Great Society- Take Me To A Circus Tent

Quality Rock & Roll Airplane style.

Hello there from Airplane Saturday:

What is happening?  Thought I would share this goody from the Beatles Vaults.

It is Beatles From The Vaults #64 and a rehearsal for

Blackbird.

We have to be quiet as we enjoy genius in progress.

Maybe more from the Vaults later!

All the best!

Relax and have fun!

JEFFERSON AIRPLANE- JEFFERSON STARSHIP- Great Society-

Take Me To A Circus Tent

May the music be magic!

I look forward to hearing you later!

The book is Take Me To A Circus Tent (The Jefferson Airplane Flight Manual) W/93 photos, 32 interviews, 543 pages, and a myriad of 5 star reviews!

Please remember at any moment on an Aircast it can be a rare memory from the Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, KBC, Wooden Ships, Marty Balin, Paul Kantner to name several.  Maybe another picture previously unseen from the Rock Tent Vault sees daylight from Herb Greene or Don Aters.

http://www.takemetoacircustent.net/media/JeffersonAirplaneTakeMeToACircusTentAircast63beatlesinflight.mp3

Be well,

cf

Anyway I thought to start with Alien3, having recently seen the 'assembly' cut which restores and replaces some of the original version, however it is still rubbish and while it makes a good example of corporatism destroying cinema, it's simply best forgotten. Really, there are two films in the Alien cannon- Alien & Aliens- after that they went to hell (incidentally after Murdoch bought Fox, hmmm). All others are objects of curiosity ( I cannot resist seeing them dammit!) but in no way continue the saga began in the first two. So I have sort of started with Alien3 but really am still too annoyed to bear writing more about it, what a waste, what a fuck up, no wonder Fincher refused to do a commentary, he knows he did wrong (and had wrong done to him by the 'company')!

So the official first entry is this image below-

From a BBC week in pictures thingy (item no. 3) the caption is-

Blood stains cover a bullet-riddled wall in the Lebanese town of Shwayfat. The country has been rocked by fighting between Hezbollah fighters and pro-government forces.

Yesterday I read Ann's post at People's Geography about a film 'Waltz with Bashir' at Cannes  that is a curious animated true tale of an IDF soldier, Ari Folman, to come to terms with the gaps in his memory surrounding the part he played in the first Lebanese war and the 1982 massacre of thousands of unarmed Palestinian civilians in the West Beirut refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila.

I have read some about Sabra & Shatila, I was appalled Sharon got to be PM, news shows would perhaps sometimes call him 'hardline' as in I suppose Peter Sutcliffe was 'hardline' with his position on feminism. What a fucking murdering war criminal scum bucket, and he got elected Prime Minister! Anyway she included some links to testimony of the massacres, some I had read before the testimony of Dr Ang Swee Chai I had not (read it here). It is astonishing, utterly horrific, there can be no doubt that what the right wing Christian Phalangists aided by the IDF did was no different to the Nazi liquidation of Jewish ghettos.

Later on I came across the picture featured above and while the circumstances are different (although in some larger context it is in part violence supported by Israel and the US while they talk of peace) it is an image of the detritus of armed violence. However I find it also a striking image quite abstract from its immediate context, I would guess the photographer (an AFP person, well done whoever you are) also saw that. They have made an image that moves beyond its news context and certainly beyond the representation of violence it is both pleasing and disturbing visually. Whereas many canvasses or prints can look similar, this of course exists due to some person having possibly lethal violence done to them. As such it is utterly unique and too terrible a result to wilfully reproduce (just say no to snuff art!) but nevertheless for me it's the most arresting artefact I have seen this week. That it comes out of a news context probably indicates my preoccupation with the human events on planet Earth (and dare I say the depoliticisation of much artwork in order to sell to the wealthy buying class, having said which this looks good -send me a review copy!) and it is disturbing to want to look at it, yet I do, like picking a moral scab.

Anyways, I see I have manifestly failed in this inaugural For 'Em by going form a passing condemnation Alien3 to a somewhat less fun photo and memories of massacres and being quite serious. D'oh, sorry, but hey there's no telling where a bit of kultchur(!) might take you, next week I shall try to plan it around a more lightweight subject. Frankly I blame Alien3 for being steadfastly bad, still.

omofobia

e qualche altra cosetta trovata in giro (giusto per far vedere che sono impegnata anche se in ritardo, sorry)

ilaria k. l'iniziativa "adotta un finocchio" mi fa morire...

e dal queerblog

e dal fedele gionata

pero' in fondo son tutti link con le stesse info:
verona parla da sè, altre notizie parlano da sè.
tutti i giorni contro l'omofobia.
educare contro l'omofobia o meglio educare ai diritti civili sarebbe la cosa da fare.

