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Yep, I've quoted this poem before -- but it's so good, it deserves a repeat showing.
Common Magic
Bronwen Wallace
Your best friend falls in love
and her brain turns to water.
You can watch her lips move,
making the customary sounds,
but you can see they're merely
words, flimsy as bubbles rising
from some golden sea where she
swims sleek and exotic as a mermaid.
It's always like that.
You stop for lunch in a crowded
restaurant and the waitress floats
toward you. You can tell she doesn't care
whether you have the baked or french-fried
and you wonder if your voice comes
in bubbles too.
It's not women either. Or love
for that matter. The old man
across from you on the bus holds
a young child on his knee; he is singing
to her and his voice is a small boy
turning somersaults in the green
country of his blood.
It's only when the driver calls his stop
that he emerges into this puzzle
of brick and tiny hedges. Only then
you notice his shaking hands, his need
of the child to guide him home.
All over the city
you move in your own seasons
through the seasons of others: old women faces
clawed by weather you can't feel
clack dry tongues at passersby
while adolescente seethe
in their glassy atmospheres of anger.
In parks, the children
are alien life-forms, rooted
in the galaxies they're grown through
to get here. Their games weave
the interface and their laughter
tickles that part of your brain where smells
are hidden and the nuzzling textures of things.
It's a wonder that anything gets done
at all: a mechanic flails
at the muffler of your car
through whatever storm he's trapped inside
and the mailman stares at numbers
from the haze of a distant summer.
Yet somehow letters arrive and buses
remember their routes. Banks balance.
Mangoes ripen on the supermarket shelves.
Everyone manages. You gulp the thin air
of this planet as if it were the only
one you knew. Even the earth you're
standing on seems solid enough.
It's always the chance word, unthinking
gesture that unlocks the face before you.
Reveals intricate countries
deep within the eyes. The hidden
lives, like sudden miracles,
that breathe there.
I love it.
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Waaaaay too beautiful outside to do anything productive.
I'm playing hooky.
Any takers?
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Mmmm, delicious irony.
Buy ME to buck brand loyalty and consumeristic
trends in society today. Wait a second...
Part of me thinks it's hilarious that Adbusters is hawking their own product for sale, the black spot sneaker.
Yeah, so it's partly done to thumb their noses at Nike and other sneaker companies -- but in the process, they've created their own brand and their own consumeristic following.
... and doesn't that defeat their whole purpose? Hmmm.
Anyway, TV Turnoff Week is April 19-25. Mark your calendars. (if I only watch Daily Show, will it still count? A grrrl has got to get her fake-news on, doesn't she?)
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Fun song overheard whilst typing in the library.
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Remember when this happened last year?
Well, the window that was replaced is now officially faulty. The siding on well, the side, came completely unglued -- making it nearly impossible to roll my window up/down.
I took it to the glass place today, wary that it would cost me money I don't have -- but it's still under warranty! Woohoo! You see, my luck with warranties usually is that I return to the place where I bought something... only to discover the warranty ran out yesterday. Not so today. The people at the glass place were very nice, and I'll have a new window installed tomorrow -- so I can enjoy rolling it down to feel the Spring wind on my face again.
Now to finish this lovely book review I can't wait to have behind me.
ttfn.
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I love deadlines. I especially like the whooshing sound they make as they go flying by. (Douglas Adams)
Two items knocked off my list to the left. Well, technically only one of them is completely finished (the scholarship app). Ideally, the book review will be completed as of the end of class tomorrow.
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Happy, happy. Joy, joy. (or, little things that made my day)
Tonight, it was eating pitas with two awesome grrrlfriends. The recipe to my heart: Chicken, lettuce, tomato, green pepper, extra hot peppers, cheddar cheese, and extra tzatziki. (just in case you're curious) Oh, and top that off with a cute pita-boy wrapping it -- YUM. Seriously, I could probably eat pitas every day of the week and not be upset.
I also inadvertently found a soccer club to join this summer. It's a girls team, called the Titans. According to a girl I work out with at my gym, the team is looking for new players for the summer season. I can't wait to start playing again. Now I just have to be patient enough until May, when the team starts its outside season. Between my jaunts to the gym and playing soccer this summer, here's to me shrinking further!
