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We inturrupt this program to bring you this breaking news bulletin

Next week is the normally scheduled night for movie night, but it’s also something else.

kitanzi and I were lamenting not being able to attend aiela and davehogg‘s election night party, and I said “Well, we could just throw our own,” and after some discussion, we decided that would be a fine thing to do this month in place of the usual film. So….

Tuesday, November 4th :: 7pm until whenever :: Rob & Larissa’s Place

We’ll have some popcorn, put the returns up on the big TV, and just generally sit around and chat about whatever moves us as the results come in.

The rules

  1. NO BASHING. I have my biases, and I’m sure you have yours. That said, while I like a spirited debate about politics as much as the next person, I’d like to keep my home a friendly space for anyone to attend.
  2. See rule #1.

Seriously, folks, I want to have a good time with this, and I’m willing to pass the chips to someone willing to sit down with me and have a friendly chat, whether they’re Democrats, Republicans, Greens, Socialists, Monarchists, or whatever you might be. It’s a party, not an inquisition.

Who’s in for it??

At the end of the day…

[I originally wrote this in 2002. Reposted with minor revisions.]

I don’t have a problem with remembering the terrible human catastrophe that occurred seven years ago today. I think it would do us all good to pause and reflect on how terrible events can bring us together, and to remember what we learned, as a nation, as a community, as a people, about the world.

But I also think we should spend more time looking forward, not looking back.

We should spend more time making grand plans and executing them, inviting our souls and being creative, and living life to the fullest.

We should spend more time doing small, special things for our friends, our family, our loved ones.

We should spend more time laughing, and making music, and increasing the joy in the people around us.

We should spend more time helping each other, and holding each other, and saying “I love you” to each other.

Because at the end of the day, each other is all we ever really have.

The Art of the Possible

I really haven’t talked about politics much in the last few years. I admit to being pretty dispirited about the subject, and getting too worked up about things I have no direct control over does bad things for my depression issues. Besides, other people are covering the politics much better than I would.

Also, honestly, I’m not as passionate about politics as many of my friends. I’m less a moderate than I am a pragmatist. I believe that politics is about compromise, and that both sides of most issues have at least some merit. This doesn’t tend to make for a very compelling position for debate, and generally only succeeds in getting both sides mad at me.

But it’s an election season, and I do have a strong interest in the outcome. So I’m starting to pay closer attention, now that the conventions are underway. Last night, Hilary Clinton gave her address to the Democratic convention, calling for unity in the party and throwing her full support to Barack Obama. Today, reading responses to her excellent speech, I’ve noticed a nearly universal sentiment being expressed.

“Boy, that really had to be hard for her.” “That must have really stuck in her craw.” “I can’t imagine how much it hurt for her to have to get up there and give that speech.” “Boy, she really managed to choke down her resentment and support the ticket.”

Do you have any idea how insulting that is to Hilary Clinton? To presume that everything she stands for, everything she ran on, every issue that she promoted in her campaign is ultimately secondary to her own personal ambition, that it must have been painful to her to support her party’s nominee? I’m sure she is disappointed she didn’t win the nomination. But to suggest that she would really rather thumb her nose at everyone but is instead putting on a brave face for the sake of expedience is to suggest that she’s really interested in nothing more than her own self-interest.

I have issues with the way Clinton ran her campaign. At one time, I’d have been happy with her as the nominee, even though she wasn’t my first choice, but by the end I was rather put out by her. But I don’t believe she is so shallow and superficial that she doesn’t have a strong interest in seeing Obama heading up the next administration. And you shouldn’t either, if you have even a bit of respect for her and what she’s accomplished in her career.

“Do you understand where you are?”

Whenever you discuss issues of relevance to a minority community, eventually the notion of privilege comes up. There are certain status that, through accident of birth, simply make it easier for you to get by in our society. Two things I’ve observed about this in the past are that 1) telling someone they have some sort of privilege often makes them defensive, and 2) it’s really hard to realize it when you have it.

I know that I’m extremely fortunate in many ways to have been dealt the cards I have. I’m a married white guy from a comfortably middle-class family with country squire roots. Double Income No Kids and good jobs means that I have a fair amount of disposable income at hand — not enough to do whatever I want whenever I want, but enough to live comfortably in a nice neighborhood with two cars and a fair number of gadgets and toys — not to mention traveling across the country just to see someone I love because I can. While there are certainly parts of my life that are well outside the mainstream, they’re easy enough to hide if I was inclined to. (I’m not, but I’ve found — and have sometimes been gently chided for – simply not mentioning things makes it pretty easy to avoid scrutiny.

Do I have privilege? I have privilege in spades. Good lord, I’m only short being rich and good-looking for a full hand of trumps. And it’s not my fault, and I can say that none of the things should matter, but they do, and when you were born able to breathe the water, it rarely occurs to you that other people are drowning.

