Pinhead," aka REPUBLICAN Senator Rick Santorum on the subject of Gay marriage. Thanks, Andy, for giving us a new nickname for the idiot.
Oh, about Gay Marriage. I guess I'm fer it. I'm definitely in favor of finding a husband. It's probably a reaction to living most of my life outside law and society's blessings, but I don't really think I need a marriage license to have a relationship. Yeah, yeah, for my Gay brothers and Lesbian sisters who do think this is important, okay, I'm with you. But I have little enthusiasm for wanting to adapt a failed institution to a new age lifestyle.
I really haven't had much to say about this. Hell, I can't even get a date, much less a husband. The most eloquent statements thus far have come from straights (or at least from people I presume to be straight). Andy, over at The World Wide Rant does an excellent job fisking that " Pennsylvania Pinhead," aka REPUBLICAN Senator Rick Santorum on the subject of Gay marriage. Thanks, Andy, for giving us a new nickname for the idiot.
Oh, about Gay Marriage. I guess I'm fer it. I'm definitely in favor of finding a husband. It's probably a reaction to living most of my life outside law and society's blessings, but I don't really think I need a marriage license to have a relationship. Yeah, yeah, for my Gay brothers and Lesbian sisters who do think this is important, okay, I'm with you. But I have little enthusiasm for wanting to adapt a failed institution to a new age lifestyle.
Did Bush Lie?
I reluctantly supported the President and the war against Iraq. So far "Iraq has weapons of mass destructions" and "they're trying to buy uranium from Niger" rank right up there with "I won't come in your mouth" as classic lies. I can't say I feel personally betrayed because, well, I have never liked the s.o.b. It was never personal. The whole world opposed us, with the exception of Tony Blair and half a dozen other small countries. I bet if Tony Blair had the ability to do the whole thing over again, he'd choose his side more carefully. Non-RightWingers in the blogosphere are holding the administration's feet to the fire over the deliberate and systematic misrepresentations of the administration as it marched us to war. The RightWingers call any questioning of the administration about its deliberate lying to be partisan. If you're interested in getting the lowdown, I recommend Josh Marshall's take on it. I'll sum it up briefly. The White House was told that the information was weak and possibly not true, so they chose to use it anyway and say "according to the British." That's weak. Thanks a lot, Tony Blair. You stood by them, gave them legitimacy and now they're doing their best to butt-fuck you.
I reluctantly supported the President and the war against Iraq. So far "Iraq has weapons of mass destructions" and "they're trying to buy uranium from Niger" rank right up there with "I won't come in your mouth" as classic lies. I can't say I feel personally betrayed because, well, I have never liked the s.o.b. It was never personal. The whole world opposed us, with the exception of Tony Blair and half a dozen other small countries. I bet if Tony Blair had the ability to do the whole thing over again, he'd choose his side more carefully. Non-RightWingers in the blogosphere are holding the administration's feet to the fire over the deliberate and systematic misrepresentations of the administration as it marched us to war. The RightWingers call any questioning of the administration about its deliberate lying to be partisan. If you're interested in getting the lowdown, I recommend Josh Marshall's take on it. I'll sum it up briefly. The White House was told that the information was weak and possibly not true, so they chose to use it anyway and say "according to the British." That's weak. Thanks a lot, Tony Blair. You stood by them, gave them legitimacy and now they're doing their best to butt-fuck you.
Thursday, July 10, 2003
Interesting
I've been out visiting in the Blogosphere. There's a whole bunch of folks I don't know well. Let me introduce you. First is Holden Caulfield's Lover. He's amazingly candid about his life and loves. Today he talks about drugs. Very enlightening. He's not particularly unique in his experience, but his willingness to talk about it is unique. He's also quite articulate.
Which I haven't been of late. Maybe it's cyclical. Maybe I'm out of dope. Maybe, who knows? I've added several new Gay blogs to my list. I've also removed a few who were no longer writing, or whose views took too hard a turn to the right.
I've been out visiting in the Blogosphere. There's a whole bunch of folks I don't know well. Let me introduce you. First is Holden Caulfield's Lover. He's amazingly candid about his life and loves. Today he talks about drugs. Very enlightening. He's not particularly unique in his experience, but his willingness to talk about it is unique. He's also quite articulate.
Which I haven't been of late. Maybe it's cyclical. Maybe I'm out of dope. Maybe, who knows? I've added several new Gay blogs to my list. I've also removed a few who were no longer writing, or whose views took too hard a turn to the right.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
Oh, Canada!
Just spent the past week in Canada. Nice geography, nice gene pool. The occasion was a Gay rodeo in Calgary. Most visitors stayed at an RV camp by the rodeo grounds. I was the guest of a delightful young man from Kamloops who is in the process of restoring a 1977 Airstream trailer. It's a little like a yacht in its use of smartly designed hatches that batten down well for travel. I kept imagining us as Lucy and Ricky do trailer camping.
Did I mention how much I like Canadians? They're a great bunch of folk. Okay, maybe it was me. There I was with two or three thousand, goodlooking men (and several hundred handsome women) who thought I was cute and loved my stories. Okay, you just can't beat that. I hope I entertained them as well as they entertained me. And they were so cute in their cowboy clothes. (I did mention that it was a rodeo, right? I LOVE theme parties.)
My thanks to Chris, Rob, Rod, Ron, Rick, (we called ourselves the Terrible R's), William, Dwayne, Cliff and another Chris, Steven, Kevin, Michel, Art, Alain, Donal, and the list goes on and on. I love you guys. You made me feel like I was the best looking, most interesting person on the planet. I hope you'll come visit me in California. I owe you all a big one.
Next year, guys. Same time, same place?
Cheers. eh?
Just spent the past week in Canada. Nice geography, nice gene pool. The occasion was a Gay rodeo in Calgary. Most visitors stayed at an RV camp by the rodeo grounds. I was the guest of a delightful young man from Kamloops who is in the process of restoring a 1977 Airstream trailer. It's a little like a yacht in its use of smartly designed hatches that batten down well for travel. I kept imagining us as Lucy and Ricky do trailer camping.
Did I mention how much I like Canadians? They're a great bunch of folk. Okay, maybe it was me. There I was with two or three thousand, goodlooking men (and several hundred handsome women) who thought I was cute and loved my stories. Okay, you just can't beat that. I hope I entertained them as well as they entertained me. And they were so cute in their cowboy clothes. (I did mention that it was a rodeo, right? I LOVE theme parties.)
My thanks to Chris, Rob, Rod, Ron, Rick, (we called ourselves the Terrible R's), William, Dwayne, Cliff and another Chris, Steven, Kevin, Michel, Art, Alain, Donal, and the list goes on and on. I love you guys. You made me feel like I was the best looking, most interesting person on the planet. I hope you'll come visit me in California. I owe you all a big one.
Next year, guys. Same time, same place?
Cheers. eh?
Saturday, June 21, 2003
On the Road again
I'm at my sister's house in Grants Pass, Oregon. Can't tell you much about GP, but my sister's house is nice. Maybe a little too Laura Ashley for my tastes, but on my sister it looks good.
The traffic was steady. Interstate 5 is not my favorite highway, at least not the part through northern California. It's narrow, as freeways go, and well worn. Made it here in six and a half hours. And my back is in good shape. Ain't nothing like a Cadillac for a nice ride. Yeah,uh huh. It's me and my car.
I'm at my sister's house in Grants Pass, Oregon. Can't tell you much about GP, but my sister's house is nice. Maybe a little too Laura Ashley for my tastes, but on my sister it looks good.
The traffic was steady. Interstate 5 is not my favorite highway, at least not the part through northern California. It's narrow, as freeways go, and well worn. Made it here in six and a half hours. And my back is in good shape. Ain't nothing like a Cadillac for a nice ride. Yeah,uh huh. It's me and my car.
But before I go . . .
Did I mention that I'm driving my car? That calls for a whole different level of reasoning when you start to pack. It allows me to postpone decisions about what I need to be away from my fort. Cut to the chase, the result is I look like a gypsy. I could probably sustain myself from my cadillac for a month. Fucking boy scouts ain't got nothin' on me. I'm fucking prepared.
My neighbor downstairs looks at the pile of clothes heading towards the car with a certain disbelief and asks "you taking all of that?"
It's a major Gay event, I exclaim in my own disbelief at his lack of knowledge of Gay megaevents, after all, he's witnessed San Francisco's Gay week-end, along with the equally intense Castro Fair Week-end and week till Folsom Street Fair? I patiently explain to him that I may need as many as 3 changes per day at the heighth of the week-end. And because it's a "themed" week-end, as in Rodeo, the costume of the day is western. And since I'm originally from Texas, I see Western as sort of my native dress, and being a natural born, native "princess" I dress colorfully.