ปรากฎการณ์เหล่านี้ อ.นิธิ เอียวศรีวงศ์ แกอธิบายตอนเราไปสัมภาษณ์ว่าเป็นผลของโครงสร้างสังคมที่หยาบขึ้น "หยาบ" ในทีนี่ ไม่ใช่หยาบคาย หยาบโลน แต่เป็นความหยาบแบบที่เอาแต่ตัวกู ของกู คือใครจะเป็นอย่างไรไม่สนใจ "หยาบ" แบบทำลวกๆ คือรายละเอียดช่างมัน ใบปะหน้าผ่านเป็นใช้ได้ "หยาบ" แบบเซ็กส์ใช้เอาแค่เบากาย แต่สุขใจแบบลึกล้ำไม่จำเป็น เลยพาลนึกไปถึงงานปั้น ค.ว.ย. ของคุณปูที่ใส่กล่องอาหารจีน take-away ผลจากการสร้าง express way comes express sex

การไม่ใส่ใจรายละเอียดเล็กๆน้อยๆ มันจึงไปคู่กับความเร็ว ทางด่วนที่ไหนจะมีประดิดประดอยตามขอบคงไม่มี กดปุ่มแมคโดนัลด์ได้เร็วทันใจ แต่ไส้แฮมเบอร์เกอร์ทะลักออกไปข้างๆแทนตรงกลาง รักเร็วเซ็กส์เร็วแท้งเร็ว เพราะคิดเร็วด่วนได้ มันเลยลืมที่จะรอบคอบ

ความเร็วมันเลยทำให้วันๆ เราเป็นแบบพี่เถิกใน The Matrix มากกว่าน้องหนูหน้าม้าใน Amelie รึเปล่า? ในขณะที่คนนึงปั๊มมนุษย์ถ่านเป็นล้านๆหน่วย อีกคนคอยนั่งดูมดที่ไต่อยู่บนฉากหลังของนางเอกในจอภาพยนตร์ ในขณะที่พี่เถิกรวยและก้าวเป็นหัวหน้าไล่ฆ่าพี่คีย์นูสุดฤทธิ์ ในขณะที่น้องอาเมลีประสบความสำเร็จสูงสุด ด้วยการรู้ว่าไอ้รูปขาดๆ ของผู้ชายคนหนึ่งที่เจอบ่อยๆที่สถานีรถไฟคือใคร

ถ้า

เร็ว + หยาบ -----> ปริมาณ > คุณภาพ

เพราะฉะนั้น ทำงานอัดๆแบบ 8 ชั่วโมงเพิ่มโอทีได้ สบายๆ

เพราะฉะนั้น งานสังสรรค์มาคู่กับการทำงาน

เพราะฉะนั้นนอกเวลางาน คือการเสพย์ความสุขเพื่อตัวกูมากๆ ทดแทนพลังชีวิตที่งานสูบไป

เพราะฉะนั้น บริโภคนิยม ซื้อด่ะ กินด่ะ จ่ายด่ะ เอาด่ะ (หรืออย่างไร?)

เพราะฉะนั้น มีปากก็พูดๆไป ก่อนแล้วค่อยมาแก้ตัวว่าตั้งใจช่วยธนาคารทีหลังกันถูกประณาม

เพราะฉะนั้น ยิ้มแก้มปริยินดีกับนางเอกสวรรค์เบี่ยงที่ถูกพระเอกข่มขืนและที่พระเอกรวย

There were approximately fifty people in attendance not including children. I'm sure there might have been a larger crowd if the concert was held in a larger town. If she had been an athlete I have no doubt the event would have been well attended. Two words can sum up the main interest of our small town: sports bar. Still, I was glad to see there are some music lovers that live here as well.

How does a farm girl from a small northern town become a harpist anyway? She said that she went to Canada. She took up harp playing on the side while working on her Master's Degree. She played beautifully and received a standing ovation at the end of her hour long performance. I came away thinking about taking up harp lessons myself. There is just something indescribable about the music of the harp. I'm not a mystic but there is something about the music that seems to touch the innermost part of you. It was a lovely night.

This is an extremely innovative conception for people who enjoy the expression of tattoo art, but don't want to be job limited or have everybody see them all of the time.

In the passing, I have also seen portraits that are based off of the same concept. And you already know that there will be a post for that in the near future.

~FreshediZion ~

Over the last 20 years, the US has been awarded 126 Nobel Prizes compared to Britain's nine.

Ho imparato... che nessuno è perfetto... Finché non ti innamori.

Ho imparato... che la vita è dura...Ma io di più!!!

Ho imparato.. .che le opportunità non vanno mai perse.

Quelle che lasci andare tu...le prende qualcun altro.

Ho imparato... che quando serbi rancore e amarezza la felicità va da

un'altra parte.

Ho imparato...Che bisognerebbe sempre usare parole buone...

Perché domani forse si dovranno rimangiare.

Ho imparato... che un sorriso è un modo economico

 per migliorare il tuo aspetto.

Ho imparato...che non posso scegliere come mi sento...

Ma posso sempre farci qualcosa.

Ho imparato... che quando tuo figlio

appena nato tiene il tuo dito nel suo piccolo pugno...

 ti ha agganciato per la vita.

Ho imparato... che tutti vogliono vivere in cima alla montagna....

Ma tutta la felicità e la crescita avvengono mentre la scali.

Ho imparato.... che bisogna godersi

il viaggio e non pensare solo alla meta.

Ho imparato...che è meglio dare consigli solo in due circostanze...

Quando sono richiesti e quando ne dipende la vita.

Ho imparato...che meno tempo spreco...più cose faccio.

With all of the craziness lately, I think it is fitting to settle down for a relaxing and healthy weekend with one of those gratuitous milestone posts.....here's NUMBER FIFTY! 

