This is outrageous!

According to the Michigan Messenger, in Macomb County, Michigan, if you happen to unlucky enough to be dealing with a home foreclosure, you are also unlucky enough to not be considered a real citizen. The G.O.P. is planning on blocking people in foreclosure from voting. And isn't the right to vote a key part of being a citizen? So basically, here is the Republican philosophy, if you are suffering from economic woes, you don't count. I know, I know, this isn't anything new, but it's still outrageous.

If a group of people could collectively go through Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief, I wonder where our nation would be in terms of 9/11? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance? Certainly not real acceptance? Would a group that had reached the stage of acceptance continue to allow the Bush administration its continuing use of the event for warmongering and jingoism? Or would they instead look for real understanding and peace? Seven years later we are still hearing Bush’s battle cries of “Evil doers” and “war on terrorism,” without any concrete or even slightly substantial evidence that continued war is actually protecting us or bringing us or the rest of the world any closer to peace. A day of remembrance is a good thing, because, hopefully, remembrance also means reflection. But as I listen to the speeches of politicians and the pontificating of pundits on the news, I don’t hear any real reflection, or even true remembrance of the lives lost. I just hear more of the same thing I’ve been hearing for the last seven years: We’re gonna get them! You’re with us or against us! Let’s get them before they get us again! (This is paraphrasing of course.) They say that they are remembering the lost, but then they say aren’t we glad we went to war. Is that really remembering? Could a nation still caught up in these rallying cries be said to still be in the anger stage?

Sheryl Gay Stolberg, from the New York Times, wrote this about the President’s speech:
“Mr. Bush’s speech was short, just seven minutes, and the president used it to declare the memorial ‘an everlasting tribute to 184 innocent souls,’ and to remind his audience that ‘there has not been another attack on our soil in 2,557 days.’ His words served as a parting message, of sorts, from a president who, after two wars, believes fiercely that he has done what was necessary to keep the country safe."

Obviously, there is still more on his agenda then remembering the victims of 9/11. I don't necessarily agree with her wording that he "believes fiercely ." It should be he "appears to believe fiercely."

Read this article, "Poverty, Health and Political Priorities: 2000 to 2007," for a better understanding of economics and health care issues.

I am unable to sleep with the fan running and only a sheet to cover me, but not necessarily because of the heat. It’s just that sometimes reality gets to me. I should stop watching the 9 o’clock news. The unemployment rate is at a five year high (though our government is still insisting that our economy is “resilient”), the rate of foreclosure and people behind on mortgage payments are up to 9.2%, there were a couple more murders in the mission yesterday, and right at the start of the news there was an earthquake. Not such a big earthquake, but enough to realize that no matter what else is going on, the earth has her own agenda. I’ve been worried about all kinds of things this past month, but at least I still have a job and don’t have to worry about losing a home, and if there was a “big one" tomorrow none of it would matter anyway. It’s just one of those moments when I have to stop worrying, wallowing, etc., and realize what’s good in my life. Though, I’m not going to dismiss the trouble either, especially if it can be fixed. But in case anyone is interested here are some things in my life that I am thankful for: Parents that I can talk to, friends I can count on, a boss(es) that I like, a place of my own to lay my head at night, access to good beer on occasion, that fact that there is no one currently in my life who I feel like yelling at as much as my neighbor does, creativity, long walks around the lake, being able to read, having a body healthy enough to do most of what I ask of it, BBC’s Mystery on Sunday nights, living in a place with so many interesting people, and I guess I’ll end with the fact that I am still alive and have not died in a horrible accident or earthquake. Now I suppose I should try getting to sleep again.

I found a link to this story on my friends Sparky's website, and I have to agree with her "Gah!" remark. According to Dante Moore, the best way for a woman to get and keep a man is to put up with all his bullshit and do everything he says. He gone so far as to write a book for women explaining this concept. Though, I have to wonder, for the men who take this disrespectful approach to dating, what kind of woman are they actually going to end up with? Probably not the girl they've been dreaming of (unless they are really into submissives with no self esteem). I'd like to think that any self-respecting woman would say "F that," and get the hell away from those men. Of course there is compromise and questions about power in any relationship, but there is a difference between that and complete disrespect for a woman as a competent human being who deserves to be part of a partnership.