Part of the problem is that it’s really hard to put yourself in another persons shoes. No matter how much you empathize, no matter how much you care, no matter how much you show solidarity, its hard to really grok what it means to be black, or poor, or gay, or a woman, because you just don’t have the context. You don’t have the invisible framework that exists around those things that lets you see the world the way they do. You can see the picture, but don’t notice all the colours, or the little details that are just out of your frame, but the painter was quite aware of.

Every now and then, someone will come along and tear a jagged wound in their soul so that you can see inside, and while total understanding still eludes you, something strikes you deep in the heart, and you get it just a little more. Yesterday, shadesong pointed to just such an essay, a reaction to the Jena 6 incident that is continuing to play out in Louisiana and the continuing presence of racism in our society.


A few minutes later, I was helping my then terminally-ill father to the bathroom. He had been down south for a few weeks with my mom. Back “home” was where he wanted to die. I stayed there with him, as he stood at the urinal.

“You know” he said, “I came back here to let go, right son?”

“Yes sir.”

“I wanted it to happen here…where I was born. With Mama and Daddy, and everything I knew. I wanted to go…home.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I’ll be”—he looked around to see if there was anyone there to hear him curse—“I’ll be Goddamned, if the shit I ran away from in 1948 ain’t still here.” He sighed heavily. “The same shit.”

He looked at me. His eyes wet with tears. “I swear to God son, I tried to make this a better world for ya’ll. I tried. And look at it. Coming home to this shit…I know I’m not gonna be here much longer…but coming home to this shit…it just takes it outta me that much more. I feel like I could die today.”

Read the whole thing. Walk a mile in those shoes, and see the world through another’s eyes. Understand where you are, how far we have come, and how far we have yet to go.

QOTD

“I’m a conservative, but I’m not mad at everybody over it. And I think that one of the things I’ve had to realize is that…for example, I’m pro-life, but I think life begins at conception, but I don’t think it ends at birth. We have to be concerned about a child’s education, and health care, safe neighborhoods, clean water, the access to a college education. That is pro-life, to care about a child’s entire life and it’s consistent with what I think we need to be talking about.”
–Gov. Mike Huckabee (R-AR), on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart

Voting

Today is the day we in the US exercise our civic responsibility to go and vote. If you haven’t already, please make the time to do so.

I actually requested and mailed an absentee ballot, so my vote is already taken care of, which is good because today has shaped up to be utterly sucktastic. So far this morning:

-couldn’t find my keys, which turned out to be in my jacket pocket.
-finally got out the door, got the to gas station, couldn’t find credit card
-drove home, couldn’t find card, eventually discovered it in my wallet (?!?)
-noticed on way back out the door giant bolt embedded in tire
-got gas, got to work 20 minutes late.
-will have flat tire by lunchtime, no doubt.
-no idea about lunch now, since plan had been to go home. kitanzi is going to bring me lunch. I have the best wife ever.

Hope your day is going better. And if you’re in the United States, go vote. It’s important.

Remembering 9/11

I had intended not to post anything today, or if I did post anything today, I intended not to mention the Anniversary of the Big Event.

It’s not that I have a problem with people remembering. It was something that affected each and every one of us, and my cynicism over how that event has been exploited for political and commercial gain doesn’t change the fact that very real people are experiencing very real emotions today. I’m not immune. I won’t ever forget that day. But I won’t let it define my life. I can’t. If we let this tragedy define us, then we’ve allowed the bad guys to accomplish something, and I guess I’m just too stubborn to give in to that.

On the other hand, a moment of honest reflection is worthwhile. So I offer you three things, in memory of all we lost, and all we gained.

  • Brooklyn humorist ZeFrank turned serious on The Show Thursday:

    So in the last week, President Bush has called on Americans to use the five-year anniversary of September 11th as a chance to recall the unity that we felt in its aftermath. It was a pretty amazing unity. We were certainly bonded together by fear but also by a kind of hopefulness. It was a hopefulness from the experience of the amazing strength that we have when we decide to help each other.

    That unity was not about the government. It was a shared determination among us to make things better. The President seems to think that “unity” implies supporting him and his policies. In my personal opinion, the President has no right to attach himself to that part of our experience. He already had his shot. While every other aspect of 9/11 is defiled this Monday, let us at least keep intact the memory of what that unity meant to us.

  • Seen several places on my friends list, 5tephe gives us a suggestion for what we can do today:

    I heard a lady on the radio this morning with the best Idea ever.

    Go out today and do something tangible, that makes the world better.

    Visit someone in hospital, give blood, make a $5 donation to a charity, bake a cake for a neighbour, fix up that hole in your mother-in-law’s fence, write a letter of congratulation to a Nobel peace prise winner, hand in that umbrella to lost and found, pick up litter outside your work, drop off a bundle of tinned food to the local homeless refuge, scrub off some graffiti from a wall, change the light bulb in the hall of your block of flats, sweep off the sidewalk outside your house and clean out the gutter, help Mrs Johnson across the road to carry her groceries in.