My liver is fully functioning again, my right thumb is almost back to 100%, and this is the first (and last) truly "free weekend" that I've had for a while.  You know, I realize it might look like I am into some pretty crazy shit, and I guess I am, BUT deep down I'm just an old suburban midwestern guy.  I'm almost 39 years old, and as it is appropriate for my age, during the spring I look forward to nothing more than getting up early on Saturday and heading to the farmer's market.  Though it is small, I am very, VERY loyal to our local Parkville Market.  I will on occasion venture down to the River Market or out to Brookside, but I'd much rather give my money to our twenty wonderful farmers and vendors. 

Due to my own laziness and busy schedule, this morning was my first visit to the market this season.  Granted, there isn't a ton of stuff available right now......spring onions, mixed greens, asparagus, herbs for planting, etc.  But that's beside the point, there isn't anything as nice as getting down there around 7am on a sunny Saturday morning and just smelling that spring air, no matter how plentiful the bounty.  Of course, this is also my first trip since surgery.....so I didn't let myself go crazy.  There's nothing worse than letting farm fresh veggies wither and die in the fridge.  I did pick up some rosemary and summer savory plants for growing, as well as some mixed greens, gorgeous baby arugula, and some stunning morel mushrooms.  Sure, they are an extravagant expense, but what the hell, I mean just LOOK at these things....

I realize that what I need now is at least a day just to relax, detox, and have some nice healthy food.  It's very easy to slip into that trap where you get into the convenient slider foods because you are busy, and because sometimes you STILL lose weight despite eating them, but I'm not crazy.....I know that the only way to sustain my success and remain healthy enough to have the occasional weekend that rivals ancient Rome is to treat my body right the rest of the time.  So with that in mind I think I'm going to get some light yardwork done, watch a ton of HowardTV, and make a great salad that I can eat for the next couple of days.

I've got the mixed greens which I will supplement with the arugula......and for the dressing I'm going to modify a Giada (aka Skull Baby) recipe by starting with some good fruity olive oil, fry big hunks of the spring onions in it, then add halved garlic cloves along with whole stems of rosemary and savory (so that I can remove them).  Once I remove the garlic and herbs, and the onions are good and soft, in goes a handful of chopped fresh parsley and thyme, along with a little fresh lemon juice.  Off the heat, a little balsamic, some salt and pepper, fried garlic hunks go back in......and it's ready for the greens.  For the protein I'll add some sauteed bay scallops that were on sale, and a side of glorious and indescribable sauteed morels.  Not a bad Saturday afternoon and evening. 

Christ I'm boring today.  That's okay I guess, but there has to be more...... oh yeah, this week I've been obsessed with a couple of phrases.  I do that from time to time and I wear them out to the point where my friends just go "stop".  The first one is "sex crazed and retard strong"; I've been using that to describe myself a lot.  And the second is calling someone a "baby gorilla".  Long story involving a torture contest on Stern with guys getting waxed and Don Rickles in the movie "Dirty Work".....I won't get into it.  It's a beautiful spring day in Kansas City today, and I'm having a tough time cranking up the angst and irony machines.....so I'll stick with the mundane.  After all, it's my 50th post I'm sure I can think of several things I have learned since surgery....

First of all, surgery has reversed my lactose intolerance.  I'm sure the nutritionists would not like me using milk (whole milk from Shatto Farms!) as a source of some protein and delicious beverage, but now that I don't have to run to the bathroom after drinking it..... I love the stuff.  You know what else I drink that I'm not supposed to?  Orange juice!  Yes, I drink whole milk and I drink orange juice....I'm officially out of the closet with that.  No clue what would reverse the lactose intolerance, but the funny thing is, a friend of one of my professors had gastric bypass and BECAME lactose intolerant for the first time after she had surgery.  It's bizarro bowel syndrome! 

I don't feel too bad about enjoying delicious, whole milk after finding out the other day that I can no longer eat one of the most important basic food groups............bacon.  How fucking cruel is that?  Well, I CAN eat it (just like I can obviously still drink bourbon...at weddings), and I can see where it could become the KING of all slider foods, but I had a couple of pieces the other day....I think for the first time since surgery, honestly.  I've had chopped bacon on salads, but not whole pieces.  After two pieces, the telltale signs began....slight sweat, nausea......not close to full-blown dumping syndrome with the dry heaves or anything, but an effective behavior modification measure nonetheless.  I just cannot eat extremely rich or fatty foods in anything close to a full portion without serious physical consequences.  I guess that is a good thing, it's just so goddamn cruel.  I mean, bacon.  Come the fuck ON!  Too much sugar or too much fat equals some mental reinforcement that approaches the Ludovico Technique from A Clockwork Orange.  Before long I'll be at a restaurant, a waitress will ask if I'd like a side of bacon with my omelette, and I'll shit my pants and start crying. 

I can go through my daily liquid intake a lot easier than I thought I would be able to.  I can't CHUG anything, but if I'm thirsty or have a strong taste for some Crystal Lite that day, I can put it away.  At first I thought I'd have to take one sip, wait five minutes, take another sip, wait another five minutes, etc.  It's not that way at all.  I can sip pretty steadily.  No complaints there. 