In short, I'm taking a lot of stuff. This is a high maintenance week-end set in the middle of a week of family and a week of me as a grownup getting lost in an imagined world in either Vancouver, Victoria, or Seattle. Outside chance of Portland, but it's way out there.
Now, getting lost in a large major city calls for great subtlety. I like to wander around and absorb interesting aspects of a place. I'm vain enough to want to get noticed by interesting people, and once noticed to be thought interesting, but I also like being an almost invisible spirit, a passing shadow. Leaving a wake but no disturbance. Refreshing several of my inner selves by free floating in a fantasy created by my experiencing the city with complete openness.
It's a great high. I'll report back in later. rlbtzero
Did I mention that I'm driving my car? That calls for a whole different level of reasoning when you start to pack. It allows me to postpone decisions about what I need to be away from my fort. Cut to the chase, the result is I look like a gypsy. I could probably sustain myself from my cadillac for a month. Fucking boy scouts ain't got nothin' on me. I'm fucking prepared.
My neighbor downstairs looks at the pile of clothes heading towards the car with a certain disbelief and asks "you taking all of that?"
It's a major Gay event, I exclaim in my own disbelief at his lack of knowledge of Gay megaevents, after all, he's witnessed San Francisco's Gay week-end, along with the equally intense Castro Fair Week-end and week till Folsom Street Fair? I patiently explain to him that I may need as many as 3 changes per day at the heighth of the week-end. And because it's a "themed" week-end, as in Rodeo, the costume of the day is western. And since I'm originally from Texas, I see Western as sort of my native dress, and being a natural born, native "princess" I dress colorfully.
In short, I'm taking a lot of stuff. This is a high maintenance week-end set in the middle of a week of family and a week of me as a grownup getting lost in an imagined world in either Vancouver, Victoria, or Seattle. Outside chance of Portland, but it's way out there.
Now, getting lost in a large major city calls for great subtlety. I like to wander around and absorb interesting aspects of a place. I'm vain enough to want to get noticed by interesting people, and once noticed to be thought interesting, but I also like being an almost invisible spirit, a passing shadow. Leaving a wake but no disturbance. Refreshing several of my inner selves by free floating in a fantasy created by my experiencing the city with complete openness.
It's a great high. I'll report back in later. rlbtzero
Vacation
I'm off to Canada for a couple of weeks. I'm driving my 1990 Cadillac El Dorado to Vancouver, British Columbia. En route, I'll stop and see my sisters in Oregon and a good friend in Bellingham, Washington. But my destination is Canada where I'm joining up with a friend to go to the Gay Rodeo in Calgary. I may blog once or twice before I get back, but chances are you won't be seeing or hearing from me for a couple of weeks.
Have a great 4th of July.
I'm off to Canada for a couple of weeks. I'm driving my 1990 Cadillac El Dorado to Vancouver, British Columbia. En route, I'll stop and see my sisters in Oregon and a good friend in Bellingham, Washington. But my destination is Canada where I'm joining up with a friend to go to the Gay Rodeo in Calgary. I may blog once or twice before I get back, but chances are you won't be seeing or hearing from me for a couple of weeks.
Have a great 4th of July.
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Dear Leon,
I know you're a good and loyal friend of the Bush family. Even though I was personally horrified at his election to the Presidency, I congratulated you because I knew you were very proud of this achievement. I have held back with my opinion of Bush as President. I have always considered him a lightweight, but out of respect for the office of President I have given him the benefit of doubt whenever possible, and out of my respect for you, I have not criticized him to you. That has now changed.
When you called me, you were not interested in my opinion. You wanted to vent against the Democrats who thought his landing on the aircraft carrier to be just too contrived and staged. I thought that a valid criticism and told you so. Our conversation quickly became an argument. You thought my tone with you too strident. I thought your comments to me too stupid. I'm sorry, but that's what I thought of what you had to say.
You were also offended that I told you that sitting alone in the woods watching Fox News was not good for you. You said I called you an extreme Right Winger. I did not. I thought it, but I know I did not say it to you. I'm too polite.
I'm also concerned about the way the administration contrived the evidence about weapons of mass destruction. Yes, Sadam was evil and should have been deposed. But that was not the song to which we marched off to war. This is too serious an issue to lie to the American people and the world about. Lying about a blow job is one thing, this is quite something else.
But you've decided to accept all the lies and bullshit coming from this administration. I think that really does interfere with our relationship. I wish you well. This issue between us will be there for awhile, but not forever.
I know you're a good and loyal friend of the Bush family. Even though I was personally horrified at his election to the Presidency, I congratulated you because I knew you were very proud of this achievement. I have held back with my opinion of Bush as President. I have always considered him a lightweight, but out of respect for the office of President I have given him the benefit of doubt whenever possible, and out of my respect for you, I have not criticized him to you. That has now changed.
When you called me, you were not interested in my opinion. You wanted to vent against the Democrats who thought his landing on the aircraft carrier to be just too contrived and staged. I thought that a valid criticism and told you so. Our conversation quickly became an argument. You thought my tone with you too strident. I thought your comments to me too stupid. I'm sorry, but that's what I thought of what you had to say.
You were also offended that I told you that sitting alone in the woods watching Fox News was not good for you. You said I called you an extreme Right Winger. I did not. I thought it, but I know I did not say it to you. I'm too polite.
I'm also concerned about the way the administration contrived the evidence about weapons of mass destruction. Yes, Sadam was evil and should have been deposed. But that was not the song to which we marched off to war. This is too serious an issue to lie to the American people and the world about. Lying about a blow job is one thing, this is quite something else.
But you've decided to accept all the lies and bullshit coming from this administration. I think that really does interfere with our relationship. I wish you well. This issue between us will be there for awhile, but not forever.
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Dear Robert,
Thanks for the suggestion that I start including my letters in the blog. You're right on the money, though. Letter writing has always been my forte.
Leon called again this evening. I really need to write to her, and soon. She called tonight to let me know that she's sure I would have called and apologized for being such a bitch last month, except she hasn't been home. Yeah, sugah, that's what it is. You haven't been home for me to call and apologize. I told her the truth, once again. And guess what? She wasn't interested in my opinion this time, either. You know I've told you time and time again that that's alright with me. It really is, and I seldom get annoyed when she totally ignores what I'm saying. Do you remember back when we were getting to know each other well for the first time? I told you that my guru said that the truth never hurt anybody, but it might make them mad? That's Leon. But the truth isn't going to hurt her because she's not going to hear it. I told her twice that I wrote about our argument in my blog. Want to bet on whether she comes here to read what I had to say? No, I wouldn't take that bet either.
I will try to be generous in my future dealings with her, but I'm not interested in giving it very much energy. She'll form her own conclusions about what has transpired and lay the blame for the demise of our relationship in my lap. I really am okay with that.
I'm so looking forward to seeing you next week. I told Jim that I would be able to spend a day or so with you on my way up to Calgary, and also a day or so on my way back, unless of course you're dead, and then I'll be able to do a quick memorial service. He acted a little shocked that I would be so brutally honest about the possibility of your death, but I told him that I was relying mostly on your assessment of your possibilities. I think I told you one time that I thought the way to avoid dying was to be totally alive in the moment. If one could, then at the moment of death there would be a glorious exchange of energy with the universe. I owe you much of my soul, so I felt the least I could do would be to see you and bid you face this possibility with strength and awe. Like the Hollywood Indians used to scream on their way t o battle, "It is a good day to die.!"
I don't see you dying on that table, though. I have a vision of you on the other side of this operation. Be bold. It's going to be alright.
All my love and affection,
Raymond Ruth
Thanks for the suggestion that I start including my letters in the blog. You're right on the money, though. Letter writing has always been my forte.
Leon called again this evening. I really need to write to her, and soon. She called tonight to let me know that she's sure I would have called and apologized for being such a bitch last month, except she hasn't been home. Yeah, sugah, that's what it is. You haven't been home for me to call and apologize. I told her the truth, once again. And guess what? She wasn't interested in my opinion this time, either. You know I've told you time and time again that that's alright with me. It really is, and I seldom get annoyed when she totally ignores what I'm saying. Do you remember back when we were getting to know each other well for the first time? I told you that my guru said that the truth never hurt anybody, but it might make them mad? That's Leon. But the truth isn't going to hurt her because she's not going to hear it. I told her twice that I wrote about our argument in my blog. Want to bet on whether she comes here to read what I had to say? No, I wouldn't take that bet either.
I will try to be generous in my future dealings with her, but I'm not interested in giving it very much energy. She'll form her own conclusions about what has transpired and lay the blame for the demise of our relationship in my lap. I really am okay with that.