First off, I have to say that I know plenty of bicyclists who are fine upstanding people. I often ride a bike around town myself, though without the special outfit. I think it's great to bike instead of drive when you can. But I am sure most of us have had those moments of grumbling while we are driving ten miles an hour behind a bicyclist we can't pass because they are riding down the center of the lane when we have somewhere to be. If you've had that experience read Tommy Wayne Kramer's column "Assignment Ukiah - Pedaling Baloney." I thought it was entertaining.

So, I was called by the local army recruiting office this morning. Not particularly who I want to hear, or waste my cell phone minutes on, but I answered anyway because the call came from a private number, which is usually what it says when my boss calls. It was easy enough to say, "No, I don't to talk about army recruiting. Thanks anyway. Bye." But there was one bit of information that I got before that happened which made me a little upset. The gentleman on the other end of the line told me that they called me because they were calling previous and current Laney College students. Yes, I occasionally take classes at Laney College because its cheap and fun to occasionally learn new things there. However, I don't ever remember giving them permission to give out my personal information to the army recruiters. There was no check box on the admissions application that said "yes, please share my information." Nor were there any disclaimers telling me that they were planning on doing this with or with out my permission if I decided to be a student. I have the right to know these things, or at least I should, prior to their happening.

Here's a heartwarming story from the Contra Costa Times about giving people a hand when they need it most: "Scholarships keep ex-offenders on the right path."

Just a little something...

Gravity is a mutual agreement and death is an institution, not an inevitability. That is why dear Mrs. Amelda Leed continued to stay on the ground, but no longer aged. She realized these facts at some point while her husband, the late Mr. John Leed, was in the process of dying. He had no other cause other than old age. He was 82 when he died, 16 years her senior. He had a good run of it, but still she somehow didn’t see the point of his death. He had given up. And left her behind simply because he was old. And what did it mean to be old anyway. She was old, but felt great. She could still run, and fall without breaking a hip. Death was something that people did simply because they thought they had to and to get to death they aged. That was how she saw it. So she stopped because what was the point. Now, gravity on the other hand made sense, it would be awfully hard to keep track of things if they simply floated away whenever they wanted, so if everyone continued to agree that gravity existed that suited her just fine.

So Mrs. Leed, now a widow, went on living in the same small town where her husband left her. She continued to get older in years, but she really didn’t age. She was old, but she had given up counting birthdays quite sometime ago. Everyone in town speculated about her age, because most of them had known her their whole lives, but she always looked the same, acted the same, had the same spring in her step. But nobody really knew how old she was.

She had a job. She had had a series of jobs over the past decade, the latest being at the florist shop around the corner from her house. Every morning, as part of her exercise routine, she would get up at dawn, get dressed, and start walking. She would walk in the opposite direction from the florist shop, turning left or right as the mood hit her and eventually she would end up at the shop. By the time she got there another employee would be taking care of the morning shipment. She would put on some music, Artie Shaw, Billie Holiday, or maybe even some Bela Bartok. And then she would start making arrangements for the window display.

This morning she was working with a young girl by the name of Penelope. People around town called her Nelly. Nelly finished high school a couple of months ago and was planning to leave for college in a couple of weeks. Mrs. Leed liked working with Nelly. The minute she came through the door Nelly would start talking. She would talk about getting ready for college. She would talk about the parties she went to. And she would gossip about everyone in town. Mrs.Leed often wondered how Nelly knew so much about everyone, but never questioned her. She liked hearing Nelly’s stories. The town never changed much, and the lives of each generation looked a lot like the generation before. Hearing Nelly’s stories made the town seem predictable and comfortable. Mrs. Leed liked that.