I'm sure I could dissect the minutia of daily life and come up with a list of things that are either annoying or great about post-surgery life.  The whole story at this point is that I have absolutely zero regrets (other than when some fast food commercial comes on TV and I go....OH SHIT!  WHY DIDN'T I GORGE ON THAT BEFORE I HAD SURGERY!  GODDAMMIT!), and everything that was positive in my life has become more positive.  I am actually at a place now where the first thing on my mind when I interact with people ISN'T my weight, and I can come across as unbearably engaging and chatty...which is just my style.  I have that certain...I don't know what.  Sure, I'm well past the halfway mark, but I do have more weight to lose.  It will come off, just not as quickly.  There are little reminders and reinforcers along the way that let you know you are on the right track. For example, a couple of weeks ago when I went to buy slacks for the wedding I had to keep trying on smaller and smaller sizes in order to get it right.  Then when I found a cool camp shirt that I wanted to buy, and they didn't have a small enough size in stock for me (smallest they had was a 2X...and it wrapped around my stomach), that was a pretty good moment that I had to gloat about to the clerk.  Another twenty or thirty pounds and I'll be shopping at "normal" stores....sure, I'll be buying their biggest sizes, but anything is better than your run of the mill big and tall selection.  Now that school is almost over for real (3 more Tuesday night class periods), I'll get back into golf, and I'll have a much larger range of motion and the stamina to play a couple of rounds if I want to.  When I fly to DC in 2 weeks, Nashville in July and Chicago in September, I won't have the usual two weeks of dread beforehand, thinking about the size of coach airline seats.

When you drop about 135 pounds you begin to realize that your weight has not only been a burden your whole life, but also your biggest crutch.  It is the excuse that lets you put limits on everything that you say and do.  Now that I'm beginning to get past a lot of that, I realize how much free time it brings, and how wonderful AND frightening that really is.  Carrying that much weight around is like having a big filter on you at all times.  Now, for better or worse, I can start seeing possibilities that I haven't seen before, and interact with people without constantly trying to make up for the fact that I'm really fat.  I'm still a big guy, that is true, but now I'm not always thinking "okay, I'm the fattest guy in this room, class, department, building, city".....ad nauseum.  There is the tendency to regret not doing the surgery ten years ago, but I honestly don't think I was at a mental place to handle it then.  I'm almost forty, I've lost a lot of years due to the weight, but this was exactly the right age to do this, so again, no regrets.

And I guess since this is the gratuitous milestone post I need to throw the gratuitious "before and after" in here.  Did my best with my remedial photoshop skills, and I wish it looked more dramatic than it does, but you get the general idea.....

So there you have it.....nine months down, many years to go.  Overall, I feel like a pretty lucky guy.  Lucky to have missed out on any serious health issues before my surgery, lucky to have the cog in the machine job that I do, and lucky to have such great family and friends.  More good stuff to come here....we're doing a big bbq contest next weekend, I'm heading to DC a week from this coming Thursday, Nashville in July for a wine event that makes the list of "Top Ten Charity Events in the United States"......so barring homelessness due to unemployment in these uncertain times, things should be okay for a while.

I can imagine the waiter gave all the right reasons for returning the money, but think about it for awhile. Who in his right mind would have taken the money and ran?

First of all, it is a million bucks. That sort of money isn't normally carried around by people who would wail helplessly if they lost it. That sort of money comes with a warning label: "take at your own risk, fool." Ever watch No Country For Old Men?

Second, if you took the money and ran, how long would it really last? The label 'millionaire' has lost its lustre in a world where a grade school education costs nearly a hundred thousand pesos a year (or a semester - or trimester - depending on where your kid is studying), where you can easily rack up 80+ thousand a year in utilities bills, and where you can't get decent housing for less than a 300 thousand. So, you might be able to drop off the map and live off the money for awhile, but then you'd have to get back in the job market - oh but wait, that won't be so easy because now, everyone knows you're a thief. You get back on the grid, even with a new identity (which isn't cheap either) and every minute will be spent wondering whether the law is about to catch up with you.

And third, assuming this waiter immediately went to his supervisor with the money, if you didn't come clean with the money and the owner came calling (as you know he will coz he prolly missed the money the minute he hit the first stop light and the very first thing he's gonna do is go back to where he had the money last) what're you gonna do? Pretend you didn't see anything? Are you seriously going to tell a guy who had a million bucks that you cleaned up his table and didn't notice the plastic bag full of money? Riiiiiight. And even if you did had the chutzpah to even try that, what do you do when they find the money on the premises (in your locker, maybe?) and realize that you had lied all along? Shit, man. You'd be so busted.

All told, anyone - except a total moron - in that waiter's position would have done the same thing. So, he wasn't a hero. If he's gonna be given credit for anything, it's for being reasonably intelligent enough to see that taking the money would be the equivalent of taking a fork and sticking it in your own eye.

SO why is this guy being touted as a hero? That's because we're so fucking peecee that we have to celebrate every little 'good' thing done by every single one. And perhaps also because we're so fucking starved for any example of social 'goodness' that we pounce on every little hint of something being done out of nobility.

The part about being too peecee I attribute to Oprah and the influence of Hollywood as well as on the proliferation of Oprah wannabees in Philippine show business. It's the tyranny of goody-two-shoesism. The part about being starved for goodness is prolly a symptom of our growing addiction to feel-good stories that convince us we as a people are actually not as a bad as (ironically enough) we portray ourselves to the world and anyone who cares to listen. Let me tell you, I am sick and tired of hearing people say 'only in the Philippines!' when describing something moronic; or 'ang pilipino talaga o' or 'pilipino kasi e.'