I'm so looking forward to seeing you next week. I told Jim that I would be able to spend a day or so with you on my way up to Calgary, and also a day or so on my way back, unless of course you're dead, and then I'll be able to do a quick memorial service. He acted a little shocked that I would be so brutally honest about the possibility of your death, but I told him that I was relying mostly on your assessment of your possibilities. I think I told you one time that I thought the way to avoid dying was to be totally alive in the moment. If one could, then at the moment of death there would be a glorious exchange of energy with the universe. I owe you much of my soul, so I felt the least I could do would be to see you and bid you face this possibility with strength and awe. Like the Hollywood Indians used to scream on their way t o battle, "It is a good day to die.!"
I don't see you dying on that table, though. I have a vision of you on the other side of this operation. Be bold. It's going to be alright.
All my love and affection,
Raymond Ruth
Monday, June 16, 2003
Standing with Israel
Scott over at AMCGLTD.COM, has a heartfelt essay about standing fast as a friend and ally of Israel. It's a good read, and I recommend it strongly. I agree with Scott, but still I anguish about what's happening in Israel. I do not have a solution.
I doubt that I would have voted for Ariel Sharon, but my life is touched by too many Jews and Israelis to do anything but hope they have the ability to stand fast and not to be changed into monsters because they face monsters, ". . . for what profits a man if he gains the world yet loses his soul?"
Tough times for Israel.
Scott over at AMCGLTD.COM, has a heartfelt essay about standing fast as a friend and ally of Israel. It's a good read, and I recommend it strongly. I agree with Scott, but still I anguish about what's happening in Israel. I do not have a solution.
I doubt that I would have voted for Ariel Sharon, but my life is touched by too many Jews and Israelis to do anything but hope they have the ability to stand fast and not to be changed into monsters because they face monsters, ". . . for what profits a man if he gains the world yet loses his soul?"
Tough times for Israel.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
Which is Worse, Bush or the Republican Party?
I say Bush is. He doesn't give a diddly squat about issues. He cynically uses them to consolidate his power. He'd sell his own mother down the river for power. I used to get so mad at the Lefties and Democrats with whom I work because they kept calling him dumb. He's not dumb. His entire political life has been successful because others misjudged his abilities.
The Republicans, on the other hand, burden themselves down with their own ideological stupidity.
The only saving grace in any and all of this is their arrogance which will bring them down. Arrogance sure brought the Democrats down.
I say Bush is. He doesn't give a diddly squat about issues. He cynically uses them to consolidate his power. He'd sell his own mother down the river for power. I used to get so mad at the Lefties and Democrats with whom I work because they kept calling him dumb. He's not dumb. His entire political life has been successful because others misjudged his abilities.
The Republicans, on the other hand, burden themselves down with their own ideological stupidity.
The only saving grace in any and all of this is their arrogance which will bring them down. Arrogance sure brought the Democrats down.
I Lied
I didn't remove all of the conservative blogs from my list. I left a couple for reasons which are personal to me, which is another way of saying I'm not sure why they're still there. It's my blog, so I don't have to explain. I will reaffirm all of them as sentient beings with well thought out points of view.
I didn't remove all of the conservative blogs from my list. I left a couple for reasons which are personal to me, which is another way of saying I'm not sure why they're still there. It's my blog, so I don't have to explain. I will reaffirm all of them as sentient beings with well thought out points of view.
Emma is angry, as am I. I have been unable to enunciate my anger and frustration. She has done it for me.
My anger has translated itself into action, albeit a passive-aggressive kind. I have removed most conservative blogs from my bloglist. They're not interested in dialogue. I have stopped speaking to friends who are Republican, or maybe they've stopped speaking to me. I do not feel especially tolerant of their ignorance and stupidity right now.
I tend to be more optimistic than pessimistic, so I believe that in the long run, good will prevail over evil. But that does not mean there won't be setbacks as humankind marches forwarded. This Bush-Republican Party dominance of our political landscape won't last forever, just longer than I want it to.
My anger has translated itself into action, albeit a passive-aggressive kind. I have removed most conservative blogs from my bloglist. They're not interested in dialogue. I have stopped speaking to friends who are Republican, or maybe they've stopped speaking to me. I do not feel especially tolerant of their ignorance and stupidity right now.
I tend to be more optimistic than pessimistic, so I believe that in the long run, good will prevail over evil. But that does not mean there won't be setbacks as humankind marches forwarded. This Bush-Republican Party dominance of our political landscape won't last forever, just longer than I want it to.
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
We've Changed Our Name
Two people noticed. There are a couple of reasons. On my home planet, rlbtzero, which is pronounced "Ray," means, literally, Raven Watches. On our planet, as on yours, Raven plays an important part of our mythology. Raven is the instigator; the catalyst. He is not a part of the system, prefering to remain on the edge of things, looking for opportunity. Nothing gets past him. He doesn't react to everything, but he notices. He has an opinion, but not many are really interested in the opinion. He knows that and he's cool with it.
I see that as a model for my own observations. No one is really interested in my opinion. I watch. I witness. The world's spiral into hell isn't helped or stopped by my observations and opinions. Or troubled by my judgment ("spiral into hell"). Actually that's more an observation than a judgment. As the competition for resources becomes more intense, the quality of life is diminished. For awhile, the advances in science, medicene, food production technology, etc., kept lifting us up despite the increasing scarcity of resources. When I was born, the population of the U.S. was around 100 million. We're at 260 million now, and the end is nowhere in sight. Houston, Texas had 100,000 people. What's it now, 5, 6 million? Same north-south freeway running through it?
Since we're a democracy (of sorts), who has a vision of how society is supposed to work based on some sort of equitable distribution of our resources? Should the distribution hinge on political organization as it does now, or should there be a more human wide approach to the sharing of resources? Who decides what's equitable?
My co-worker asked me on Monday how things were going. I answered, "I'm sorry the world is going to hell in a handbasket, but I'm doing alright." Can I be doing alright if the world IS going to hell in a handbasket? Are we not all connected?
Two people noticed. There are a couple of reasons. On my home planet, rlbtzero, which is pronounced "Ray," means, literally, Raven Watches. On our planet, as on yours, Raven plays an important part of our mythology. Raven is the instigator; the catalyst. He is not a part of the system, prefering to remain on the edge of things, looking for opportunity. Nothing gets past him. He doesn't react to everything, but he notices. He has an opinion, but not many are really interested in the opinion. He knows that and he's cool with it.
I see that as a model for my own observations. No one is really interested in my opinion. I watch. I witness. The world's spiral into hell isn't helped or stopped by my observations and opinions. Or troubled by my judgment ("spiral into hell"). Actually that's more an observation than a judgment. As the competition for resources becomes more intense, the quality of life is diminished. For awhile, the advances in science, medicene, food production technology, etc., kept lifting us up despite the increasing scarcity of resources. When I was born, the population of the U.S. was around 100 million. We're at 260 million now, and the end is nowhere in sight. Houston, Texas had 100,000 people. What's it now, 5, 6 million? Same north-south freeway running through it?
Since we're a democracy (of sorts), who has a vision of how society is supposed to work based on some sort of equitable distribution of our resources? Should the distribution hinge on political organization as it does now, or should there be a more human wide approach to the sharing of resources? Who decides what's equitable?
My co-worker asked me on Monday how things were going. I answered, "I'm sorry the world is going to hell in a handbasket, but I'm doing alright." Can I be doing alright if the world IS going to hell in a handbasket? Are we not all connected?
Monday, June 09, 2003
Friday, May 30, 2003
Hello out there...
I've been out introducing myself to good looking men. I stumbled onto this personals board called something like Chicago Gay something or another and I thought their gene pool collection better than most I'd seen, so I subscribed. Sort of. It seems they charge twenty-fucking dollars to actually communicate with anyone. That seems a bit rich, now doesn't it.
Anyway, I'm trying to beat their system. I indicated to quite a few interesting looking chaps that I found them interesting. I was all over the fucking world. And they were all very interesting. I was so excited. So if any of you guys stumbles onto this humble site, drop me a note. I'd love to meet you. You can reach me at rlbtzero-at-Louisiana-dot-com.
I've been out introducing myself to good looking men. I stumbled onto this personals board called something like Chicago Gay something or another and I thought their gene pool collection better than most I'd seen, so I subscribed. Sort of. It seems they charge twenty-fucking dollars to actually communicate with anyone. That seems a bit rich, now doesn't it.
Anyway, I'm trying to beat their system. I indicated to quite a few interesting looking chaps that I found them interesting. I was all over the fucking world. And they were all very interesting. I was so excited. So if any of you guys stumbles onto this humble site, drop me a note. I'd love to meet you. You can reach me at rlbtzero-at-Louisiana-dot-com.
