Monday, September 26, 2005

It's a new day...or not.

Time has turned in on itself.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Q and A

Ten Years Ago: I had just moved to Portland OR, post-divorce.

Five Years Ago: I had just completed the MA in Philosphy and spent the summer in Alaska, to end up in Philly by the end of the year.

One Year Ago: I moved deeper into south Philly, really getting the flavor of the place.

Yesterday: Went to the job, hugged my kid, walked the dog and thanked Nana for watching Ubs so that SK and I could go out on our first date in months.

Five Songs I Know All the Words To: Mother, Mother; Respect; Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star; Itsy Bitsy Spider and If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands. I know. I will not apologize

Five Snacks: chips and salsa, goldfish, cheerios, almonds and popcorn (aka “pee-pop”, SK thinks that popcorn smells like urine. I know, he’s gross).

Five Things I'd Do With $100 Million: Start a foundation to give money to 1. children dying of hunger in Africa (I will not apologize for setting priorities), 2. scholarships and childcare for low-income women with children, 3. community re-entry programs for men of color released from prison, 4. political funding for minority candidates with progressive views, and 5. other stuff.

Five Places I'd Run Away To: Portland OR, Aloginquin Provincial Park, The Alps, Costa Rica, and Greece

Five Things I'd Never Wear: fur, black nail polish, a cowboy hat, ivory, or a nose ring

Five Favorite TV Shows: The Daily Show (Jon Stewert), Lost, the West Wing (seasons 1 -3), Survivor (last 5 episodes each season only), and …that’s alls I gots…

Five Greatest Joys: Bubber, SK, Goo, my sister, my dad and my mom.

Five Favorite Toys: my books, my nail polish supplies, my newspaper, The Week magazine, and my lists.

**Thanks to Duf for the Qs. I lifted them from his always-interesting blog.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Coupla Things Regarding the New Place

1. This is a question to the ladies because I know that etiquette for men and women is entirely different. So, as may of you know, I’m working at a new place. Tell me, you know those seat covers things? Are you supposed to use those ALL OF THE TIME, or only when you’re going “for real?” as SK would say.*

2. Anyone that is willing to sell stale peanuts to hungry office workers should be shot. I trekked all the way downstairs, down the block, purchased them, squirreled them away in my pockets, excited for the snack, and WHAMO! STALE! The cranberries were good though.

3. If you’re in a coffee pool whereby you put $2 in a week, are you allowed to make coffee at 3 in the afternoon, knowing full that no one else wants any? Somehow these people get through the entire day with one cup of coffee. Madness, I tell you. Madness.

4. Is it really necessary to remember everyone’s name? It isn’t that I don’t believe each and every one of these people to be supremely important, but dang! And to that question, does anyone have a good way of pulling someone’s name out of them when you’ve already been told their name eight times?

5. Note to self: Do not walk into an already running teleconference and say “Hi!” because, most likely, the people on the other end of the phone didn’t see you walk in late and you might have gotten away with it.

6. Note to self: Collect more gnomes.

7. Note to self: Respect the hierarchy.

8. Note to self: Try the burrito across the street this week.

*If you need any elucidation for the meaning of “for real”, please drop me a note.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

It Never Ends

When I heard that Leon Kass is leaving as the Chairperson of the President’s Council on Bioethics, I knew I’d be about as happy with the replacement as I was with Kass; not so much. But when I heard it was going to be this guy, I thought “Perfect!” because, had it been some mainstream ethicist, I would have had a heart attack. Thankfully, this guy couches much of his ethics on Christianity (whew! –coulda ended up with a secular, deontological nutbag, thank goodness Bush is holding firm to his deity-driven agenda—close call!). Further, he adores the the slippery slope argument that most modern ethicists, logicians and philosophers so scorn and even go so far as to refer to it as a fallacy. Yippee for conventional wisdom!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

This Pleases Me Greatly

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Snow Manhunter
Your Superpower is Witchcraft
Your Weakness is Salt
Your Weapon is Your Invisible Knife
Your Mode of Transportation is Monster Truck

Thanks to Amy McWeasel. Missing you dude.

Monday, September 12, 2005

To the Question at Hand

So, we’re sitting here watching TVs Most Outrageous Moments and we COULD SWEAR we had just seen the most outrageous moments last week. How could it be possible that there are MORE most outrageous moments, we ask ourselves? But then we see the first clip where a woman that looks like a nun wipes out on some ice. HILARIOUS and OUTRAGEOUS.

I know, we’re bad for enjoying such low-brow entertainment. SK insists, however, that things are only funny when someone gets hurt—the possibility for humor only exists in cases in which someone is present at whom you can laugh. I always beg to differ to this argument, but I never have been able to win, the same way that I argue for altruism even while faced with Phoebe’s cogent “there’s no such thing” argument.

