Monday, February 23, 2004
Home Sweet Home
I'm heading back to the old homestead, back at the real kalilily time. Sorry for the inconvenience, but b!X has finally got his DSL back and so I'm back in business on MT. At least I am now -- until the next time fate intervenes.
Debacles
I'm frantically trying to turn around a editing job that needs to be done in a couple of days, but I just have to note an excellent piece by Walter Cronkite about The Marriage Debacle. The right wing would do well to pay attention to the perspectives of this respected elder statesman about the gay marriage issue, which conclude with the following:
Where is the Christian tolerance in those right-wing Christian leaders who would impose their religious beliefs on the entire diverse population of the United States, even to the extent of a Constitutional amendment curtailing our rights of religious freedom?
As the CCR leadership presses this matter, which they depict as a moral issue, they threaten a religious war that will split our nation at a time in our lives when unity would be helpful in attacking far more critical problems on which the future of our nation depends -- our foreign policy, the economy, education, medical care and the environment, to name a few.
In the difficult days ahead, the tolerant among us -- Republican, Democratic or Independent, Christian, Muslim, Jewish or nonbeliever -- are going to have to try to preach another morality, and that is the morality of tolerance.
And speaking of debacles, what the hell is Ralph Nader thinking!!! He used to be a smart man who understood that personal ego needs to come second to larger human issues. How the mighty have fallen.
Where is the Christian tolerance in those right-wing Christian leaders who would impose their religious beliefs on the entire diverse population of the United States, even to the extent of a Constitutional amendment curtailing our rights of religious freedom?
As the CCR leadership presses this matter, which they depict as a moral issue, they threaten a religious war that will split our nation at a time in our lives when unity would be helpful in attacking far more critical problems on which the future of our nation depends -- our foreign policy, the economy, education, medical care and the environment, to name a few.
In the difficult days ahead, the tolerant among us -- Republican, Democratic or Independent, Christian, Muslim, Jewish or nonbeliever -- are going to have to try to preach another morality, and that is the morality of tolerance.
And speaking of debacles, what the hell is Ralph Nader thinking!!! He used to be a smart man who understood that personal ego needs to come second to larger human issues. How the mighty have fallen.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Out of Focus
I think I remember a time when I could focus on one thing at a time -- a poem, a person, a pleasure -- when the process was as important as the product. I'm trying to remember when the last time was that I felt that focus, that stillpoint. Oddly enough, I think it was was a decade ago when I used to go out on Thursday nights to dance the Hustle for hours on end. I would follow the lead with such total focus that all I was aware of was my blood humming to the rhythm of the bass and my body carving sharp arcs through the smokey air.
I think I used to know that same kind of focus when writing a really good poem, feeling the rhythm come, hearing the hum of swarming words. But that was when I lived alone, with long, quiet moments to feed my focus. That was when I would have hours of down-time at work, alone in my own office, with nothing to do but let myself succumb to the processes of dream time.
I think what happened is that I got really good at my job -- multi-tasking, meeting deadlines, serving many masters. Scheme thinking. Quick thinking. No time to dream, alone, in a corner with a window.
I think what happened is I learned to care too much. I think what happened is that I let the world nibble away at my layers so that I lost my deepest secrets.
"The Many Breasted Artemis" my shrink once noted, as I unloaded my distress at being expected to always be the nurturer, the feeder, the source of unlimited resources, the problem-solver, the responsible one.
I thought that when I retired, I would be able to find, again, that dreamy focus. Instead, it takes me until midnight to finally breathe evenly and deeply, to let go of all of the knowing. It takes me until midnight to finally feel the yearning for deep secrets.
But to have secrets, one has to have a life beyond the giving of care.
I'm waiting for my time to come again, when I will, again, simmer and stir, ladle, at last, into mounds of midnight words, that witch's brew.
I think I used to know that same kind of focus when writing a really good poem, feeling the rhythm come, hearing the hum of swarming words. But that was when I lived alone, with long, quiet moments to feed my focus. That was when I would have hours of down-time at work, alone in my own office, with nothing to do but let myself succumb to the processes of dream time.