Monday, May 12, 2003
Monday Morning Ramblings
My friend Leon called last night and got her butt bit. I didn't do it on purpose, of course, but she walked into it blinded by her own lack of awareness. In the course of conversation which she had turned back to herself 3 or 4 times after politely asking about my week-end but not waiting for the answer, she said that she was disgusted with the liberal Democrats who were finding fault with President Bush's arriving on an aircraft carrier aboard a fighter plane which he had not piloted, but still dressed in a flight suit, giving a triumphal speech to the troops. I couldn't believe that she had the audacity to criticize anyone who took exception to it. Especially since I thought it was done in incredibly poor taste and told her so. If he likes the idea of being a fighter pilot, he should have joined others of his generation in Vietnam, rather than ducking by getting into the Texas Air National Guard using family connections and then not doing that honorably, disappearing as it were just when he was supposed to be tested for drugs.
I think Leon was a little shocked by the vehemence of my reaction to her comment. Even though she was backing away from the conflict as she was hanging up, today she'll wake up and be angry with me. She'll tell her friends that we just can't talk politics because of the extremity of my views. She'll take no responsibility for bringing the subject up, or that she was participating in an aggressive campaign against dissent. I'm okay with that. I realized a long time ago that she wasn't interested in my opinion. She probably hasn't visited this blog since I sent out announcements to various friends that I would be coming here to express my feelings and opinions rather than subjecting them to a near constant barage of articles to read. I don't think she even noticed that I had stopped forwarding articles and links. Again, I'm not faulting her for her lack of interest, but I have noticed it.
She demonstrates perfectly why I'm so turned off by what passes for political debate in this country. She has absolutely no interest in any facts that do not support her predetermined view of the situation. Even to the point of personal cost. She did so much better financially during the Clinton years than she has done during the Bush years, either Bush's years. She has given Clinton no credit for anything. She feels she is very balanced in her approach: Everything good that happened during Clinton's years were due to something else. Everything good that happens during Bush's tenure is because Bush is strong and courageous, and all bad is the result of the unAmerican dissent. I don't mind that a good friend has such a simplistic point of view, I'm only offended when they insist I abandon my own knowledge and experience and endorse their simplistic point of view. No thanks, I'd rather not.
My friend Leon called last night and got her butt bit. I didn't do it on purpose, of course, but she walked into it blinded by her own lack of awareness. In the course of conversation which she had turned back to herself 3 or 4 times after politely asking about my week-end but not waiting for the answer, she said that she was disgusted with the liberal Democrats who were finding fault with President Bush's arriving on an aircraft carrier aboard a fighter plane which he had not piloted, but still dressed in a flight suit, giving a triumphal speech to the troops. I couldn't believe that she had the audacity to criticize anyone who took exception to it. Especially since I thought it was done in incredibly poor taste and told her so. If he likes the idea of being a fighter pilot, he should have joined others of his generation in Vietnam, rather than ducking by getting into the Texas Air National Guard using family connections and then not doing that honorably, disappearing as it were just when he was supposed to be tested for drugs.
I think Leon was a little shocked by the vehemence of my reaction to her comment. Even though she was backing away from the conflict as she was hanging up, today she'll wake up and be angry with me. She'll tell her friends that we just can't talk politics because of the extremity of my views. She'll take no responsibility for bringing the subject up, or that she was participating in an aggressive campaign against dissent. I'm okay with that. I realized a long time ago that she wasn't interested in my opinion. She probably hasn't visited this blog since I sent out announcements to various friends that I would be coming here to express my feelings and opinions rather than subjecting them to a near constant barage of articles to read. I don't think she even noticed that I had stopped forwarding articles and links. Again, I'm not faulting her for her lack of interest, but I have noticed it.
She demonstrates perfectly why I'm so turned off by what passes for political debate in this country. She has absolutely no interest in any facts that do not support her predetermined view of the situation. Even to the point of personal cost. She did so much better financially during the Clinton years than she has done during the Bush years, either Bush's years. She has given Clinton no credit for anything. She feels she is very balanced in her approach: Everything good that happened during Clinton's years were due to something else. Everything good that happens during Bush's tenure is because Bush is strong and courageous, and all bad is the result of the unAmerican dissent. I don't mind that a good friend has such a simplistic point of view, I'm only offended when they insist I abandon my own knowledge and experience and endorse their simplistic point of view. No thanks, I'd rather not.
Thursday, May 01, 2003
Okay, I'm back
I am not reading political blogs, nor do I intend to talk about politics. Okay, I lie. Of course, I'm going to talk about politics. I am going to steer the focus away from politics more towards contemporary culture, whatever that means. I will continue to talk about my life, or at least how this particular personality I channel views my life.
If you're here reading this, it means I've left a calling card. I maintain this blog, not so much because I have great wisdoms to give humankind. It's more like carving your initials into a tree. It's a tiny mark to measure against in an impermanent world. As the world is evolving, so too am I. I've always been a journal writer, so this is really just a continuation. I didn't make this blog private because I enjoy the idea that someone might secretly be watching me and reading over my shoulder. I doubt it, but the idea excites me. Read away. What do I think you should get from reading this? That you are not alone. We are all struggling with issues: some of our making, some from the cosmic hurricane that tosses us about the universe.
rlbtzero (it's pronounced Ray) is one of several personalities through which I write. He's more serious than some of the others. What? You don't have several personalities? That's too bad. It's a lot more fun having conversations with yourself when there's several of you.
I am not reading political blogs, nor do I intend to talk about politics. Okay, I lie. Of course, I'm going to talk about politics. I am going to steer the focus away from politics more towards contemporary culture, whatever that means. I will continue to talk about my life, or at least how this particular personality I channel views my life.
If you're here reading this, it means I've left a calling card. I maintain this blog, not so much because I have great wisdoms to give humankind. It's more like carving your initials into a tree. It's a tiny mark to measure against in an impermanent world. As the world is evolving, so too am I. I've always been a journal writer, so this is really just a continuation. I didn't make this blog private because I enjoy the idea that someone might secretly be watching me and reading over my shoulder. I doubt it, but the idea excites me. Read away. What do I think you should get from reading this? That you are not alone. We are all struggling with issues: some of our making, some from the cosmic hurricane that tosses us about the universe.
rlbtzero (it's pronounced Ray) is one of several personalities through which I write. He's more serious than some of the others. What? You don't have several personalities? That's too bad. It's a lot more fun having conversations with yourself when there's several of you.
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
I'm Now Leaving this Universe
I'm so turned off by the level of discourse in political conversation right now. Nobody is listening to anybody, although each side takes plenty of time to tear down the other side, using every tool in the arsenal, no matter how petty. "Oh, he used a double negative! You can't trust anyone who uses a double negative!" "Oh, she used her celebrity status to have an opinion different from my own! I'll show her 'freedom of speech'"! And in all of my life, I've never been spoken to as condescendingly as I have on some of the sites. It's a choice between fools and mean people.
I have another blog where my other personalities are presently having more fun than this one is here. I'd invite you over to party with us, but hell, you haven't paid any attention to me here, why should I expect you to do any different there.
I may stop by from time to time, but it may be awhile. Meanwhile, best wishes to all of you.
I'm so turned off by the level of discourse in political conversation right now. Nobody is listening to anybody, although each side takes plenty of time to tear down the other side, using every tool in the arsenal, no matter how petty. "Oh, he used a double negative! You can't trust anyone who uses a double negative!" "Oh, she used her celebrity status to have an opinion different from my own! I'll show her 'freedom of speech'"! And in all of my life, I've never been spoken to as condescendingly as I have on some of the sites. It's a choice between fools and mean people.
I have another blog where my other personalities are presently having more fun than this one is here. I'd invite you over to party with us, but hell, you haven't paid any attention to me here, why should I expect you to do any different there.
I may stop by from time to time, but it may be awhile. Meanwhile, best wishes to all of you.
Saturday, April 26, 2003
Bush: Criminalize Fetus Injury in Crime
This is just too stupid. Hey, my Right Wing Libertarian friends, Hey Republicans who are always talking about less government, not every fucking crime committed is a federal offense. This is pandering. State Law takes care of everything well enough. We don't need this. This will come back and bite your fucking ass.
Now the obvious: Back door attack on abortion? If it can be done by simple legislation, those fucking asshole Republicans in Washington will do it. Back off, Assholes. We don't need the Federal fucking government to step in where the States are doing it adequately.
This is just too stupid. Hey, my Right Wing Libertarian friends, Hey Republicans who are always talking about less government, not every fucking crime committed is a federal offense. This is pandering. State Law takes care of everything well enough. We don't need this. This will come back and bite your fucking ass.
Now the obvious: Back door attack on abortion? If it can be done by simple legislation, those fucking asshole Republicans in Washington will do it. Back off, Assholes. We don't need the Federal fucking government to step in where the States are doing it adequately.
Friday, April 25, 2003
I Yam Not a Drag Queen!
(Although I played one once in a movie about my life.)
So which fairy tale archetype are you? Hmm??
made by Michelle at EmptySpace.