It's kinda like seeing a woman in a blouse that's meant to be midriff bearing constantly tugging the damned thing down - if you're so friggin' insecure about your belly, bitch, then quit wearing such tiny shirts!

We are so quick to put fellow Filipinos down that we've pretty much convinced ourselves that we are scum. But deep inside us, we don't want to be scum, and so we trumpet every little smidgen of proof that we are actually not that big a waste of space. We're so conflicted about our own worth that we end up celebrating even mediocrity! Kids get togas for finishing kindergarten, for heaven's sake! WTF is that?

And that's exactly how the media is treating this waiter. Rewarding him with accolades for doing what he really should have done in the first place; calling him a role-model (as if every other Filipino were a thief who would abscond with that money - and his whole life be damned! - the first chance they got!) and a hero. That is so fucking pathetic.

About the only thing that makes sense in this waiter's story is that he got a hundred grand for doing what he should have done anyway. At that, it only makes sense for the stupid moron who left the money in the first place. The asshole would have been skinned alive by whoever had an interest in that money, so it makes sense that he'd be so fucking grateful. As it is, he's prolly still gonna get hosed down for losing a hundred grand out of sheer stupidity, but at least he didn't lose a million.

So here's my plea: stop celebrating mediocrity. And the only way we're ever going to manage that is to stop with the self-flagellation. When we deride ourselves, we don't just give other people licence to look down on us - remember that foreign bitch at the airport? - or make fun of us - like that bitch from Wisteria - we also perpetuate the retarded notion that Filipinos are worthless. We are not.

~

A bit of pop-psychology: have you ever considered that the reason we are often so quick to say things like 'pilipino kasi' is that it gives us a certain sense of superiority? By voicing our disgust at someone else's actions, we are impliedly - and not necessarily knowingly - announcing that we are better than them because we would never do such a thing. Chew on that for awhile.

After I left IN, I got the wonderful pleasure to go and stay with Elise's Family for just a few days.  We got some Wedding stuff done, like picking and buying our rings along with a few other things. It was good to see her family again before I finally could head home for the summer.

THEN!!! (after a grueling 11 hour drive) I was FINALLY! (after 2.5 weeks) HOME!  it feels good to be back in South Carolina again.  I truly love this state of mine! Since being home I have done a few things: I have beated Halo 3, I have secured a summer job at the YMCA doing matainance (that happened today, and i am very pleased about having an income for the summer), and I got to take a flight with my Dad.

We flew down to see my sister, Aubrey, in Greenwood, SC.  It was great.  The weather was good, except for some pretty stiff wind and the day was warm.  My brother-in-law picked us up and we had a good lunch with them, then we flew back...it was that simple.  Flying in a single engine plane is harder explain, unless you can see...so for you pleasure i took a video of the taking off and the landing (probably the most exciting parts). 

 [googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=690333844043348786&hl=en]

and the lyrics to follow along:

"Now Peter Piper picked peppers but Run rocked rhymes
Humpty Dumpty fell down that's his hard time
Jack B. Nimble what nimble and he was quick
But Jam Master cut faster Jack's on Jay's dick
Now Little Bo Peep cold lost her sheep
And Rip van Winkle fell the hell asleep
And Alice chillin somewhere in Wonderland
Jack's servin Jill a bucket in his hand
And Jam Master Jay's making out our sound
The turntables might wobble but they don't fall down

Now Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose both did their thing
But Jam Master's gettin loose and D.M.C.'s the king
Cause he's adult entertainer
Child educator
Jam Master Jay king of the crossfader
He's the better of the best best believe he's the baddest
Perfect timin when I'm climbin I'm a rhymin apparatus
Lot of guts
When he cuts
Girls move their butts
His name is Jay hear the play he must be nuts
And on the mix real quick and I'd like to say
He's not Flash but he's fast and his name is Jay

Jay's like King Midas as I was told
Everything that he touched turned to gold
He's the greatest of the greater get it straight
He's great
Playing fame cause his name is known in every state
His name is Jay
To see him play
Will make you say
God damn that DJ made my day
Like the butcher the baker
The candlestick maker
He's a maker a breaker
And a title taker
Like the little old lady who lived in a shoe
If cuts were kids he would be you
Not lyin y'all he's the best I know
And if I lie my nose will grow
Like a little wooden boy named Pinocchio
And you all know how the story go

Tricks are for kids he plays much gigs
He's a big bad wolf and you're the three pigs
He's a big bad wolf in your neighborhood
Not bad meaning bad but bad meaning good

We're Run-D.M.C. got a beef to settle
D's not Hansel he's not Gretel
Jay's a winner
Not a beginner
His pockets get fat others get thinner
Jump on Jay like cows jump moons
People chase Jay like dish and spoon
And like all fairy tales end
You'll see Jay again my friend"

Let's accept every single one of their criticisms about Pinker's tone, his paranoia, and his obviously less than impartial personal opinions about people like Leon Kass. Nevertheless, Pinker does very clearly and very directly raise a lot of serious, and possibly fundamental, problems with the concept of "dignity" in bioethics. And none of these writers seem interested in responding to that particular challenge. Which is too bad, because that's really the only interesting part of the whole debate in the first place.