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My Freehouse experience. Tonight we were supposed to be "creative" and explore our relationship with God via the unspoken word. Here's what I came up with:
Everything in my collage is taken from National Geographic magazines -- which felt sacrilegious enough, ripping beautiful pictures from an almost sacred anthropological source.
I'm not exactly sure how to explain what all is going on in my picture -- there's images or words of doubt, reassurance, memory, solitude, and comfort.
My favorite part of the collage is the picture of a rear-view mirror with the image of an old-timey church in the reflection. It reminds me that no matter where I go, or what path I choose in life, there's an aspect of my faith that will always follow me. Yep, there's a whole lotta bad associated with that image -- but tonight, through a long conversation with someone I respect, I realize there's some good in there too.
Unfortunately, it's after 2AM and I have a full day of school tomorrow. Musing to be continued.
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[graduate student insecurity]
Am I losing my ability to sustain thought for extended periods of time? Today I stranded myself in my office, in order to finish reading Delwin Brown's Boundaries of Our Habitations: Tradition and Theological Construction. I did fairly well, nearly finishing it. I'm especially slow, due to the fact I'm a copious notetaker.
But I found that I could only go for about an hour or so at a time, before my eyes started to cross or I couldn't comprehend what my eyes ran across. At that point, I'd get up, check my email for the umpteenth time, grab a coffee, download a new ring tone for my phone (at present it's "Cruella De Vil"), or go listen to the end of the NASCAR race.
Somehow I remember a time when my attention span wasn't so short. Aren't I *supposed* to be getting better at this academic lifestyle? I feel like I'm slipping, and that's just not an option at this point in the term.
ugh.
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Worship Freehouse tonight at 8PM, on campus at the College of Emmanuel St. Chad, right off College Drive.
Be there or be a parallelogram.
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dang it, Natalie Merchant. Why are your lyrics so distracting? (and so good?!)
The Worst Thing
Natalie Merchant
So you're in love, that's so good for you.
Live it up girl 'cause it never lasts long.
It's heaven for now but not for long.
It's gonna hurt you, it's going to make you feel so bad.
Once I could love, I could trust, I could not doubt
But that was just about the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.
Maybe not now, but it won't take long
Before it's gonna hurt you and truly do you some harm.
Once I was open, could hope, I had no doubt
but that was the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.
Once I came close to that most elusive fire burning with hopeless love and desire
But it was just about the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.
En el pasado estuve ciega como tu.
Atrapada y perdida como tu.
Embelesada y suspendida en mi jaula de plata.
Esos recuerdos te acompanaran toda la vida.
(In the past I was blind as you
Trapped and lost like you with no escape
Suspended in my silver cage.
These memories will remain with you forever.)
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Woah.
Noam Chomsky has his own blog. (via Jordon)
Okay, really sitting down to read now.
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Today I played my first game of curling. I think that it's safe to say I was the anchor of the team -- especially if you mean anchor as the thing that sinks and brings things down with it.
But it was fun. My right knee is blue now, from learning how to throw rocks correctly -- but at least by the end of the afternoon, I could (somewhat) get my rocks where I wanted.
Oh, and I think I have met the very first native Saskatchewan person who has never curled in his life. In the two years I've lived up here, every native Saskatchewanite I've come across has curled at one point in his or her life. I can now say I've met an exception. I can also say that he kicked my ass when learning how to play.
I think I'll keep my sports to ones that are warm and non-slippery.
(more pictures from the experience on my photopage)
I also hung out with R and saw Jersey Girl. I think, for the first time in my life, I actually shushed someone in a theatre. They weren't too pleased -- but PLEASE. If you need to talk during a movie (especially during a quiet scene), wait til the freaking movie comes out on video. Don't disturb my viewing experience with your petty comments.
Yes, that sounds especially crabby, but I just don't excuse that type of behavior. Movies cost too much to go to nowadays to be ruined by someones else's rudeness. Then again, the people sitting in front of me thought enough of the film to bring their 8 and 9 year old kids to an adult movie with cussing and in-depth discussion of porn rentals. That should say something about their judgement.