“…And then Mrs. Martin said that she would tell Missy’s Mom what we were up to. And I was, like, it’s not as if we were doing anything illegal. And besides, it’s not like Missy’s mom would listen to her anyway. She hasn’t liked Mrs. Martin since that whole incident with the dog…”

Mrs. Leed was trying to remember if Nelly had told her about the dog incident when Nelly asked, “so what’s your story?”

She looked up, “hmmm?”

“I was just thinking that I’ve worked with you all summer and I don’t know very much about you. So, were you born here?”

Mrs. Leed thought to her self that she didn’t know very much about herself either. Most of her life had been so long ago that she was starting to forget it. “No. I moved here with my husband shortly after we were married. He was from here.”

“How long ago was that?”

“So long ago, I can’t remember.”

“There a rumor around town with the kids that you are, like, two hundred years old. No offense. I mean you know how kids are. I never believed it anyway. I mean, my grandmother is eighty and you look half her age.”

The old woman smiled. “Have you ever considered that it could be true?”

“Nah…You’re joking right? Anyway, nobody lives to be that old.”

“Sometimes I wonder. Everything seems so long ago. I’m starting to forget it. I can’t remember which year I was born anymore.”

The truth, which she never mentioned to anyone, was that she was well into her hundreds. And it was also true that she didn’t know exactly how far in to her hundreds. She had lost count somewhere along the way. After a hundred years she figured that it really didn’t matter anymore. She couldn’t remember the last birthday she had celebrated. She stopped celebrating when her last surviving child stopped surviving. There was no longer anyone to share a birthday with, or even to remind her that it was her birthday. She did remember the date, February 13, occasionally falling on a Friday. That made her sign Aquarius. She was having a memory of someone explaining to her what that meant. It was a woman. As an Aquarius you are prone to deep and profound thoughts…

“You should write it down.” She realized that Nelly was still talking to her.

“Write what down?”

“Your life story, you know, like a memoirs or something, before you start forgetting more stuff. Michael Kealy is writing his memoirs, which I think is silly because he’s only twenty. I mean what could he have to write about. I always thought he was weird anyway.”

“Maybe he is planning on it being a life time project.”

“Yeah, maybe. He’s going to the school I’m going to go to. I hope I don’t run into him very much. I can’t wait to get away from some of the people in this town. I think I’m going to try to get people at school to call me Penelope. I’m tired of being called Nelly. I figure this is a good opportunity to dump that name.”

“Would you like me to start calling you Penelope?”

“That would be great.”

The rest of the morning was pleasant for Mrs. Leed. Penelope stopped asking about her life and instead started gossiping about the affair that the high school English teacher and the school principal were supposedly having. And about how the fact that her neighbor smoked pot was becoming more and more obvious. Every time he stepped out of his house “he just reeked.”

A good day...

Today was a great bay area day for me. First off the weather was beautiful. I started off by meeting up with friends at the Thai temple in Berkeley for Thai brunch. We got there a little too late for it to be an ideal experience (I would recommend arriving before 10:30), but sitting on the back porch of one of the temple buildings drinking Thai ice tea, eating mango sticky rice, and chatting with friends is always pleasant. Then one of my friends and I wandered over to the Ashby flea market, which is only a few blocks away. I bought a great new pair of sunglasses for only five dollars. Then another friend came and picked us up and the three of us drove over to the city to go to Ocean Beach. (We were going to take public transportation, but my friend reasoned that it would be cheaper with three of us to drive. Though I try to use public transit as much as possible I do have many issues with the way BART operates that I will address at some later date.)

We took the long way, driving through golden gate park, which was beautiful as always. We ended up over by the Beach Chalet and the windmill. We stopped in at the Beach Chalet to grab some of their jugs-o-beer. I forget what they call them, but the jugs are cheaper then getting a pitcher, and you get to keep the jug. I think the jug and beer is twelve and if you bring the jug back the refill is only eight. My friend brought hers to refill and I got a new one. Mine is in my frig right now with the left over beer.