As one commenter said:

I’m not convinced Pinker has all the answers, but he seems to be taking the dignity argument more seriously than Jacobs, Douthat, or Levin. I tend to expect better of all three of those names. If Pinker was only 20% substance, that’s a higher percentage than any of the rest of us have achieved today.

Just to be a little provocative myself, let me say that I suspect the high regard that conservative scholars have for "dignity" lies in the fact that it, unlike the concepts of liberty and personal autonomy mediated by due process which have served us quite well so far, "dignity" is malleable enough that it allows the otherwise absurd idea that a random citizen sitting on their front porch is violating their own dignity by behaving in a way those scholars find distasteful (like licking an ice cream cone, or holding the hand of their gay lover). This also alleviates the often distressing inability to directly justify their dislikes as being immoral or harmful in any sensible, non-theological fashion.

"Dignity" also has the amazing power to declare morally important actions and objects that have no "personal" capacity in and of themselves: such as nerveless, intention-less cells that happen to have certain proteins active (i.e. fertilized eggs), but lack any objective capacity that anyone can tie to an ethical interest. If you can't explain why breaking apart an embryo is morally wrong in any sensibly direct fashion, well then you can always argue that doing so is a sort of bitter voodoo-doll assault on humanity's dignity, by proxy!

As is often the case, I'm being a little glib here myself. But I don't think I'm entirely without merit either. It's true that personal autonomy has it's own gray areas and problems, but it at least makes sense on some concrete level, especially as a principle value in a diverse and contentious society, and that provides a far more promising foundation than a concept that seems to mean everything and nothing. Furthermore, many of its problems can be redressed far more easily than the critics I referenced above allow. Even under a personal autonomy framework, we can, for instance, still understand why respecting the wishes of someone when they are not actively awake or unconscious would be important.

In that spirit, here's a much more intriguing and substantive response to the Pinker article, from another writer at the American Scene, Noah Millman.

The book looks at how women are caught (trapped?) between feminism and femininity, self-affirmation and self-improvement, "playing an injured party" and independence. It seems that the media and men get an unfair amount of blame, but Laura Kipnis takes a different approach and looks at how women themselves can be their own worst enemy.

This book has to be the funniest book on feminism I have ever read (not that I've read many, but I've read enough). One reviewer referred to Kipnis as ‘the intelligent woman's version of whatever Carrie Bradshaw was supposed to be on "Sex and the City." ' I guess you could say this book is about contradictions, where women are "suspended between progress and tradition" whether it's regarding the sharing of housework or getting a boob job--"for yourself", of course.

The contradiction stems from "the female psyche," where feminism has come against on unforeseen opponent, "the inner woman." The four essays tackle the most obstinate aspects of the inner woman--and let's face it, we all have one.

The first essay, Envy, is about what men have that women want. And one of the most interesting points made was about pay equity, "women's wages are up to 80 percent of men's because male wages are down, which evens things out. It looks as though the dirty little secret of the last 30 years is that the job market played women off against men to depress pay." In other words, "equally screwed over," at least for the middle-class. In the end, we're all working harder, so the question becomes, for everyone, one of quality of life. She also writes about beauty and consumer culture. She writes, "The two [feminism and femininity] continue to battle it out, nowhere more than within women's relations to their bodies, which is to say, within the entirety of the female self-relation."

On to Sex. This is the part where she tackles the issue of the female orgasm (I wonder if I'll get more hits for writing that?) and sexuality. And that's all I'm going to say about this piece, because it's the weekend and I'm getting tired of writing, besides, I want to talk about dirt.

Dirt (a.k.a. housework): I think about this essay every time I find myself getting frustrated with my husband's inability to pick up after himself and clean. I think of this essay every time I spend a Saturday morning frantically cleaning (like today). She writes, "How is it that women have managed to over throw the shackles of chastity--to cite another rather significant vestige of traditional femininity--more easily than bondage to the vacuum cleaner?" I personally blame it on my neat-freak father, although I am no where near as bad--I'm sure he thinks my house is a mess (Mom, do you know?) Kipnis blames women's obsession with cleanliness to the fact that we have periods and vaginas--on an unconscious, "archaic" level.

And finally, we end with the essay Vulnerability. This essay had many facts about violence towards women that surprised me--basically, it isn't has bad as we make it out to be. This essay is about both the reality of violence and our fear of it. She deconstructs the work of Andrea Dworkin, and Naomi Wolf's article in the New York Times about a sexual encounter with a much loved professor, twenty years earlier.

This book definitely gave me lots to think about and whenever I find myself trapped between feminism and femininity (a word that I can't even spell--I always miss the second "in") I'll have this book to remember.

Now I have to go clean the bathroom.

En cette Journée internationale contre l'homophobie, je ne serai pas bien bien original, car je fais partie du 70% des Canadiens qui se sentent à l'aise avec cette question. Il est donc très difficile pour moi d'écrire là-dessus, puisque je ne voudrais pas tomber dans la moralisation plate...

Des homosexuels, surtout hommes, j'en ai beaucoup plus côtoyé voilà une dizaine d'années quand je frayais avec la scène électronique, pour ne pas dire « rave », mais le fait que j'en ai moins autour de moi aujourd'hui ne me pose pas non plus de problème... C'est hautement circonstanciel et normal.