Anyway, the film was okay, while disappointing when comparing it to other Kevin Smith movies. The kid was cute, and I really liked Liv Tyler's character -- she reminded me of me, often saying what comes to mind without thinking of its implications. I'd recommend the film for a matinee or cheap theatre price, but not a full price ticket.
And now I really should finish the book I'm supposed to be giving a book review of on Tuesday. Which is only 3 days away -- cutting it pretty close, even for a professional procrastinator like myself.
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Pardon me whilst I toot my own horn.
So I'm finishing a scholarship application for Interdisciplinary Studies (cross your fingers that I'll get some financial aid for next year, will ya?) -- and I had to dig up a journal article I had published in 2002, in order to list it under my Research Contributions.
Yep, I've been published! My senior undergrad year I won a student writing competition and was published in the Fall 2002 High Plains Applied Anthropologist journal. The title of my paper was "Composition in the Age of the Dot-Com: How One Virtual Community Served as a Collaborative Learning Group in Response to the Events of September 11, 2001" Yeah, it's a long title -- I'm still in the process of learning the art of brevity.
I just finished reading through what I wrote. I think it's a bit of a treat to be away from your own writing, if only to revisit it months later. Reading through the article, I was reminded of the whole writing process I went through in composing it. I also realize now how destined I was to be a rhetorician -- pragmatic communication is inherent throughout the article! I could easily slip in theories of Burke or Brummett as support for some of the claims I make.
I wrote this article as my senior Honors project, two years ago. It's amazing how much has happened since then. Like my thesis work on Revolve, much of this paper was a cathartic experience -- I was writing about my own experience dealing with a national tragedy, within an online community I was a part of.
As I read through the 10 or so typed pages, I was reminiscing on all sorts of levels. Not only that, but I felt a twinge of pride, looking over at what I had written. Mini-ego boosts are nice (albeit rare) in grad school, so I think I'll file away these feelings away for later on in the month when I'm absolutely swamped with work and questioning my abilities.
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She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she's always a woman to me
She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
Yeah, she steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
But she can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
And she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
Who knew Billy Joel had a song about me? Okay, maybe not. But I do love these lyrics.
It's frozen raining and snowing outside right now. I foresee a bath, a book, and an early bedtime in my near future. After last night (and early morning) and my spin/cardio class tonight, I'm wiped. out.
ttfn!
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Three words: Internet. Geek. Heaven.
Tonight Mike and Matt Chapman, the creators of the infamous Homestar Runner came to the campus pub, Louis'. It's only the second show they've done, ever -- and they came to the University of Saskatchewan (!?!).
What a good show! A huge group of us got there early, so we were front-center of it all. And get this -- the Brothers Chaps are from Georgia! Fellow Georgia boys, yay!!
Me, Matt Chapman, Rilla, and Jeff
(props to Jeff for the handy photoshoppin')
The coolest thing about the Brothers Chaps are that they're so down to earth. For the two hours they showed clips and talked, it was like we were in their living room chilling out. Granted, Louis' was sold out and filled to capacity, but it didn't feel like that so much. Then again, we were in the very front, with amazing seats and view of everything that went on.
Me and Mike Chapman (do SO dig the glasses)
After it was all over, we snuck up on stage and talked to them for almost 10 minutes. They were definitely surprised to meet another Georgian this far north. But they were super nice.
Another thing I admire about 'em is the fact that they're not selling themselves out -- yeah, they have merchandise, but you won't be seeing them hawking Coke products on TV or movie screens anytime soon. And forget about seeing any type of banner-ad or pop-up on their site. They figure when people stop liking the comic, or it gets to be too much of a financial burden -- they'll quit. I don't think they'll be quitting any time soon, if tonight's any indication!
Anyway, the whole night was just hilarious. I think my ribs are going to be sore tomorrow from laughing so hard. Literally. I'm forever a groupie now.
This was *just* what I needed. Yay.
You know I had to do a photopage documenting this.