(Although I played one once in a movie about my life.)
So which fairy tale archetype are you? Hmm??
made by Michelle at EmptySpace.
Thursday, April 24, 2003
I'm Not an Ugly Duckling, I'm a Goose
Maybe it's just me, but I keep getting pushed farther and farther to the Left in the blogosphere. I started out thinking I was a conservative, but from what I can tell about the ones that call themselves conservatives, I know I'm not one of them. For instance, I don't think you're my mortal enemy if you don't agree with me, nor do I think you're unpatriotic just because you were against the war and don't particularly care for the President or his policies. We can still talk.
I start getting nervous when you equate Bush with Hitler, Jews with Nazis, Israel with Germany, etc. Listen, if I lived in Israel, I doubt that I would have voted for Ariel Sharon. That does not make me hate Jews or Israel. If you want to criticize Israel, fine, go ahead. If you give the Palestinians a free ride when you do criticize Israel, I'm not going to take your comments seriously, and we're probably going to get into an argument. That was what happened that pushed me towards the Right in the first place. Well, that and the fact that I was (and am, still) ambivalent about the war in Iraq. Saddam was a lowlife animal that needed to be removed. Since we created him in large part, I didn't think it wrong that we eliminated him. That ambivalence sure put me in bed with some strange fellows. I feel like the guy who wakes up after a night of heavy partying to discover himself in bed with a whore that's so ugly, that all I want to do is chew my arm off and escape before she wakes up. Okay, having said all that, meet the new addition to my blog role Bill, over at IndustrialBlog. I do invite you by to read Bill's observations about the world around us. I can't tell you a lot about Bill, but I can tell you that he has sincerity in his writing and in his approach to politics and the world in which we live. He also quotes from the Book of Common Prayer is a previous post, which suggests to me that he may be a co-religious of mine. It doesn't mean much, but it does give us a shared frame of reference. Go read Bill.
Maybe it's just me, but I keep getting pushed farther and farther to the Left in the blogosphere. I started out thinking I was a conservative, but from what I can tell about the ones that call themselves conservatives, I know I'm not one of them. For instance, I don't think you're my mortal enemy if you don't agree with me, nor do I think you're unpatriotic just because you were against the war and don't particularly care for the President or his policies. We can still talk.
I start getting nervous when you equate Bush with Hitler, Jews with Nazis, Israel with Germany, etc. Listen, if I lived in Israel, I doubt that I would have voted for Ariel Sharon. That does not make me hate Jews or Israel. If you want to criticize Israel, fine, go ahead. If you give the Palestinians a free ride when you do criticize Israel, I'm not going to take your comments seriously, and we're probably going to get into an argument. That was what happened that pushed me towards the Right in the first place. Well, that and the fact that I was (and am, still) ambivalent about the war in Iraq. Saddam was a lowlife animal that needed to be removed. Since we created him in large part, I didn't think it wrong that we eliminated him. That ambivalence sure put me in bed with some strange fellows. I feel like the guy who wakes up after a night of heavy partying to discover himself in bed with a whore that's so ugly, that all I want to do is chew my arm off and escape before she wakes up. Okay, having said all that, meet the new addition to my blog role Bill, over at IndustrialBlog. I do invite you by to read Bill's observations about the world around us. I can't tell you a lot about Bill, but I can tell you that he has sincerity in his writing and in his approach to politics and the world in which we live. He also quotes from the Book of Common Prayer is a previous post, which suggests to me that he may be a co-religious of mine. It doesn't mean much, but it does give us a shared frame of reference. Go read Bill.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
New Neighbor
I've added another link to my blogroll, Food for Thought. This left of center blog has an anonymous owner who goes by the moniker MC_Masterchef. So far he's pretty much a run of the mill liberal, left of center, type commentor, but since I'm an ex-chef, foodie type dude, I like him more than others like him. Or her. He's been blogging just about as long as have I, so he's still feeling out the medium, but he's got the knack and I'm going to visit and read his opinion for awhile. Welcome, MC.
When I first started blogging, I found myself reading more conservative, Right-wing blogs more than others. That was in part due to my tendency to support the President in his determination to rid the world of Saddam Hussein, a vile and evil person. While I never thought war was particularly the best way of dealing with the problems, I thought the opposition from the Democrats and the Left was weak and pathetic. I've just about come a full circle. I'm over my infatuation with the Right. They keep getting kookier and kookier. They just keep farting and farting, and even though they say they're singing, it sounds like farts to me.
I've added another link to my blogroll, Food for Thought. This left of center blog has an anonymous owner who goes by the moniker MC_Masterchef. So far he's pretty much a run of the mill liberal, left of center, type commentor, but since I'm an ex-chef, foodie type dude, I like him more than others like him. Or her. He's been blogging just about as long as have I, so he's still feeling out the medium, but he's got the knack and I'm going to visit and read his opinion for awhile. Welcome, MC.
When I first started blogging, I found myself reading more conservative, Right-wing blogs more than others. That was in part due to my tendency to support the President in his determination to rid the world of Saddam Hussein, a vile and evil person. While I never thought war was particularly the best way of dealing with the problems, I thought the opposition from the Democrats and the Left was weak and pathetic. I've just about come a full circle. I'm over my infatuation with the Right. They keep getting kookier and kookier. They just keep farting and farting, and even though they say they're singing, it sounds like farts to me.
Saturday, April 19, 2003
The Lie of Democracy
Nobody really wants the Iraqis to have a democracy. Hold an election tomorrow and it becomes a mirror to Iran. You know, Saddam should have followed the Saudi model of Islamic despotism. The Saudi royals have just as much money, just as many palaces, just as many cousins in government jobs as Saddam did, just as much absolute control. The only difference is that they aren't psychotic, and Saddam and his group quickly became so. Okay, but that aside, if the Iraqis voted tomorrow they would create an Islamic, sharia judged, clerically ruled state that would systematically persecute Kurds, Sunni or Shiite -- it would depend on which group had the clerics and control of the democracy -- and the few Turkomen up near the Turkish border.
If we had democracy in this country, Al Gore would be President. Oh, fuck off, I'm not talking about the Florida debacle, I'm talking about democracy with a little d, the rule of the people there of. Gore got more votes. We are, however, a democratic republic. There is a set of rules and they are determined by democratically elected officials. It is not a total free for all. There are guarantees to which everyone agrees that protect the minority, or those not in power for the moment. In this country, we have evolved in the direction of giving everyone equal access to participation. We have rules that say one race cannot enslave minority races. We have rules that say sexes should have equal participation. We have enough rules to keep the political party in power from passing restrictions on the political party not in power.
Anyway, it's all very complex and a lot of real smart people have written about it and still, everybody keeps bandying the word about. Everybody talking about it, nobody meaning it.
Politics in America, or The Grizzily Bear and the Wolves
As in most competitions for power, there are really only two groups: those in power and those who want to be in power. The Republicans who are in power are represented by the grizzily bear and the Democrats who are out of power are represented as a pack of wolves. Within both groups are competing factions, interest groups, power centers, both organization and personal, and money. But what a prize! Whoever controls the government, controls trillions of dollars of wealth. You want a visual? Think of a giant moose carcass being fought over by a grizzily bear and a pack of starving wolves being watched by a raven. I'm the raven and that carcass is my supper, too. Neither the bear nor the wolves pay attention to me, but neither would hesitate to eat me if I happened to be easy or if I got their attention.
At present, the grizzily controls the government. Its head is George W. Bush, a real man who was born to the Republican ruling class, whose father also held the job of President, and whose grandfather was in the top elite of their ruling class in his generation. The level of power, the body and the arms and claws of the bear, just below the President is huge. The kind of entities that make up this part of the grizzily are varied between ideological and mercenary in their make-up. Ideological groups, such as neocons. Another example of ideological group with power would be the organized religions. Both have a world view and seek to influence decisions made that effect that view. Because the boundaries of this group are so nebulous, it's relation to power is just as vague. Personality based group would be Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. They sit at the top of a triangle of connections, favors, rewards, patronage. Religious groups range from the Cathoic Church to Jerry Falwell. Much of their power comes from their ability to frame a lot of the political choices people have as moral choices.
When the President has strong personality, he's the brain of the bear. When they're hunting, it's about cunning, but when the hunt is over it's about eating when he becomes the mouth and consumes with ferocious efficiency. He can, and will, turn and attack the wolves effortlessly, using his size, his ferocity, his claws to keep the wolves away from the carcass. If annoyed enough, or if opportunity presents itself, he would kill the wolves without hesitation.
The wolves, my Democrat friends, are only as powerful as they are focused and working as a pack, and the Democrats are about as focused as a pack of all alpha males who are likely to destroy each other before they get the carcass from the bear, and the bear is only an issue because they themselves want the carcass, not because they think bears are bad.