Je connais des gens homophobes (quand même assez légèrement en majorité...) et, pour en avoir parlé avec eux, cela semble être plus physique que réfléchi... Question d'éducation ç'a l'air, et j'ai même l'impression que ça leur semble honteux. Quand quelqu'un est capable d'en parler sans fermer les portes, c'est déjà bon signe. Pour les boomers homophobes, c'est une autre paire de manches, mais ils sont déjà de toute façon en voie d'extinction... cela écrit avec un clin d'oeil du côté le plus visible!

Autre chose qui ne me pose pas de problème, ce sont les blagues là-dessus, car il est extrêmement rare qu'elles soient carrément méchantes, donc homophobes, enfin celles que j'entends autour de moi, dans mon milieu fortement hétérosexuel, et surtout adulte. Je pense que tout le monde mérite une petite blague de temps en temps, qui aime bien châtie bien, non?

Je suis certain que dans le Village de Nathalie (expression que j'ai entendu de la bouche d'un ancien collègue DJ homosexuel), les blagues sur l'hétérosexualité fusent et ça ne me dérange pas du tout!

Mais je suis d'accord pour dire qu'à l'enfance et à l'adolescence, le sujet des blagues, qui prennent plus souvent un ton discriminatoire, est un gros problème. La tendance culturelle mondiale, très axée sur le hip-hop/R&B gangstérilisant, met de l'avant un culte de l'hétérosexualité qui se mélange parfois et souvent au culte de Dieu, ce qui est incompatible avec l'homosexualité, surtout mâle... Et donc, où le lesbianisme est instrumentalisé à outrance.

Vivement pour que cette journée disparaisse, mais malheureusement, nous sommes loin du compte. Cette journée n'est vraiment pas une fête...

(Photo : new-ars - ce billet est inspiré en grande partie d'une initiative de Zed Blog, qui regroupe une multitude de billets sur le sujet de l'homophobie.)

By DICK MORRIS & EILEEN MCGANN

Published on FOXNews.com on May 16, 2008.

Printer-Friendly Version

President Bush is absolutely right to criticize sharply direct negotiations with Iranian President Ahmadinejad. Barack Obama’s embrace of the idea of direct negotiations is both naïve and dangerous and should be a big issue in the campaign.

The reason not to negotiate with Ahmadinejad is not simply to stand on ceremony or some kind of policy of non-recognition. It is based on the fundamental need to topple his regime by increasing the sense the Iranian people have — that he has isolated Iran from the rest of the world, to its severe and ongoing detriment.

The Iranian regime is almost entirely dependent on oil and gas revenues to pay for the vast program of social subsidies with which the government buys domestic support. Gasoline costs 35 cents a gallon in Teheran. Bread and all other staples are subsidized from public funds. But 85 percent of all government revenues come from oil and gas exports. There lies the regime’s vulnerability.

Iran is sitting atop the second largest oil reserves in the world. Only Saudi Arabia has more. But it can’t get at them. It lacks the foreign investment and technology necessary to increase, or even to sustain, its petroleum output. Under the Shah, Iran pumped upwards of six million barrels of oil a day. Now, Iran generates fewer than four million daily barrels. With domestic consumption of energy increasing at 10 percent a year — due in part to the massive subsidies which hold the price down — Iran is expected to see its oil exports cut in half by 2011 and entirely eliminated by 2014. If Iran cannot export oil, it cannot pay for social peace and the regime could be in dire trouble.

Without subsidies, the Iranian people, half of whom are under 30 and only 40 percent of whom are ethnically Farsi, will become restive and resentful. Already, many complain that Ahmadinejad’s policies have led to global isolation of Iran and stymied economic growth and social upward mobility. While opinion surveys in Iran indicate that the people support the nuclear aspirations of the regime, they are not willing to pay a price of international isolation.

If a President Obama were to meet with President Ahmadinejad, it would send a signal to the Iranian people that they are not isolated but that the rest of the world has come to respect them and to have to deal with them. The leading argument for toppling the current regime will have been fatally undermined.

But if the West sustains a policy of economic sanctions, curbs on foreign investment, and diplomatic isolation, the Iranian regime’s days are numbered.

Official United Nations sanctions are having some effect on Iran but the real power lies in cutting off investment by foreign companies, particularly in the banking and energy sectors. American companies are already prohibited from doing business there, although General Electric may be seeking ways around this prohibition through foreign subsidiaries.

Frank Gaffney, formerly of Reagan’s Pentagon, has pioneered the use of private economic disinvestment in companies that do business with Iran, Syria, North Korea, or Sudan. On his Web site, he has identified almost 500 companies that do business with these terror sponsoring nations. They include such international powerhouses as Sieman’s, Shell, Repsol, BNP Paribus, and Hyundai. He has crafted a terror free mutual fund which can earn good returns while avoiding investment in any of these companies.

Missouri Treasurer Sarah Steelman — now running for governor — pioneered disinvesting pension funds in these companies. Now California, Florida, and Louisiana have followed suit.

We need to let these policies work and global isolation of Iran is the way to do it. Negotiating with Ahmadinejad would simply boost his domestic stature and enhance his political stability, the exact opposite of what we should — and must — be doing.