Ugh, now to sleep! Appointment with thesis supervisor in the morning. I'll sleep well, for sure.
btw, Jeff and I get bonus geek points for posting about this before sleep. A wiser person woulda waited until morning.
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No fair.
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irony: A condition of affairs or events of a character opposite to what was, or might naturally be, expected; a contradictory outcome of events as if in mockery of the promise and fitness of things.
Irony is looking outside at the snowstorm and wondering why you thought yesterday was Spring-like. Ah, Saskatchewan.
Irony is realizing yesterday you were complaining about mud. Now you're covered in snow.
Irony is having the power go out in the Engineering building, consequently cancelling your Rhetoric class this afternoon.
Irony is talking with someone with over $5000 to travel this summer, and then hearing he'd rather stay in Saskatchewan than go to South Africa.
Irony is me being overwhelmed with schoolwork and going home at 3:00 to watch Oprah and squeeze in a nap.
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Do you ever get the feeling that your life is being broadcast somewhere, for someone else's enjoyment?
Am I part of some cosmic sitcom? Or worse yet -- am I some Sunday night Made-For-TV movie?!
I'm going to be wondering all day what actress will play me. There's a difference between who I'd want to play me, and who'd actually be assigned the part.
And with that, I'm officially late for my Thursday morning meeting.
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I'm borrowing Adam's bitterness monkey.
Like me, don't let that cute exterior fool ya!
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Chocolate. Mass quantities.
Send. now.
Why is it that I get these cravings at the absolute worst times of the day? There's not even anyone here that I can rationalize splitting a chocolate bar/cookie/something with. Le sigh.
Perhaps I'll console myself with Courtney Love's latest. Good mood music! Listening to this now reminds me of my angsty teenage years, secluding myself in my room and cranking up Hole -- much to my parents' delight.
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Today felt like Spring! If I didn't have to be inside all day, I would have gone mud-puddle jumping all day. Well, if I didn't happen to be loving my jeans and shoes as well. Perhaps I'll haveta schedule a mud-outing in my future, Woodstock-esque. Saskatoon has no shortage of the stuff now, for sure.
There's nothing like the feeling of being able to walk out of the house with only 2 layers of clothing, rather than the usual cumbersome jacket. I can't wait until I can wear sandals again!
My CSSR presentation went well, while I breezed by it entirely too quickly. That was semi-purposeful, considering I wasn't going for actual presentation-style points, but for actual content. Everyone seemed fairly pleased with it -- which means that's one less burden off the school things to do list.
Tonight it looks to be a quiet night by myself, absorbing Survivor and then diving headfirst into more Delwin Brown.
Tomorrow night is the big Homestar Runner/Brothers Chaps presentation at Louis. This is a fairly huge deal, that they'd come out here to talk. Maybe I should do some more academic "research" to prepare myself. Definitely sounds more fun than studying constructive historicism.
I think I'm starting to see some light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel. I've had a pretty crummy past couple weeks -- but I've made a personal realization that I think will carry me through.
If not, well then don't be surprised if I pull a "Gulliver" and buy a couple horses and start talking to them, rather than the Yahoos in my life right now.
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You are worth exactly: $1,592,870.00.
We hope you can find somebody who is wealthy enough to afford you.
As do I. At this rate the lucky individual better be ready to pay up in a whole bunch of areas.
How much are you worth?
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Peep-a-boo
My very first roommate had an obsession with this candy, for some reason. It was one attribute in a long list that made you question her sanity.
 So in celebration of the upcoming candy-centered holiday that is Easter, I give you a Peep-minded post.
Now YOU can make your own inedible Easter candy: Marshmallow Peeps Candy Maker.
And while we're on the subject, here's some computer generated Peeps art.
Boing boing mentions an office prank that covered some fortunate soul's office space entirely in Peepy goodness. From ceiling to desk to the lamp, there's Peeps everywhere. Apparently they kept the Peep decor for a couple years.
A couple of old Peep favorite links:
Peep Research. It's an educational venture: Those resilient little birds... As we plunge into the 21st century, it is time we take a closer look at the technological wonders we create. Here, we try to discover just a little bit more about the world around us through the miracles of science, technology, and preservatives. This one is for all you scientifically minded people.