Anyway, long story short, if you know of a joke that doesn’t make fun of someone or doesn’t make their lackings humorous, please share here.

On to other news:

1. First day at my new job today. Very different environment than was my place before. Talk about INFRASTRUCTURE. Dang. The place is so established that they actually have the tools you need to do your job. I’m not really sure what to do with myself. Plus there doesn’t seem to be any mania. It’s not that I want the mania of the old gig, but I do miss it a tiny bit. It’s like coming from a loving yet dysfunctional family and then marrying the sane, kind guy that wants kids and a house…kinda like I did. I guess, after thinking about it that way, I should be able to get used to this new place after all.

2. So Brown resigned. Here, here! Now his boss should.

3. John Roberts has no upper-lip. My thesis advisor had no upper-lip. My thesis advisor was a bastard. John Roberts must, therefore, be a bastard. Based on this incredibly sound reasoning, I submit that this man should not serve as the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of these United States. For actual thoughtful reasons, see this very smart post.

4. Ubs has learned to say Nnnnnnnnnoh! That kid is too much. Too much of all that is good in this world.

5. My friend SK is a babe.

6. I just read this. I liked it. I did not love it.

7. I am loving this.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Race and Class Again or A Difference That Makes A Difference?

So SK requested that I pen a letter to some newspapers and the like but I figured this as good a forum as any to get my thoughts out there and, should I get feedback, I will forward it along.

First let me say that my driveling on and on about race and class bores me nearly as much as it bores you. Conflation, comblation, who cares? Well, I suppose I do. I guess the reason that I care and that I believe that the horror of the folks down in New Orleans should be categorized as a class issue rather than a race issue is because we all have dirty hands. Each and every one of us.

If I say that the federal government, doesn’t care about blacks, then it would follow that I could surely point the finger and say, “See there! Just as I’ve always said, they are inhumane, rotten to the core, evil bastards!” Because I fancy myself a less-racist-than-the-average-Bush-adminstration-jackhole and, I might even go so far as to consider myself a pretty “fair” gal in regard to race (as much as a person can be being raised in the context of the U.S), I can sit in judgment. So, and this is important, I get to play the “blame game” with clean hands.

BUT, if I say that this is about CLASS, I have to admit that, in virtue of my cashing my pay checks and living the life (which I really am), I am contributing to a world that stratifies economics; a world where me getting something PREVENTS others from having it. I play the game that, by its current structure, makes some people live substandard existences. And what does that make me? And how to do I try to fix that? And how can I walk around with FILTHY hands because, while I don’t consider myself racist, I do consider myself comfortable and guilt lies in that when I don’t ensure that others, while maybe not comfortable, AT LEAST have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

This is about class. Make no mistake about it. It may be, by extension, about race, but should you consider yourself non-racist, you do not get to walk away from this. Your hands are as filthy as mine. I live here, in this space, with my comforts and I watched the people die and I didn’t see them until now and now I give money? Now I try to fix it. A little too little a lot too late. We are bastards every one of us.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

U.S.A.!! U.S.A.!! U.S.A.!! GooooOOO TEAM!

I guess it’s been a while since I’ve actually written anything and I guess this seems as good a time as any. The thing is, I’m really not thinking about anything someone else isn’t. Nor can I get away from the horribleness that was Katrina and our government’s appalling lack of readiness and response. It feels as though race and class issues are slapping me in the face, per usual. But, before I travel down that godforsaken road, this is something worth noting.

Okay, to it. I believe this Slate article, while a fine read, used slippery logic, was ill-organized and conflated race and class, to a fault. Let me state this, and I know it’s a radical statement:

Not all blacks are poor and not all poor are black.

Okey doke then. So what does it mean that so many of the people left to find their way out of hell are black? It means that the GOVERNMENT, yeah I said it, THE GOVERNMENT, did not do enough to get people transportation out of city.

Now read this like a cheer at a football game:

Who couldn’t get out of the city?

The Poor!

How’s that spelled?


And why couldn’t they get out?

No money!

How’s that spelled?


No. That’s idiotic. That causal relationship was between MONEY and the freedom it granted people to leave, not one’s race and what?? If you want to talk about why it appears that so many blacks are poor, K, let’s chat. But if you want to talk about people left in the city, you need to talk about ability and that ability was granted through financial means and why is that? Because the goddamned government didn’t do its job.

There you go. Have a nice day.

Please Consider Providing an Emergency Home

You can do so here.

The Difference

Please see the image regarding looting vs. finding on this site:

I'll never understand this. Never.