Ni hao, ni hao. "I had been walking along a street in Brazzaville only 10 minutes when a merry band of Congolese kids interrupted their ballplaying to greet me. In Africa, white visitors usually hear greetings like “hello, mista” or “hey, whitey,” but these smiling kids lined along the street have expanded their repertoire. They yell “hello” in Chinese, and then they start up their game again. To them, all foreigners are Chinese." Serge Michel comments in FP.

images via Paolo Woods website

Believers will always find proof for the existence of God: they will find confirmation for his presence in the minutiae of their daily lives, in the prayers that they believe are answered, in the trials that they come through unscathed - in the beauty, meaning and order they perceive in nature. They find their confirmations of the existence of God in friendship and brotherhood, romantic and maternal love. They see it in internally consistent theological arguments in the big bang itself, contradicting the anthropic principle.

But are they wrong to do so? Are the religious sceptics definitely right?

Yes.

nikhil, my little globetrotter, was in heaven at this event.

"Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish! And what your potential is!" - Anne Frank

Anne Frank wrote that comment while being hunted, and eventually dying in a concentration camp, for simply being Jewish. Some so-called world leaders would have you believe she never existed, and she would suffer the same fate in some parts of the world today. And people like to think that we've advanced so far beyond the horrors of her time. We haven't. Let her words sink in... they're surely worth hearing.

"As the Imam said, Israel must be wiped off the map." - Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

"I have no use for Jews; they are and remain Jews." - Yasser Arafat

"....the personification of the devil as the symbol of all evil assumes the living shape of the Jew." - Adolf Hitler

"Thou shalt not kill." - God

-epicself

Well I haven't been blogging to an idealized expectation... but there is good reason-- SPRING!  

This time of year is definitely infectious for us.  Things are blooming, the soil is deep, dark, rich and inviting (which reminds me, the compost needs turning)  and I simply can't resist when the weather beckons and stays as wonderful as it has.  We spend most of our time outdoors when spring and summer arrive so I can only apologize for posting infrequently and sporadically.  And this summer we'll be either vacationing in India, the Rocky Mountains, or beachin' it on Big Sur-- so even more intermittent rambles, c'est ca!

This weekend is also Chicago's Green Festival and we'll be heading out for the party.  Personally I can't think of a better way of treating the family with some fun, gorgeous weather, great food and extended community company!

Wishing all of you a very Bountiful, Healthy and Happy Summer!

-shanti

                                                    Being an artist

                                     means, not reckoning and counting,

                                             but ripening like the tree

                                          which does not force its sap

                                               and stands confident

                                             in the storms of spring

                                       without the fear that after them

                                              may come no summer

                                             -RAINER MARIA RILKE-

Ben Stein's film Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed has some pretty shocking interview footage with noted atheist Richard Dawkins, who admits on film that he believes that life on Earth was "seeded" by an advanced species from another planet. Another atheist evolutionist interviewed in the film explains animatedly to Ben Stein that life began on the backs of crystals, which helped to organize the structure of the earliest cells (it would be interesting to see what a cellular biologist would say about that). Debates about whether or not the Intelligent Design scientists Ben Stein interviews in the film were indeed fired, denied tenure or otherwise punished for mentioning intelligence or design in their lectures or publications are really secondary, in my mind, to the "best and brightest" atheists admitting to belief in some rather far-fetched means of the appearance of life on Earth.

Now, admittedly, I'm not remotely as droll as Ben Stein and not nearly as attractive but I, too, have pulled off a coup, albeit a much more humble one, in interviewing an atheist evolutionist.  Otherwise, this transcript is untouched. The person in question very publicly uses his name, cites his credentials and advertises his website, so I have chosen not to exclude his last name as it appears in the original transcript. By way of introduction, allow me to say that this gentleman has a B.A. in physics from a respected university (not top-drawer, but respected) and spends each evening in a chat room repeating the same anti-God, anti-religion slogans again and again by means of "pop-up" scripts which are triggered by pressing keys on his keyboard. Among his favorites are:  "No gods are detected." and "I am old and very wise."  Last evening, he made an important admission concerning the possibility of a deity or deities.

<orchidaceae> i am only really saying that it *would be nice* if there were more honesty in science
<orchidaceae> that certain things dont add up with current understandings of evolution
<glk1> Science requires honesty
<Lifeisfunny> atheist scientist with a shi®t load of pride, dead set to prove there's no such thing as a spirit realm and that there isn't a God
<@pete-> Lifeisfunny, I asked u nicely to stop the offensive language, why not?
<orchidaceae> that the possibility of a creator (richard dawkins thinks it was aliens!) is not impossible
<glk1> No spirits are detected
<lazaruslupin> glk go to a bar
<Lifeisfunny> the term 'nicely' is arguable
<orchidaceae> glk1 many things arent detected, yet they're promoted in various theories
<glk1> Millions of gods might exist
<orchidaceae> thank you, that is more honest
<orchidaceae> whether one is disposed to believe in them or not is a secondary question
<glk1> None can be refuted
<orchidaceae> the issue is, they are a possibility
<orchidaceae> and it is dishonest to deny that
<orchidaceae> thank you, you made my night, mr kendall :)
<glk1> good
<glk1> I am old and very wise.
<dysmind> and apparently modest.
* orchidaceae puts out a platter of sandwich fixings for the room

There are people who have been waiting for years for glk1 to say what he said in this transcript (you know who you are).

Truly, this was the cherry on the cake of an evening at the theater.