My personal favorite: Lord of the Peeps. A couple of these shots make awesome desktop wallpaper. I ask you, how can you go wrong, having marshmallow candy reenact a literary classic?
There's even a Peeps entry in Wikipedia!
Forget hamsters, watch some techno-loving dancing Peeps instead.
Okay, this is getting ridiculous: Peep Haiku.
Great moments in Rock and Roll history, as reenacted by Marshmallow Peeps. Who can forget Elvis Peepsley's gyrations and Sgt. Peeper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?
Yikes, how many Peeps links are there?
Recipe for Peep Waldorf Salad.
Peeps Karaoke: Nuke, nuke, nuke your peeps
With prejudice supreme
Pop them in your microwave
And listen to them scream.
And for the truly sadistic: For my Peeps -- watch a quicktime video of a Peep blowing up in the microwave. I *so* have to try this myself, it's bound to get me out of this funk.
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As I'm working on my CSSR practice presentation for tomorrow, I'm being viciously distracted by good songs on WNRN.
There's Jem (not of the Holograms fame) and her song They:
Who made up all the rules
We follow them like fools
Believe them to be true
Don't Care to think them through
And I’m sorry so sorry
I’m sorry it’s like this
I’m sorry so sorry
I’m sorry we do this
Her album is only 7 bucks on Amazon. I may haveta invest in it after I get paid next week.
And of course, a song by Dave Matthews that just gives me tingles.
The world is blowing up
The world is caving in
The world has lost her way again
But you are here with me
But you are here with me
Makes it ok
[...]
I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
Love you oh so well
True, it's no TS Eliot or ee cummings -- but maybe I'm more sentimental when I'm overwhelmed and stressed, because I had to actually stop typing and just listen when this song played. It must be quite a sight to see someone get weepy while staring at a computer screen in a crowded school library.
EDIT: Another song of note, heard on the way home: Joseph Arthur's Honey and the Moon, particularly this line:
But right now / Everything you want is wrong, / And right now / All your dreams are waking up.
It's odd how much music can speak to you, and pointedly address whatever state of mind you're in.
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I'm up before 7AM?
I must be coming down with something or something must be coming down with me.
(even when crabby I can still appreciate a chiasmus, albeit a bad one)
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In this month's Adbusters:
From Tom Robbins' Half Asleep in Frog Pyjamas:
"The lie of progress. The lie of unlimited expansion. The lie of 'grow or perish.' Listen. We built ourselves a fine commercial bonfire, but then instead of basking in warmth, toasting marshmallows over it, and reading the classics by its light, we became obsessed with making it bigger and hotter, bigger and hotter, until, if the flames didn't leap higher from one quarter to the next, it was cause for great worry and dissatisfaction. Well any Bozo on the riverbank could have told us that if you keep feeding and feeding and feeding a bonfire, sooner or later you burn up all the fuel and the fire goes down cold; or else the fire gets too huge to manage and eventually engulfs the countryside and chars the inhabitants. Nature has always set limits on growth: limits on the physical size of individual species, limits on the size of populations. Did we really believe capitalism was exempt from the laws of nature? Did we really confuse endless consumption with endless progress?"
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Here's a gem Sylvia shared in the comments:
"It was great fun; trashing the arguments of senior scholars who are making eighty times your annual stipend is one of the few compensations of grad-student serfdom."
-- Susan Wise Bauer, "The Well-Educated Mind"
Serf sounds about right. |
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It's a vicious cycle.
So, instance #3 of me putting my foot inevitably in my mouth.
Rewind to last night. Before supper, I decide to treat myself to a brand new issue of Adbusters and some new Burt's Bees at McNally Robinson. Actually, I spent about 15 minutes debating between buy the latest Ms. and Adbusters, but decided on the latter -- mainly because I'm upset enough already without getting further enraged reading about the state of women in my country and around the world.
But, back to the part where I make an ass of myself, yet again.