Me? I'm the raven who does his best to get a piece of meat every once in awhile without getting devoured by the bear or the wolves. America is not the carcass. The carcass is the government. Government is the source of wealth in this country. It's a trillion dollar pork. Republicans like to pretend that only Black women live off the government, but how much money did Halliburton, Vice President Cheney's former company, get in contracts for the reconstruction of Iraq? May we assume that they're making a profit? And when the oil in the Artic Wildlife Refuge is exploited, who makes the great wealth it will produce? My point is, the carcass, i.e., the government, is the source of wealth in this country, and it always has been. This was the richest fucking continent in the world, and it's taken us 400 years to exploit all of its wealth. The government has always facilitated that exploitation, from giving land to settlers, land as payment to soldiers, mineral rights to those willing to exploit them, but always it's been the government. America is just a collection of ideas that is used in the morality play put on the persuade voters. The carcass is the wealth. And everyone wants to eat. Each and every single one of us wants -- needs --- to get a part of the carcass. We can do it easy, or we can do it fiercely, but we must eat. Some of us are better at getting it than others. The raven watches for opportunity, jumps in, grabs a piece and retreats to a safe distance to eat. A hungry raven, however, will do small things to help the wolves.
Raven is not a bear or a wolf, so it doesn't matter to him which wins the fight. However, the show is more interesting when the fight is balanced, and if the wolves aren't able to keep the bear distracted, it would make it harder for Raven to get his occasional bit of meat. If the groups that control the religious vote had its way, they'd pass rules against ravens participating in the division of the carcass. They marginalize groups for very arbitrary reasons. So as a raven I want to keep the wolves in the game. For the past 30 years, I've voted Democrat, even though I'm not one. I would vote for a yellow dog if it ran for office as a Democrat, and I have, too. It may just be me, but I think they've run a lot of 'em lately.
I do not know what to tell the wolves to do to increase their effectiveness. First, I'm a raven and they're wolves and we are different species. We do not speak the same language. However, I do wish them well. Their ability to keep the contest equal gives me a better opportunity. I have an opinion, but I don't think it would help. It's something they got to figure out amongst themselves.
Did I mention that both sides play this out like it's a morality play. Each side portrays the battle as one that is morality based and that the other side is completely without morals. I do find this aspect of the play tedious. The message from the two groups is heavily weighted to place responsibility onto individuals, who respond by thinking the weight of the free world is on their shoulders, and whoever is on the other side is the enemy. Individuals tend to personalize things. It's just their nature. So they end up demonizing the other side.
This piece, as am I, is a work in progress. This is how it looked to me this morning, April 19, 2003 at 8:30 in the morning.
It is Easter week-end. Passover is also this week. I am sensitized to the fact that both religions are observing the core of their cultural traditions. Without Passover, there would be no Jews. Without Easter, there would be no Christians. I think the world is a better place because of the existence of both of these groups. Both sets of rituals enrich me, personally and individually. In combination, they have provided the prism by which I view the world around me, even if in my own mind I imagine that I have discarded them many years ago. No matter how much I think of myself as a new age Buddhist, I will always remember that we were once slaves in Egypt, all of us. Likewise I will always believe in the possibility of man's salvation which is offered by Christ's teachings.
My beliefs are not based on the myth of Jesus. I think he had a real focused ministry and taught people a technique with which to find inner peace in a world defined by conflict. From my understanding of his teachings, I know that how I perceive the world is based on how I perceive myself. If I am good, I will experience good, even when evil is all around me. If I am kind, I will know kind people. You encounter the energy you emit. Any chance we have to experience the kingdom of God, to be enlightened, to be at one with the universe, to be Here, Now, is to surrender ego and be a part of the universe. To me, this is not a destination but a way of living. It is not a reward in the hereafter for a virtuous life, but a daily experience, a reward unto itself.
Happy Easter.
Nobody really wants the Iraqis to have a democracy. Hold an election tomorrow and it becomes a mirror to Iran. You know, Saddam should have followed the Saudi model of Islamic despotism. The Saudi royals have just as much money, just as many palaces, just as many cousins in government jobs as Saddam did, just as much absolute control. The only difference is that they aren't psychotic, and Saddam and his group quickly became so. Okay, but that aside, if the Iraqis voted tomorrow they would create an Islamic, sharia judged, clerically ruled state that would systematically persecute Kurds, Sunni or Shiite -- it would depend on which group had the clerics and control of the democracy -- and the few Turkomen up near the Turkish border.
If we had democracy in this country, Al Gore would be President. Oh, fuck off, I'm not talking about the Florida debacle, I'm talking about democracy with a little d, the rule of the people there of. Gore got more votes. We are, however, a democratic republic. There is a set of rules and they are determined by democratically elected officials. It is not a total free for all. There are guarantees to which everyone agrees that protect the minority, or those not in power for the moment. In this country, we have evolved in the direction of giving everyone equal access to participation. We have rules that say one race cannot enslave minority races. We have rules that say sexes should have equal participation. We have enough rules to keep the political party in power from passing restrictions on the political party not in power.
Anyway, it's all very complex and a lot of real smart people have written about it and still, everybody keeps bandying the word about. Everybody talking about it, nobody meaning it.
Politics in America, or The Grizzily Bear and the Wolves
As in most competitions for power, there are really only two groups: those in power and those who want to be in power. The Republicans who are in power are represented by the grizzily bear and the Democrats who are out of power are represented as a pack of wolves. Within both groups are competing factions, interest groups, power centers, both organization and personal, and money. But what a prize! Whoever controls the government, controls trillions of dollars of wealth. You want a visual? Think of a giant moose carcass being fought over by a grizzily bear and a pack of starving wolves being watched by a raven. I'm the raven and that carcass is my supper, too. Neither the bear nor the wolves pay attention to me, but neither would hesitate to eat me if I happened to be easy or if I got their attention.
At present, the grizzily controls the government. Its head is George W. Bush, a real man who was born to the Republican ruling class, whose father also held the job of President, and whose grandfather was in the top elite of their ruling class in his generation. The level of power, the body and the arms and claws of the bear, just below the President is huge. The kind of entities that make up this part of the grizzily are varied between ideological and mercenary in their make-up. Ideological groups, such as neocons. Another example of ideological group with power would be the organized religions. Both have a world view and seek to influence decisions made that effect that view. Because the boundaries of this group are so nebulous, it's relation to power is just as vague. Personality based group would be Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. They sit at the top of a triangle of connections, favors, rewards, patronage. Religious groups range from the Cathoic Church to Jerry Falwell. Much of their power comes from their ability to frame a lot of the political choices people have as moral choices.
When the President has strong personality, he's the brain of the bear. When they're hunting, it's about cunning, but when the hunt is over it's about eating when he becomes the mouth and consumes with ferocious efficiency. He can, and will, turn and attack the wolves effortlessly, using his size, his ferocity, his claws to keep the wolves away from the carcass. If annoyed enough, or if opportunity presents itself, he would kill the wolves without hesitation.
The wolves, my Democrat friends, are only as powerful as they are focused and working as a pack, and the Democrats are about as focused as a pack of all alpha males who are likely to destroy each other before they get the carcass from the bear, and the bear is only an issue because they themselves want the carcass, not because they think bears are bad.
Me? I'm the raven who does his best to get a piece of meat every once in awhile without getting devoured by the bear or the wolves. America is not the carcass. The carcass is the government. Government is the source of wealth in this country. It's a trillion dollar pork. Republicans like to pretend that only Black women live off the government, but how much money did Halliburton, Vice President Cheney's former company, get in contracts for the reconstruction of Iraq? May we assume that they're making a profit? And when the oil in the Artic Wildlife Refuge is exploited, who makes the great wealth it will produce? My point is, the carcass, i.e., the government, is the source of wealth in this country, and it always has been. This was the richest fucking continent in the world, and it's taken us 400 years to exploit all of its wealth. The government has always facilitated that exploitation, from giving land to settlers, land as payment to soldiers, mineral rights to those willing to exploit them, but always it's been the government. America is just a collection of ideas that is used in the morality play put on the persuade voters. The carcass is the wealth. And everyone wants to eat. Each and every single one of us wants -- needs --- to get a part of the carcass. We can do it easy, or we can do it fiercely, but we must eat. Some of us are better at getting it than others. The raven watches for opportunity, jumps in, grabs a piece and retreats to a safe distance to eat. A hungry raven, however, will do small things to help the wolves.
Raven is not a bear or a wolf, so it doesn't matter to him which wins the fight. However, the show is more interesting when the fight is balanced, and if the wolves aren't able to keep the bear distracted, it would make it harder for Raven to get his occasional bit of meat. If the groups that control the religious vote had its way, they'd pass rules against ravens participating in the division of the carcass. They marginalize groups for very arbitrary reasons. So as a raven I want to keep the wolves in the game. For the past 30 years, I've voted Democrat, even though I'm not one. I would vote for a yellow dog if it ran for office as a Democrat, and I have, too. It may just be me, but I think they've run a lot of 'em lately.