I think what happened is that I got really good at my job -- multi-tasking, meeting deadlines, serving many masters. Scheme thinking. Quick thinking. No time to dream, alone, in a corner with a window.
I think what happened is I learned to care too much. I think what happened is that I let the world nibble away at my layers so that I lost my deepest secrets.
"The Many Breasted Artemis" my shrink once noted, as I unloaded my distress at being expected to always be the nurturer, the feeder, the source of unlimited resources, the problem-solver, the responsible one.
I thought that when I retired, I would be able to find, again, that dreamy focus. Instead, it takes me until midnight to finally breathe evenly and deeply, to let go of all of the knowing. It takes me until midnight to finally feel the yearning for deep secrets.
But to have secrets, one has to have a life beyond the giving of care.
I'm waiting for my time to come again, when I will, again, simmer and stir, ladle, at last, into mounds of midnight words, that witch's brew.
Friday, February 20, 2004
You can't choose your family....
... but you can choose your friends. And, in many cases, friends become better than family.
I'm thinking this because of conversations that have been going on as a result of something Shelley Powers wrote about "community" and that Jeneane Sessum took off on.
I'm thinking this because, surrounding the quilted piece that a friend made for/about me, I've hung photos of family and friends -- my community. Together they make up my "wall of power" -- of which I'll post a photo when I get back to my regular weblog.
I'm thinking about this because my family of origin includes too many narcissists. They wear me down, weary me, stir worry. So it's my friends who help to keep me sane.
Community.
Some people seem to need the support of a close -- and often closed -- community. They feel protected by norms, rules, limits which they are not supposed to cross. "Beyond here there be dragons" the old world maps used to say. Stay where it's safe.
Then, there are others, like me, who are more comfortable walking the rim. Not really outsiders, because we tend to keep our fingers on the other pulses. And not really loners, because we do form friendships. But we don't really join or participate in large group-think. We like the freedom of the range, dragons or not. It's not that we particularly like dragons, but we'd rather risk incineration than accept the confinement of rigid community. Rim Walkers. Warriors. Dragon-riders. Mythology is full of the glory of such lifestyles.
Somtimes it's nice to be nice. But spice is more alive, and also a lot more fun. You just have to make sure your skin is thick enough to withstand the heat.
I'm thinking this because of conversations that have been going on as a result of something Shelley Powers wrote about "community" and that Jeneane Sessum took off on.
I'm thinking this because, surrounding the quilted piece that a friend made for/about me, I've hung photos of family and friends -- my community. Together they make up my "wall of power" -- of which I'll post a photo when I get back to my regular weblog.
I'm thinking about this because my family of origin includes too many narcissists. They wear me down, weary me, stir worry. So it's my friends who help to keep me sane.
Community.
Some people seem to need the support of a close -- and often closed -- community. They feel protected by norms, rules, limits which they are not supposed to cross. "Beyond here there be dragons" the old world maps used to say. Stay where it's safe.
Then, there are others, like me, who are more comfortable walking the rim. Not really outsiders, because we tend to keep our fingers on the other pulses. And not really loners, because we do form friendships. But we don't really join or participate in large group-think. We like the freedom of the range, dragons or not. It's not that we particularly like dragons, but we'd rather risk incineration than accept the confinement of rigid community. Rim Walkers. Warriors. Dragon-riders. Mythology is full of the glory of such lifestyles.
Somtimes it's nice to be nice. But spice is more alive, and also a lot more fun. You just have to make sure your skin is thick enough to withstand the heat.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Worried and Weary
My mother turned 88 yesterday. I just had some major dental renovation completed. I haven't even begun my taxes. I finished knitting two sweaters for myself that came out really well. I keep thinking of all of the things I want to blog about and then get so tired that I never make it to the keyboard. But here it is, after 11 p.m. and here I am.
Speaking of knitting, Allan Moult, over there on the other side of the planet from me, is publishing an attractively designed online magazine, Leatherwood Online, that recently had a really neat article about
a powerful art installation .... enabling everyone and anyone in the community to actively participate in the creation of a statement reflecting their love, care and willingness to protect the beauty of the Styx forest from further old growth logging. People throughout the community could knit red wool into pieces as short or as long as they personally had time and ability to produce, to be sewn together into 'hugs' that would be wrapped around the bases of trees.