So I'm in the line to check out, and there's a guy with a The Cheat tee shirt on, ringing people out. I'm next in line, and proceed to start talking to the guy about the Brothers Chaps coming in town this Thursday, asking him if he was going to go or not. We talked the entire time about 'em, I get my stuff, proceed out of the store.
That's not the funny part. That part is me going to Rilla's weblog and putting on her tag board that I flirted with a guy wearing a Cheat shirt about Thursday night. I put "flirted." And -- it turns out this guy is none other than Ril's best friend Carrie's hubby, Cory.
I'm such a dork. Is it considered flirting if you compliment a guy on his shirt and talk about Homestar Runner? Maybe I was just showing some Southern hospitality. Yeah, that's it!
Now taking bets on the next hugely embarrassing episode to be inspired by me opening my big mouth. The odds are decidely in that favor.
Maybe that vow of silence isn't that bad of an idea, after all...
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[Warning: Largely introspective post ahead. Get out while you can.]
What am I?
When the guys in suits come around every 10 years or so, looking for me to fill out a Religion Census Survey, which box do I check?
I don't know anymore.
My whole life, until -- oh, say 3 years ago, I coulda checked the "Christian" box. But lots of things happened in my life that took me off that particular path. I don't regret not being classified as that anymore, really.
For a while I thought I'd flipflop over to the other extreme and consider myself Pagan. There's lots of attraction to that for me -- I love being outside, I love the openness of the religion, I love celebrating different festivals, I love the emphasis on the feminine as well as the masculine in life, etc. But now I'm not even sure I'd classify as that anymore, either.
I guess I'm in an areligious mode right now. I'm areligious, but I'd still consider myself spiritual. Make sense? It's just the details I need to work out.
For a long time I thought that identity was formed by figuring and listing the qualities of what you can claim about your self. Now I realize that your identity can be formed just as adequately by figuring out what characteristics you're not.
Part of Kenneth Burke's Definition of Human includes the assertion that we are the "inventors of the negative." This is where I should explain what I mean by inventor of the negative -- but I'm still trying to wrap my own head around it, so I doubt I'd get very far.
Here's is David Blakesley's explanation: Burke asserts that "language and the negative 'invented' man." Building upon Bergson, Burke is "here concerned with the fact that there are no negatives in nature, and that this ingenious addition to the universe is solely a product of human symbol systems." In nature, everything "simply is what it is and as it is" (9). For example, there is no such thing as a "not-tree" in nature. There is only the tree and other things surrounding it, such as flowers, grass, weeds, and so forth. It takes the human imagination, reason, and above all language to describe these other things as "not-tree."
[...]Beyond the moral and ethical dimensions of the human use of the negative, however, Burke notes that "There is an implied sense of negativity in the ability to use words at all. For to use them properly, we must know that they are not the things they stand for" (12). Here, Burke echoes Saussure's famous distinction between the signifier and the signified, the idea that the word is not the thing. As humans evolve greater and greater abstractions through language, we often forget this distinction, and we make the mistake of forgetting that "metaphor is not literal" (12). Thus in our various religious systems, for example, we forget that symbolic actions (such as the crucifixion and resurrection) are metaphors, and we get caught up in literal interpretations. We also forget that "religions are so often built antithetically to other persuasions" (12). Thus Christianity arises in opposition to paganism, Islam in opposition to Christianity, Protestantism in opposition to Catholicism, and so forth. We define our beliefs in contrast with other systems of belief, by asserting that "our" beliefs are not "theirs." This principle equally applies to non-religious systems of thought; for example, I am a Democrat (not a Republican); I believe in Evolution (not Creationism); I am a Jew (not an Arab); I am a Post-structuralist (not a New Critic) and so on. Each statement of a positive term necessarily implies its negative counter-statement.
After that quick Burke distraction, back to the task at hand. Things I know I'm not or aspects of faith I do not claim: I don't believe in any type of exclusivity in any type of religion. Just because I was fortunate enough to be born in a Western country that favors Christianity as its religion over Hinduism doesn't mean I have the right to look at devout Muslims and consider them less "right" than myself. That also means I don't have to worry about people being condemned to hell or some other unpleasant place because they don't believe in a particular tenant of my faith.