The great thing was that right before we ordered one of the people behind the bar dropped a champagne glass nearly on top of me and shattered glass every where I was sitting so he gave us a new one and a refill for the price of one.

After my third friend finally got the food to go that she had ordered (I would not recommend eating there on a Sunday. It was way too busy and took way too long.), we walked across to the beach. We lounged in the warm sand, drank our jugs of beer and snacked on my friends potato chips that came with her food. Unfortunately, it was gray along the shore, but it was still nice to be near the water, watching people with their children, dogs or footballs, and the seagulls waiting for said people to give them food. We finally had to move because of the call of nature (btw, the beach chalet is a great place to use the restroom). And then we wandered over to the
Dutch Windmill, which has a fabulous flower garden surrounding it. We sat on one the benches there and drank some more from our jugs-o-beer (I don't know if it is legal, but no one bugged us).

On our way home we found the freeway traffic stopped. So, we got off and ended up at the Atlas Cafe, which has good coffee drinks, decent pastries, and good soups, all of which tided us over until we thought the freeway had cleared. And last, but not least, we happened to pass a "yard" sale just a few blocks from the cafe where my friend found a great little art deco bedside table for hardly any money. Yes, it was a good day. I would highly recommend this trek to anyone.

This is also worth a look.

It made me smile at least. The song is great. www.takecaredownthere.org

Why I Hate Beauty has an interesting perspective on men's perception of women, and why so many of them can't find fulfilling relationships. Whether or not it is true or even partially true, it's an interesting read.

"A day without a dark cloud. Almost a happy day."

~ Alexander Solzhenitsyn, from One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich.

I was very sad to hear today that one of my favorite authors died this weekend. So I went and pulled his book, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, from my shelf for the umpteenth time. I've noticed that the pages are starting to come loose from the paperback binding, but I suppose that is a sign of love. This book has been influential in my life in many ways, from understanding human nature to understanding history. Solzhenitsyn was an important, influential figure in the Soviet Union, using his writing to both speak truth to power and to give testament to the struggles of many.

The New York Times has an interesting story about how Russia today has lost touch with the work of this great author titled Reverence but No Outpouring for Solzhenitsyn that I would highly recommend reading. I would also recommend Truthout's transcription of an address Solzhenitsyn gave in 1978 called A World Split Apart.

A Homily for the Homeless

I thought I saw Jesus pass me in the street last week.
He just passed me by.
He was followed by an angel in disguise,
Who smiled and tossed me a dime.
Is that all the salvation I get,
All the love you can afford?
I saw him again this past Tuesday.
He tossed a cigarette butt at my feet.
His angel buddy laughed and I was ignored.
What’s that all about?
I was told Jesus loves me.
I don’t believe that now.
All I believe in is dirty streets,
Polluted air,
And assholes everywhere.
Next time I see you in the street,
Or, God forbid,
You come to my door
I’m going to pretend I don’t see you.
Screw that.
I won’t pretend,
I just won’t believe.