I love the photos of guys knitting these bright red "hugs," -- punk guys, guys in suits, guys tending bar. What a multi-layered message about what's really important!
Jim Kulleny at NoUtopia is always posting important messages that add significantly to my worry about what's happening to my country. I happen to really like his piece on The Incorporeal George Bush, that. along with a great cartoon depicting George Bush's Vietnam war "decorations," ends with
For some, though, class discrimination is a way of life and as natural as falling into the presidency. This is what should matter to a nation stuck with the silver-spooned George W. The particulars of his story are important only as they reveal that while the probable Democratic nominee chose to lay his life on the line, George was busy forming an essential and enduring part of his character: enjoying the perks of influence while testing the meaning and value of connections and learning to smirk about it.
Meanwhile, I've been in and out of the orkut.com poetry community, feeling like the "matriarch" that one of the poets (as a compliment) said I am. Well, I certainly have been writing and publishing poetry longer than most of the other poets in that community have been alive. As a matter of fact, I just took a big risk and applied to the New York State Writers Institute for acceptance into their upcoming workshop led by poet Eammon Grennan. They only accept "experienced" and "published" poets. While I fit into those categories, it still remains to be seen if the poems I submitted are good enough.
Actually, I did get accepted into and particpated in a Writers Institute workshop with John Montague, back in 1996. Suggestions he made for one of my poems helped me to get it published in The Berkshire Review.
I have no idea what my chances are of getting into the upcoming workshop, but, hell, it was worth a try.
I've been a little frustrated about not being able to post photos on this site. My friend Joan, the quilter, finished the piece she was making for me/about me. When b!X gets his DSL account straightened out, which he says might be as early as this Tuesday, I'll have to get back on my regular weblog and post a photo. I've got it hanging in the middle of what has become my "wall of power." Joan says that this piece is a reflection of her perception of my "inner" self. She's making another one for me that's more funky; she says that it includes an image of Betty Boop (a favorite character of mine) and one of my poems as well. Now, that's a real friend -- especially since, if she were going to actually sell the one that's hanging on my wall, she said she'd have to charge $300.
It's nigh onto midnight. Tomorrow I will find out if the people who need someone to edit their 400-page (about 8-times longer than it should be, as far as I'm concerned) proposal for a Charter School are willing to pay me enough to make it worth my while to get it done by their deadline, which is next Thursday. So, if I'm absent from here -- again -- this time you'll know why.
Just to add to my worry and weariness, on BuzzFlash, Maureen Farrell reminds me of those kinder, gentler days in her piece on The Way We Were
War
"The United States, as the world knows, will never start a war." – John F. Kennedy, June, 1963
"F*ck Saddam, we're taking him out!" -- George Bush, 2002
Sigh.
Speaking of knitting, Allan Moult, over there on the other side of the planet from me, is publishing an attractively designed online magazine, Leatherwood Online, that recently had a really neat article about
a powerful art installation .... enabling everyone and anyone in the community to actively participate in the creation of a statement reflecting their love, care and willingness to protect the beauty of the Styx forest from further old growth logging. People throughout the community could knit red wool into pieces as short or as long as they personally had time and ability to produce, to be sewn together into 'hugs' that would be wrapped around the bases of trees.
I love the photos of guys knitting these bright red "hugs," -- punk guys, guys in suits, guys tending bar. What a multi-layered message about what's really important!
Jim Kulleny at NoUtopia is always posting important messages that add significantly to my worry about what's happening to my country. I happen to really like his piece on The Incorporeal George Bush, that. along with a great cartoon depicting George Bush's Vietnam war "decorations," ends with
For some, though, class discrimination is a way of life and as natural as falling into the presidency. This is what should matter to a nation stuck with the silver-spooned George W. The particulars of his story are important only as they reveal that while the probable Democratic nominee chose to lay his life on the line, George was busy forming an essential and enduring part of his character: enjoying the perks of influence while testing the meaning and value of connections and learning to smirk about it.