I do not know what to tell the wolves to do to increase their effectiveness. First, I'm a raven and they're wolves and we are different species. We do not speak the same language. However, I do wish them well. Their ability to keep the contest equal gives me a better opportunity. I have an opinion, but I don't think it would help. It's something they got to figure out amongst themselves.
Did I mention that both sides play this out like it's a morality play. Each side portrays the battle as one that is morality based and that the other side is completely without morals. I do find this aspect of the play tedious. The message from the two groups is heavily weighted to place responsibility onto individuals, who respond by thinking the weight of the free world is on their shoulders, and whoever is on the other side is the enemy. Individuals tend to personalize things. It's just their nature. So they end up demonizing the other side.
This piece, as am I, is a work in progress. This is how it looked to me this morning, April 19, 2003 at 8:30 in the morning.
It is Easter week-end. Passover is also this week. I am sensitized to the fact that both religions are observing the core of their cultural traditions. Without Passover, there would be no Jews. Without Easter, there would be no Christians. I think the world is a better place because of the existence of both of these groups. Both sets of rituals enrich me, personally and individually. In combination, they have provided the prism by which I view the world around me, even if in my own mind I imagine that I have discarded them many years ago. No matter how much I think of myself as a new age Buddhist, I will always remember that we were once slaves in Egypt, all of us. Likewise I will always believe in the possibility of man's salvation which is offered by Christ's teachings.
My beliefs are not based on the myth of Jesus. I think he had a real focused ministry and taught people a technique with which to find inner peace in a world defined by conflict. From my understanding of his teachings, I know that how I perceive the world is based on how I perceive myself. If I am good, I will experience good, even when evil is all around me. If I am kind, I will know kind people. You encounter the energy you emit. Any chance we have to experience the kingdom of God, to be enlightened, to be at one with the universe, to be Here, Now, is to surrender ego and be a part of the universe. To me, this is not a destination but a way of living. It is not a reward in the hereafter for a virtuous life, but a daily experience, a reward unto itself.
Happy Easter.
Friday, April 18, 2003
Friday Night and Static on the Radio
They told us that the two bodies washed up over near Richmond (California) were Lacy Rocha and her baby, Connor. We've all known it since the bodies were found. What a low life sonofabitch. Scott Peterson killed both his wife and his son. Of course he did it. The mathmatical probability that a stranger abducted her and then disposed of her body only two miles from the marina Scott admitted to using to go fishing the day of her disappearance is only about a gazillion to one.
You know what I want? I want them to have him look at the bodies, all fresh from the autopsy and after 4 months in the Bay. Scott, is this Lacy? Scott, this is what Connor looked like. Your son, Scott. Doesn't he look just like you?
I started thinking he was guilty about a month or so after the disappearance. He never referred to the baby whom he and Laci had already named Connor. I never heard him say "my son." I'm sure he did say it at least once or twice subsequently, but not the first month. The reason I'm so sure is because it registered to me and I talked about it. I'm sure a lot of others noticed it, too. I'm sure the police noticed it.
Wow. Those guys, the police. I think they probably got this right. They probably went to the Rochas and said, we need you to be patient. He did it. If we charge him before it's right, he'll walk. Give us some time. He'll get sloppy. The bodies will be found. Someone will come forth with something useful. Please, be patient. Four months later, the bodies wash up. Today, 5 days later, a large piece of black plastic washed up in the vicinity of the bodies. If Scott can be linked to the plastic, it'll be a slam dunk. It's hard to convict someone entirely on circumstantial evidence. Hard, but not impossible. So far, though, I have a lot of respect for the competence of the people who will be presenting the People's case against that cursed man. I wish upon him the death met by William Wallace. In 1305 he was arrested by the English and hanged, then disemboweled, beheaded, and quartered. I think he was flayed, too, but I couldn't find that reference.
I guess that means I believe in the death penalty. Well, only when appropriate. I don't particularly like the process. I mean, it's important to be careful, but the system here in California is so lawyer-intensive that it's very inefficient. Scumbags who have been sentenced to die get an automatic appeal to the California Supreme Court that takes about 10 to 20 years to resolve. Okay, that's an exaggeration. What, wait, no it isn't. There are guys on death row who were tried back in the 80s. Last century, 80s. There are lots of reasons. But each reason takes about 2 or 3 years. Most of them are more likely to die of old age than they are by injection.
And this process that takes so long is doing exactly what it's supposed to do, delay the execution long enough to be sure it's not arbitrary. Hell, the only thing arbitrary is the delay. Justice delayed is justice denied. If you're going to execute the lousy bastard, do so quickly, like the do in Florida and Texas. To delay it 10 and 20 years puts the family of the victim(s) in pergatory for that period of time, and purgatory is painful.
Do it better or quit doing it. I'm tired of so much of my tax dollars being spent on the process. Either figure out a more cost efficient way, both in terms of money and time, or do away with it.
Something to think about.
They told us that the two bodies washed up over near Richmond (California) were Lacy Rocha and her baby, Connor. We've all known it since the bodies were found. What a low life sonofabitch. Scott Peterson killed both his wife and his son. Of course he did it. The mathmatical probability that a stranger abducted her and then disposed of her body only two miles from the marina Scott admitted to using to go fishing the day of her disappearance is only about a gazillion to one.
You know what I want? I want them to have him look at the bodies, all fresh from the autopsy and after 4 months in the Bay. Scott, is this Lacy? Scott, this is what Connor looked like. Your son, Scott. Doesn't he look just like you?
I started thinking he was guilty about a month or so after the disappearance. He never referred to the baby whom he and Laci had already named Connor. I never heard him say "my son." I'm sure he did say it at least once or twice subsequently, but not the first month. The reason I'm so sure is because it registered to me and I talked about it. I'm sure a lot of others noticed it, too. I'm sure the police noticed it.
Wow. Those guys, the police. I think they probably got this right. They probably went to the Rochas and said, we need you to be patient. He did it. If we charge him before it's right, he'll walk. Give us some time. He'll get sloppy. The bodies will be found. Someone will come forth with something useful. Please, be patient. Four months later, the bodies wash up. Today, 5 days later, a large piece of black plastic washed up in the vicinity of the bodies. If Scott can be linked to the plastic, it'll be a slam dunk. It's hard to convict someone entirely on circumstantial evidence. Hard, but not impossible. So far, though, I have a lot of respect for the competence of the people who will be presenting the People's case against that cursed man. I wish upon him the death met by William Wallace. In 1305 he was arrested by the English and hanged, then disemboweled, beheaded, and quartered. I think he was flayed, too, but I couldn't find that reference.
I guess that means I believe in the death penalty. Well, only when appropriate. I don't particularly like the process. I mean, it's important to be careful, but the system here in California is so lawyer-intensive that it's very inefficient. Scumbags who have been sentenced to die get an automatic appeal to the California Supreme Court that takes about 10 to 20 years to resolve. Okay, that's an exaggeration. What, wait, no it isn't. There are guys on death row who were tried back in the 80s. Last century, 80s. There are lots of reasons. But each reason takes about 2 or 3 years. Most of them are more likely to die of old age than they are by injection.
And this process that takes so long is doing exactly what it's supposed to do, delay the execution long enough to be sure it's not arbitrary. Hell, the only thing arbitrary is the delay. Justice delayed is justice denied. If you're going to execute the lousy bastard, do so quickly, like the do in Florida and Texas. To delay it 10 and 20 years puts the family of the victim(s) in pergatory for that period of time, and purgatory is painful.
Do it better or quit doing it. I'm tired of so much of my tax dollars being spent on the process. Either figure out a more cost efficient way, both in terms of money and time, or do away with it.
Something to think about.
Today I read, Tomorrow I write
Monkey mind here jumping about all over the blogsophere, reading the railings and rantings of my betters. My newest discovery and today's favorite new (to me) blog is Dancing with Dogs. It may be several people, but the person with whom I am most familiar is Shanti. Shanti has been my gateway to a bunch of blogs maintained by Asians, mostly Indians, I think. The more I'm exposed to Indian culture, the more I identify with it. At this point it's a romantic-like fixation, but who cares which key you use to open a door. The important point is that a new door is opened. Thank you Shanti over at Dancing with Dogs.
Monkey mind here jumping about all over the blogsophere, reading the railings and rantings of my betters. My newest discovery and today's favorite new (to me) blog is Dancing with Dogs. It may be several people, but the person with whom I am most familiar is Shanti. Shanti has been my gateway to a bunch of blogs maintained by Asians, mostly Indians, I think. The more I'm exposed to Indian culture, the more I identify with it. At this point it's a romantic-like fixation, but who cares which key you use to open a door. The important point is that a new door is opened. Thank you Shanti over at Dancing with Dogs.