This is stupid, as all things written in moments of emotion are, and I will probably delete it tomorrow. But it is amazing how much time someone can spend with you and how little he actually knows about you, or how much he thinks he knows about you that is wrong. And how he will misinterpret everything you say just to make him look and feel better. So here's about me if anyone cares. I don't expect to save the world, I just want to help out a few kids, and feel like I am making a difference in somebody's life. And yes it is a real job. I like my job. There are some things about it I don’t like. Most people have at least one thing they would change about their jobs. But overall, I really like my job. My boss is fabulous. Though I would like to get back into some journalism, which I am working on, because I find learning about new things all the time interesting. I hate politics. I write about politics with disgust. I care about people and politics is not about people. And honestly I don’t care whether or not people vote. It is a personal choice. My brother was a non-voter for years. And most of the time I question whether I should vote or not. Does it really matter, and why would I vote for people I can’t stand, especially when they are the only choices. I am not always late; in fact I am often early to things I think are important. And if someone tells me they would very much like me to be on time I will make an extra effort. I like a lot of sports, and sporting events. I don't like Maroon 5 at all, but I tolerate them for some friends' sake. I will buy Street Spirit from a homeless person occasionally. I actually find it an interesting publication. The rest of the time I try to refer them to a program like B.O.S.S. I definitely don't hold anything against them. Everyone has their own reasons for being where they are in their lives at the moment. Who am I to judge? They are probably decent people for the most part. I laugh at everything, especially myself. I think religion is a big mistake most of the time. It often creates more conflict then good. But I would like to think there is something else out there, but it is not the center of my life by far. I haven't done drugs in a long time, except for caffeine and alcohol. I absolutely hated The Secret. I thought it sounded a bit too much like a pyramid scheme. I am okay with weird, offensive humor; I grew up hearing it. I like to travel, but it is something I do for myself when I get a chance. I don't expect everyone else to be into it, or want to go where I want to go. And I would never harass anyone to go with me. I have plenty of friends who like to travel with me, and I also like traveling alone. I don't always remember dates unless I write them down. But I have an excellent memory otherwise. I can remember most events very clearly, but maybe not the precise date they happened on. I don't care if anyone remembers my birthday. That is why I always do something for myself. It's the one day I take to be truly selfish and do things just for me, and the friends who decide they want to come along. I love music with a passion. And I think I have incredibly good taste. I may not know all the facts about a band or even remember the name of the song, album, or the band itself, but it’s the music that is important. I have never actually listened to Sufjan Stevens, and as such don’t have an opinion about his music one way or another. I wish I had the time and money to go to more shows. Overall I am a completely (way to much maybe?) compromising and forgiving person. I don't expect apologies from people. Apologies are often insincere. What I do expect is behavior changes. That is how you know a person is actually sorry about what they've done. I try to be very honest with people, and often find myself in trouble by expecting the same from others. But I have told lies occasionally. Most notably when I used to cheat on spelling tests in third grade. And more recently when I said I don't think about the future. I constantly think about the future. But I also know that the future is constantly changing, so I try to be open to all possibilities and see what happens, but make decisions based on what I hope the outcome will be. I try to enjoy now as much as possible, no matter what the future might bring. And I am confident in myself and my ability to survive whatever life brings my way. I definitely don’t need a man to survive. I am independent and I like myself. I am okay with my body, but I wouldn’t mind losing a few pounds, not because of what other people think, but because I think I might feel a little healthier that way. I like to be active, and if I spend too much time sitting around it makes me unhappy. I am smart and funny when people around me allow the space for it. I am a good conversationalist if you try me. Just have a topic you really enjoy talking about. Most of all I think friendship is important, which is probably why I have more friends then I can actually spend quality time with. That is all for now.

Here is my life in a nut shell:

Have a great idea, start working on it, get distracted by some other great idea (or sometimes just an okay one), a month goes by and nothing is done. Since shortly after my last post, not quite a month ago, I have had a slew of things that I have wanted to write about, some of them started, some not, but none finished. Needless to say there have been many distractions this month. Interesting articles I read inspired most of the things I wanted to write about. So instead of taking the time to write out a commentary on every topic, I'm just going to list all the articles, which you should read, with just a sentence or two to accompany them. That way at least I have posted something. Maybe later I will come back and expand upon certain themes, but probably not.

"Senate Approves Bill to Broaden Wiretap Powers" (NYT) This is one of my favorite parts: "There is nothing to fear in the bill, said Senator Christopher S. Bond, the Missouri Republican who was a lead negotiator, 'unless you have Al Qaeda on your speed dial.'" Hey, I thought he was just the pizza guy.

"Midwest floods spotlight decrepit infrastructure" (Reuters) What the government's job again? Oh yeah, war. We don't need functioning roads, bridges, or anything like that anyway.

"House of Cards: You thought the housing crisis was bad? You ain’t seen nothing yet." (LA CityBeat) Something to think about.