Meanwhile, I've been in and out of the orkut.com poetry community, feeling like the "matriarch" that one of the poets (as a compliment) said I am. Well, I certainly have been writing and publishing poetry longer than most of the other poets in that community have been alive. As a matter of fact, I just took a big risk and applied to the New York State Writers Institute for acceptance into their upcoming workshop led by poet Eammon Grennan. They only accept "experienced" and "published" poets. While I fit into those categories, it still remains to be seen if the poems I submitted are good enough.
Actually, I did get accepted into and particpated in a Writers Institute workshop with John Montague, back in 1996. Suggestions he made for one of my poems helped me to get it published in The Berkshire Review.
I have no idea what my chances are of getting into the upcoming workshop, but, hell, it was worth a try.
I've been a little frustrated about not being able to post photos on this site. My friend Joan, the quilter, finished the piece she was making for me/about me. When b!X gets his DSL account straightened out, which he says might be as early as this Tuesday, I'll have to get back on my regular weblog and post a photo. I've got it hanging in the middle of what has become my "wall of power." Joan says that this piece is a reflection of her perception of my "inner" self. She's making another one for me that's more funky; she says that it includes an image of Betty Boop (a favorite character of mine) and one of my poems as well. Now, that's a real friend -- especially since, if she were going to actually sell the one that's hanging on my wall, she said she'd have to charge $300.
It's nigh onto midnight. Tomorrow I will find out if the people who need someone to edit their 400-page (about 8-times longer than it should be, as far as I'm concerned) proposal for a Charter School are willing to pay me enough to make it worth my while to get it done by their deadline, which is next Thursday. So, if I'm absent from here -- again -- this time you'll know why.
Just to add to my worry and weariness, on BuzzFlash, Maureen Farrell reminds me of those kinder, gentler days in her piece on The Way We Were
War
"The United States, as the world knows, will never start a war." – John F. Kennedy, June, 1963
"F*ck Saddam, we're taking him out!" -- George Bush, 2002
Sigh.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Families in Jeopardy
According to The Washington Post, President Bush will endorse the anti-gay Federal Marriage Amendment. In doing so, he parts ways with a majority of Americans who do not believe we should write discrimination into the US Constitution. Amending the Constitution to discriminate against same-sex couples and our families is shameful - and we need to make sure that our elected officials know it. . You can go here to sign a petiton to support the right of every American to marry the individual of his/her choice.
Even though I am heterosexual, I have always had gay friends. I become friends with people who share my creative interests. I have danced with both gay men and gay women. I'll dance with anyone who's a good leader.
Having been educated in Catholic schools until I went away to college, I never even knew what homosexuality was until during my sophomore hear in college, when a female classmate decided she had a crush on me. I didn't know that at the time; I just figured she wanted to be friends, and so I was friendly to her. It wasn't until she invited me up to her room, and I went, and she asked me to sit on her bed, and she tried to kiss me that my perspective on the sexualities of the human species began to broaden. I remember stuttering out some lame excuse and stumbling out of her room. It took me a while to process what had happened; I didn't want to hurt her feelings, and I didn't have any idea how to handle the situation. So I tried to avoid her. But she was always there. I even found her sleeping in my car. I finally gathered up the courage to tell her that I wasn't interested in her. It was all so awkward, so painful for both of us. No one was really out of the closet then; no one really wanted to talk about what it's like to be gay.
How different it all is now. Last month, when I ran into one of my gay friends/former colleagues and her partner at a movement workshop, we all hugged and asked about our kids and what we were up to and how our kids were doing. (My friend had a daughter through artificial insemination, and she and her partner are raising the girl together; they are a loving and committed family in most most nurturing sense of the word.)
It seems to me that, if there is such a thing as a human soul/spirit, it is gender-neutral. Marriage is the joining of spirits, the connecting of souls. What matters is how you join your lives, not how you join your bodies.
This world is full of so much violence and hatred and abuse and fear. We should support and celebrate any human union that is founded on caring and love and respect.
Even though I am heterosexual, I have always had gay friends. I become friends with people who share my creative interests. I have danced with both gay men and gay women. I'll dance with anyone who's a good leader.