I also know that I'm not a horrible, condemned person. I'm not depraved, not verging on the cliffs of hell, waiting for someone to save me from damnnation. I remember reading these works of the Puritans in my American Lit class and being astounded at how awful they viewed themselves. It was like they were already condemned, just by virtue of being born. Who wants to live their lives under this type of shadow? Not me.
I do not believe that men are in an elevated position over women. Nor do I believe women are better than men (though sometimes it's tempting to think so!). Equality. Alongside (not behind) every good man is a good woman. Men do not have the spiritual upperhand and I should be able to hear and appreciate a woman preach from behind a pulpit as I can a man.
Which brings me to now. My spiritual limbo. I can't deny aspects of myself that have been ingrained with me. While I do have bitterness, much of that is directed more to the followers of Christ than to the religion or man himself. I don't have the time or energy to read up in order to pick up a new religious stream -- I have books and books just waiting to be read, and I never get very far.
So I guess I keep looking. And somehow I'll figure out what I should tell those guys in suits, next time they come around asking.
I do welcome comments on this -- as long as they're light on the proselytizing and you play nice.
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How delightful.
Imood has a "misanthropic" option in its list of adjectives.
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Grrrl Meets World is now the #1 Google result for "I'm living off of Tim Horton roll up the rims."
Considering I've won one free donut after about 25 double doubles, that would explain why I'm so freakin' broke.
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... it's easy if you try. Or if you click here.
Both are definitely easier than a chance of world peace at this point, anyway.
Israeli Airstrike Kills Hamas Founder
Militants Raid Pakistani Camp Despite Truce
Attacks Kill Two GIs, Two Iraqi Civilians
Fun-Loving Madrid in Mourning for Attacks
U.S. Marines Shoot, Wound 2 Men in Haiti
This weekend marked the year-anniversary of the Iraq war part deux. Let us not forget the president's words regarding this anniversary:
"There have been disagreements in this matter, among old and valued friends. Those differences belong to the past. All of us can now agree that the fall of the Iraqi dictator has removed a source of violence, aggression, and instability in the Middle East. It's a good thing that the demands of the United Nations were enforced, not ignored with impunity. It is a good thing that years of illicit weapons development by the dictator have come to the end. It is a good thing that the Iraqi people are now receiving aid, instead of suffering under sanctions. And it is a good thing that the men and women across the Middle East, looking to Iraq, are getting a glimpse of what life in a free country can be like.
There are still violent thugs and murderers in Iraq, and we're dealing with them. But no one can argue that the Iraqi people would be better off with the thugs and murderers back in the palaces. Who would prefer that Saddam's torture chambers still be open? Who would wish that more mass graves were still being filled? Who would begrudge the Iraqi people their long-awaited liberation? On year after the armies of liberation arrived, every soldier who has fought, every aid worker who has served, every Iraqi who has joined in their country's defense can look with pride on a brave and historic achievement. They've served freedom's cause, and that is a privilege."
I wonder how "privileged" the families of the killed feel, after waging an unsubstantiated war? Sigh.
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Kevin's currently in 8th place, I'm stuck at school reading, but now I'm taking a quick break to listen to the last 14 laps at Darlington.
It's been an interesting while very long week. I've had a couple of ups, but mainly a lot of downs. I wonder, looking back, if any of these cruddy things that happened could have been avoided.
Okay, so two of my mishaps this week occurred due to my big mouth speaking before I thought of any implications. The latter of these incidents turned into a funny story -- while the other one is still fairly frightening and not quite resolved yet.
Other things that brought me down this week -- disappointments from friends/people I know. Whether it was inadvertent or purposeful, I'm still reeling and held captive thinking and rethinking of what's happened. If anyone knows the cure of getting over being screwed/ignored/dismissed, let me know ASAP. I suppose one option is to just cut out people and relationships in general in my life, but alas -- I'm too much of people person to do that. Plus I don't do lonely well.
Then again, the appeal of a monastic life in an isolated tropical climate does seem quite appealing to me -- especially now.
Race over, real life beckons. ttfn.
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