"Google Told to Turn Over User Data of YouTube" (NYT) To Tube or not to Tube.

"Bush-Led 'Disaster Capitalism' Exploits Worldwide Misery to Make a Buck" (Alternet) Naomi Klein is always a good read and I find this piece particularly interesting.

"Fuel for Inequality" (NYT) Who would have thought, it's the poor getting screwed again. Excellent op-ed, brings up a lot of points not much heard in the din about oil prices.

I think that's enough for right now. I will try not to get so distracted in the future.

A new ceasefire agreement was announced today between Israel and Hamas…

Hamas: We agree to stop as soon as they stop.

Israel: We agree to stop as soon as they stop.

Hamas: You first.

Israel: No, you first.

Here’s a story that roiled my blood.

CNN.com’s article “FEMA gives away $85 million of supplies for Katrina victims” is just the thing to make Friday the 13th luck seem not so bad. It is my impression that it is common knowledge that the plights of many Katrina victims are far from over. Stories are still coming out of the New Orleans area about families displaced and homeless, communities still trying to rebuild. Yet FEMA claims to not have known the supplies were needed. I find this highly suspicious. Another story by ABC News, “FEMA Boots Katrina Victims From Trailers,” leads me to believe that FEMA is in some way actively impeding the recovery of the area, either that or extreme incompetence. According to the ABC story the reason for asking displaced families to leave the trailers set up as temporary homes is because they cannot withstand hurricane season. If that is the case why are these families still in these trailers almost three years and two hurricane seasons later? The other explanation is that the formaldehyde used in making the trailers is making people sick. If the levels of formaldehyde were that high, then why were these trailers used in the first place? Some of the families may be able to find homes, but as ABC quotes ‘ “The government had no plan for long-term planning of folks, and this is in the midst of an affordable housing crisis that the country has never seen the proportions of,” said Judith Browne-Dianis, co-director of the Advancement Project, a legal action group founded by a team of civil rights lawyers in 1998.’ The article postulates that many will end up in the infamous tent city under the I-10 interstate where many displaced individuals and families are already living.

It seems to me that there never was much intention of helping out these victims of Katrina, who are mostly the poor and minorities. FEMA didn’t do much in the first days of the disaster, and they are continuing to not do all they should. Instead, the burden falls on individuals and NGOs willing to help out and give their time, which I’m sure is much appreciated. But isn’t the duty of our government to maintain the well-being and sense of security of its people (and by security, I mean knowing that I’ll have a roof over my head tomorrow, not protection against some ambiguous terrorist threat). Isn’t that what we pay tax dollars for? Where do all our tax dollars go to? Oh that’s right, to Iraq. I hope the Iraqis are enjoying the services our government has to offer them.

This is worth looking at.

http://www.freepress.net/node/41347

States what many of us know, but eloquently. Let me know what you think of Dan Rather's overview of the state of mainstream media today.

Here's another example of the absurdness of the Israel-Palestine Conflict. The New York Times published an article today entitled "State Dept. Reinstates Gaza Fulbright Grants."(If you are not signed up for a NYT online account, you might as well. It's free.) Apparently , Palestinian recipients of the Fulbright were told last week that they were not going to receive the grant after all because of Israel's ban on travel for Palestinians in the Gaza strip. Fortunately, the State Department saw the error of this fairly quickly and got special permission for travel for the Fulbright scholars, after they go through rigorous security checks (who knows what that will involve). But, as the article points out, there are still close to 600 other scholars in the Gaza strip who have received scholarships to study abroad, who are, as it currently stands, unable to take advantage of these prestigious opportunities they have been offered. If Israel is looking for ways to escalate violence and garner support for Hamas, this is certainly a good stepping stone towards that goal. Imagine working hard for an opportunity such as a prestigious scholarship to study abroad, receiving it, then being told you can't use it because you happen to be a Palestinian student, who also happens to live in Gaza. That might piss me off a little. How about you?