Having been educated in Catholic schools until I went away to college, I never even knew what homosexuality was until during my sophomore hear in college, when a female classmate decided she had a crush on me. I didn't know that at the time; I just figured she wanted to be friends, and so I was friendly to her. It wasn't until she invited me up to her room, and I went, and she asked me to sit on her bed, and she tried to kiss me that my perspective on the sexualities of the human species began to broaden. I remember stuttering out some lame excuse and stumbling out of her room. It took me a while to process what had happened; I didn't want to hurt her feelings, and I didn't have any idea how to handle the situation. So I tried to avoid her. But she was always there. I even found her sleeping in my car. I finally gathered up the courage to tell her that I wasn't interested in her. It was all so awkward, so painful for both of us. No one was really out of the closet then; no one really wanted to talk about what it's like to be gay.
How different it all is now. Last month, when I ran into one of my gay friends/former colleagues and her partner at a movement workshop, we all hugged and asked about our kids and what we were up to and how our kids were doing. (My friend had a daughter through artificial insemination, and she and her partner are raising the girl together; they are a loving and committed family in most most nurturing sense of the word.)
It seems to me that, if there is such a thing as a human soul/spirit, it is gender-neutral. Marriage is the joining of spirits, the connecting of souls. What matters is how you join your lives, not how you join your bodies.
This world is full of so much violence and hatred and abuse and fear. We should support and celebrate any human union that is founded on caring and love and respect.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
So, how does this look?
I needed to change this template so that I could have a sidebar that would take links. And I figured out how to add a Comment feature. I was hoping that b!X would have his server hooked up to his DSL by now, but I'm beginning to think it's never going to happen.
So, how readable is this new format? Hello?? Hello??? Anybody out there who knows where I'm living these days?
So, how readable is this new format? Hello?? Hello??? Anybody out there who knows where I'm living these days?
Monday, February 09, 2004
Gun Shots in theSpring Air
It's almost 40 degrees here today. And about 15 miles from where I live, at Columbia High School (where I taught back in the 70s), a teacher is shot today. Apparently Michael Bennett, a Special Edcuation teacher, is OK and no students were injured. The local news speculates that it was a student who did the shooting; officially, he's described as an "intruder."
When I was barely in my mid-twenties with no real teaching experience under my belt, that school hired me to spend each afternoon facilitating a "supervised study" double period with potential drop-outs. Talk about trial by fire! After the first few weeks of surviving their testing me (like one of the boys walking in holding a boot and announcing to me that he found a rubber and what should he do with it), we all managed to find a common ground. We spent most of the rest of the year sitting around and talking about whatever interested them at the moment. For a while it was the pregnancy of one of the girls.
They were problem kids, angry at lots of people and things. But they didn't bring guns to school and shoot teachers. What's happening to our children!
When I was barely in my mid-twenties with no real teaching experience under my belt, that school hired me to spend each afternoon facilitating a "supervised study" double period with potential drop-outs. Talk about trial by fire! After the first few weeks of surviving their testing me (like one of the boys walking in holding a boot and announcing to me that he found a rubber and what should he do with it), we all managed to find a common ground. We spent most of the rest of the year sitting around and talking about whatever interested them at the moment. For a while it was the pregnancy of one of the girls.
They were problem kids, angry at lots of people and things. But they didn't bring guns to school and shoot teachers. What's happening to our children!
WWJD with Rapturous Right Wing-Righteousness?
Maybe it all boils down to whether you're a fan of the god of the Old Testament or New Testament. Me, I'm a fan of neither (although the New one is more to my liking), but I don't really count in this world of right-wing righteousness anyway.
On 60 Minutes last night, the self-righteous Ratpure-Awaiters explained how they will be going to "heaven" and the rest of the world's population will not. They base their rapturous opinions on their interpretations of what goes down in the bible's apocalyptic Book of Revelations -- which, according to scholar Eugene Gallagher (the Rosemary Park Professor of Religious Studies at Connecticut College), essentially offers an arsenal of apocalyptic images and predictions that can be used to target any specific time as the apocalyptic moment.
"With [George Bush in] the White House, Tom DeLay...in the House of Representatives...these are parts of the righteous army that has finally come into its own" stated the righteous Rev. Peter Gomes, a Baptist theologian at Harvard University, in the Morey Safer CBS interview.
If that doesn't scare you, I guess you're one of them.