    Just go out and do something. Make sure it is physical, tangible. Make the world a better place in some way. Help someone. Help each other. Make today not about the death, and destruction, and violence, and intolerance, but about the gift that you can make, yourself, right now.

    Change the world.

    Pass this idea around folks. Link to my little spiel, or copy it into your own journal. Then make a comment (and encourage others to, also) letting each other know what it was you did today.

  • John Ford’s poem, 110 Stories, is still the best piece of creative art I’ve seen come out of these events.

    Some nights I still can see them, like a ghost.
    King Kong was right about the Empire State.
    I’d rather not hear what you’ll miss the most.
    A taller building? Maybe. I can wait.
    I hugged the stranger sitting next to me.
    So this is what you call a second chance.
    One turn aside, into eternity.
    This is New York. We’ll find a place to dance.

    In closing, while remembering the events of this day, remember also this: we were hurt, but we were not destroyed. We are still one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all, if we want it to be. And when someone tells you that we must give those ideals up in order to be safe, remember this day well. And tell them no.

Are you pondeirng what I’m pondering?

Every morning, I receive, via e-mail, a digest of headlines from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, detailing for me the top stories of the morning with links to the stories should I care to pursue them. This morning, one of those headlines stood out, not least because it was singled out in the subject line of the e-mail:

Book says bin Laden had crush on Whitney Houston

In a juicy excerpt by former bin Laden concubine-turned-“Days of Our Lives” soap opera scribe Kola Boof, 37, she writes that the terrorist mastermind was obsessed with the Alpharetta pop star during her tenure with him.

In her memoir, “Diary of a Lost Girl,” Boof dishes that “He [bin Laden] told me Whitney Houston was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He had a paramount desire for [Houston] and although he claimed music was evil, he spoke someday of spending vast amounts of money to go to America and try and arrange a meeting. In his briefcase, I would come across the Star [magazine] as well as copies of Playboy. It would soon come to the point where I was sick of hearing Whitney Houston’s name.”

If you’re anything like me, the following thoughts probably occur to you at this point, more or less in this order:

1) This is news we need to know?
2) Osama bin Laden has become part of the celebrity culture.
3) Poor bastard.

And then….like a beacon of light, it occurred to me. I know how we can find this guy, at long last. And because I am a patriotic American who loves his country, I offer this to the leaders of our military at no cost, without expectation of recognition or recompense.

The Army simply needs to form the 1st Armoured Paparazzi Division. We assemble a unit of the world’s top celebrity photographers, air drop them onto the Afghanistan/Pakistan border, and within two weeks, we’ll be getting shots of Osama going into his cave with a newspaper held up to block his face.

Go ahead. Say it’s crazy, but it just might work!

PBS Kids presenter fired over Indie Film role

sarekofvulcan posts in his blog:

Melanie Martinez, host of PBS Kids Sprout’s The Good Night Show, was fired recently because she appeared 7 years ago in a short independent film that her producers deemed inappropriate.

Right.

After all, I definitely want my work performance to be judged on what I did in college

Yeah, its really important, because you know that pre-school kids are a *huge* segment of the independent film demographic. Hell, I can’t stand to go to Sundance or Cannes anymore, because I’m always tripping over toddlers at the screenings.

Furrfu!

Oh good god

Thanks to beige_alert for pointing this one out:

Come One, Come All, Join the Terror Target List

It reads like a tally of terrorist targets that a child might have written: Old MacDonald’s Petting Zoo, the Amish Country Popcorn factory, the Mule Day Parade, the Sweetwater Flea Market and an unspecified “Beach at End of a Street.”

[…]

The database is used by the Homeland Security Department to help divvy up the hundreds of millions of dollars in antiterrorism grants each year, including the program announced in May that cut money to New York City and Washington by 40 percent, while significantly increasing spending for cities including Louisville, Ky., and Omaha.

“We don’t find it embarrassing,” said the department’s deputy press secretary, Jarrod Agen. “The list is a valuable tool.”

But the audit says that lower-level department officials agreed that some older information in the inventory “was of low quality and that they had little faith in it.”

“The presence of large numbers of out-of-place assets taints the credibility of the data,” the report says.

In addition to the petting zoo, in Woodville, Ala., and the Mule Day Parade in Columbia, Tenn., the auditors questioned many entries, including “Nix’s Check Cashing,” “Mall at Sears,” “Ice Cream Parlor,” “Tackle Shop,” “Donut Shop,” “Anti-Cruelty Society” and “Bean Fest.”

Obviously, the terrorists know that if they can disrupt the Mule Day parade in Columbia, TN, a wave of fear will culminate in the cancellation of the National Hollerin’ Contest in Spivy’s Corner, NC, and our very way of life will be destroyed. Either that, or the government is trying to very cleverly provide the terrorists with disinformation, drawing them away from the real targets. Which might work, if the terrorists were all complete idiots.

In the words of Lily Tomlin: “I try to be cynical, but it’s so hard to keep up.”

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