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
Travel Advisory for France
From a friend in Chicago.
Travel advisory for Americans heading for France The following advisory for American travelers heading for France was compiled from information provided by the U.S. State Department, the Central Intelligence Agency, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the Food and Drug Administration, the Center for Disease Control and some very expensive spy satellites that the French don't know about. It is intended as a guide for American travelers only and no guarantee of accuracy is ensured or intended.
General Overview
France is a medium-sized foreign country situated on the continent of Europe, and is, for all intents and purposes, fucking useless. It is an important member of the world community, although not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland, and some smaller nations of no particular consequence or shopping opportunities. France is a very old country with many treasures such as the Louvre and EuroDisney. Among its contributions to Western civilization are champagne, Camembert cheese, the guillotine, and body odor. Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible to get decent Mexican food. One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that the people willfully persist in speaking French, although many will speak English if shouted at repeatedly.
The People
France has a population of 54 million people, most of whom drink and smoke a great deal, drive like lunatics, are dangerously over-sexed and have no concept of standing patiently in a line. The French people are generally gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof and undisciplined; those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, although you'd hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are Communists and topless sunbathing is common. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie and they kiss each other when they hand out medals.. American travelers are advised to travel in groups and to wear baseball caps and colorful pants for easier mutual recognition. All French women have small tits, and don't shave their armpits or their legs.
Safety
In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers are advised that France is occasionally invaded by Germany. By tradition, the French surrender more or less at once and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whisky and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the visitors generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English Channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the French government to flee to London.
History
France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport. The French armies of the past have had their asses kicked by just about every other country in the world.
Government
The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously and always result in a runoff. For administrative purposes, the country is divided into regions, departments, districts, municipalities, cantons, communes, villages, cafes, booths and floor tiles. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower (although, confusingly, they are both on the ground floor), whose members are either Gaullists or communists, neither of whom can be trusted. Parliament's principal preoccupations are setting off atomic bombs in the South Pacific and acting indignant when anyone complains. According to the most current State Department intelligence, the current President is someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time.
Culture
The French pride themselves on their culture, although it is not easy to see why. All of their songs sound the same and they have hardly ever made a movie that you want to watch for anything except the nude scenes. Nothing, of course, is more boring than a French novel (except perhaps an evening with a French family.)
Cuisine
Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants, on the other hand, are excellent although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. American travelers are therefore advised to stick to cheeseburgers at McDonald's or the restaurants at the leading hotels such as Sheraton or Holiday Inn. Bring your own beer, as the domestic varieties are nothing but a poor excuse for such.
Economy
France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's economy in Europe, which is surprising since people hardly ever work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, high-caliber weaponry, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese.
Conclusion
France enjoys a rich history, a picturesque and varied landscape and a temperate climate. In short, it would be a very nice country if French people didn't inhabit it, and it weren't still radioactive from all the nuclear tests they run. The best thing that can be said for it is that it is not Spain. Remember no one ordered you to go abroad. Personally, we always take our vacation in Oklahoma City and you are advised to do the same.
From a friend in Chicago.
Travel advisory for Americans heading for France The following advisory for American travelers heading for France was compiled from information provided by the U.S. State Department, the Central Intelligence Agency, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the Food and Drug Administration, the Center for Disease Control and some very expensive spy satellites that the French don't know about. It is intended as a guide for American travelers only and no guarantee of accuracy is ensured or intended.
General Overview
France is a medium-sized foreign country situated on the continent of Europe, and is, for all intents and purposes, fucking useless. It is an important member of the world community, although not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland, and some smaller nations of no particular consequence or shopping opportunities. France is a very old country with many treasures such as the Louvre and EuroDisney. Among its contributions to Western civilization are champagne, Camembert cheese, the guillotine, and body odor. Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible to get decent Mexican food. One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that the people willfully persist in speaking French, although many will speak English if shouted at repeatedly.
The People
France has a population of 54 million people, most of whom drink and smoke a great deal, drive like lunatics, are dangerously over-sexed and have no concept of standing patiently in a line. The French people are generally gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof and undisciplined; those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, although you'd hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are Communists and topless sunbathing is common. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie and they kiss each other when they hand out medals.. American travelers are advised to travel in groups and to wear baseball caps and colorful pants for easier mutual recognition. All French women have small tits, and don't shave their armpits or their legs.
Safety
In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers are advised that France is occasionally invaded by Germany. By tradition, the French surrender more or less at once and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whisky and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the visitors generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English Channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the French government to flee to London.
History
France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport. The French armies of the past have had their asses kicked by just about every other country in the world.
Government
The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously and always result in a runoff. For administrative purposes, the country is divided into regions, departments, districts, municipalities, cantons, communes, villages, cafes, booths and floor tiles. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower (although, confusingly, they are both on the ground floor), whose members are either Gaullists or communists, neither of whom can be trusted. Parliament's principal preoccupations are setting off atomic bombs in the South Pacific and acting indignant when anyone complains. According to the most current State Department intelligence, the current President is someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time.
Culture
The French pride themselves on their culture, although it is not easy to see why. All of their songs sound the same and they have hardly ever made a movie that you want to watch for anything except the nude scenes. Nothing, of course, is more boring than a French novel (except perhaps an evening with a French family.)
Cuisine
Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants, on the other hand, are excellent although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. American travelers are therefore advised to stick to cheeseburgers at McDonald's or the restaurants at the leading hotels such as Sheraton or Holiday Inn. Bring your own beer, as the domestic varieties are nothing but a poor excuse for such.
Economy
France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's economy in Europe, which is surprising since people hardly ever work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, high-caliber weaponry, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese.
Conclusion
France enjoys a rich history, a picturesque and varied landscape and a temperate climate. In short, it would be a very nice country if French people didn't inhabit it, and it weren't still radioactive from all the nuclear tests they run. The best thing that can be said for it is that it is not Spain. Remember no one ordered you to go abroad. Personally, we always take our vacation in Oklahoma City and you are advised to do the same.
My Blog Roll Grows
I added another couple of blogs to my blogroll. In introducing my blogroll, I'm taking a clue from The Talking Dog, a blogger who slips blog reviews in between his political commentary. His real name is Seth. Seth thinks I'm a hardcore rightwinger, just because I told him that as a liberal he would probably die and go to hell. BWAHAHAHAHAHA. Not a rightwinger, Seth, just more conservative than most of my neighbors. Okay, more conservative than all of my neighbors. I'm not really a conservative, you know. I'm a Texas Populist Libertarian. We dislike liberals and conservatives. Back to blogrolling: whenI add a new blog to my roll, I'm going to give a brief introduction and tell you why I've added them. Hope you don't mind, Seth. Immitation is a sincere form of flattery.
There is no rhyme nor reason to my list. It's just whomever I find interesting or entertaining at the moment. Today I've added Magnifisyncopathological. This blog is written by a dude whose last name is Drizzten, although it's really just a guess. The blog allows for quite a bit of fuzziness when it comes to names and identities. What I can tell you about "Drizz" is that he lives in Austin, Texas, and he has an edge to his writings and observations. I came across his blog while visiting a blog from Australia. If you visit him, you're going to come away knowing more than you did before you visited him, and you'll be better for it. Be sure to say hi, and that rlbtzero (that's pronounced Ray)(no, really, that's how it's pronounced) says hi.
I added another couple of blogs to my blogroll. In introducing my blogroll, I'm taking a clue from The Talking Dog, a blogger who slips blog reviews in between his political commentary. His real name is Seth. Seth thinks I'm a hardcore rightwinger, just because I told him that as a liberal he would probably die and go to hell. BWAHAHAHAHAHA. Not a rightwinger, Seth, just more conservative than most of my neighbors. Okay, more conservative than all of my neighbors. I'm not really a conservative, you know. I'm a Texas Populist Libertarian. We dislike liberals and conservatives. Back to blogrolling: whenI add a new blog to my roll, I'm going to give a brief introduction and tell you why I've added them. Hope you don't mind, Seth. Immitation is a sincere form of flattery.
There is no rhyme nor reason to my list. It's just whomever I find interesting or entertaining at the moment. Today I've added Magnifisyncopathological. This blog is written by a dude whose last name is Drizzten, although it's really just a guess. The blog allows for quite a bit of fuzziness when it comes to names and identities. What I can tell you about "Drizz" is that he lives in Austin, Texas, and he has an edge to his writings and observations. I came across his blog while visiting a blog from Australia. If you visit him, you're going to come away knowing more than you did before you visited him, and you'll be better for it. Be sure to say hi, and that rlbtzero (that's pronounced Ray)(no, really, that's how it's pronounced) says hi.