Meanwhile, over in Iowa,
An ordained Mennonite minister and her husband were among five co-defendants in a four-day civil disobedience trial in Des Moines (Feb. 3-6.) The five sought to hold the Iowa National Air Guard accountable to international law over their bombing patrols in Iraq. "This was a small action we were led to take as another opportunity to witness to Jesus’ way of peace," reflected Pastor Jennifer Davis Sensenig of Cedar Falls Mennonite Church. "We felt called to protect the spiritual and physical welfare of our soldiers as well as the people of Iraq, and work for a more secure world for everyone’s children. Our mutual security is gravely threatened by the irresponsible and illegal foreign policy the US is currently pursuing in the Mideast."
Now, really, what do you think that peace-loving, compasionate Jesus Would Do? Rapture away the right-wing righteous or stand with those whose faith is based in peace and compassion? Check out Frank Paynter's piece here for more on the current persecution of peace activists.
Oh yes, this might well be an apocalyptic time. But guess where the evil is that's making this happen. I think I asked this before, but why hasn't anyone made a big deal of Bush being the real "AntiChrist" of this century?
The way I've always understood the AntiChrist is that he/she would be a kind of "wolf in sheep's clothing," someone who, on the surface, seems to be truly righteous and leading true believers to their salvation, but really is manipulating everyone for his own evil-doing-motivated ends -- ends that involve personal, economic, and environmental mayhem and murder and means that cause rifts between peoples and philosophies. Sound familiar?
On 60 Minutes last night, the self-righteous Ratpure-Awaiters explained how they will be going to "heaven" and the rest of the world's population will not. They base their rapturous opinions on their interpretations of what goes down in the bible's apocalyptic Book of Revelations -- which, according to scholar Eugene Gallagher (the Rosemary Park Professor of Religious Studies at Connecticut College), essentially offers an arsenal of apocalyptic images and predictions that can be used to target any specific time as the apocalyptic moment.
"With [George Bush in] the White House, Tom DeLay...in the House of Representatives...these are parts of the righteous army that has finally come into its own" stated the righteous Rev. Peter Gomes, a Baptist theologian at Harvard University, in the Morey Safer CBS interview.
If that doesn't scare you, I guess you're one of them.
Meanwhile, over in Iowa,
An ordained Mennonite minister and her husband were among five co-defendants in a four-day civil disobedience trial in Des Moines (Feb. 3-6.) The five sought to hold the Iowa National Air Guard accountable to international law over their bombing patrols in Iraq. "This was a small action we were led to take as another opportunity to witness to Jesus’ way of peace," reflected Pastor Jennifer Davis Sensenig of Cedar Falls Mennonite Church. "We felt called to protect the spiritual and physical welfare of our soldiers as well as the people of Iraq, and work for a more secure world for everyone’s children. Our mutual security is gravely threatened by the irresponsible and illegal foreign policy the US is currently pursuing in the Mideast."
Now, really, what do you think that peace-loving, compasionate Jesus Would Do? Rapture away the right-wing righteous or stand with those whose faith is based in peace and compassion? Check out Frank Paynter's piece here for more on the current persecution of peace activists.
Oh yes, this might well be an apocalyptic time. But guess where the evil is that's making this happen. I think I asked this before, but why hasn't anyone made a big deal of Bush being the real "AntiChrist" of this century?
The way I've always understood the AntiChrist is that he/she would be a kind of "wolf in sheep's clothing," someone who, on the surface, seems to be truly righteous and leading true believers to their salvation, but really is manipulating everyone for his own evil-doing-motivated ends -- ends that involve personal, economic, and environmental mayhem and murder and means that cause rifts between peoples and philosophies. Sound familiar?
Dealing Dean Dirty
Dean Returns To Wisconsin After Disappointing Weekend
So goes at least one headline reporting on the last round of Democratic caucuses.
So let's see. Kucinich gets a positive nod for finishing third, even though he has fewer delegates than Al Sharton. But Dean -- who twice in three days finished in second place (Washignton and Maine) in better showings than he was making before, and continues to have the 2nd highest number of delegates, gets only "disappointing" and "downward spiral" and the like. But Edwards, who is third in the delegate race, is still considered to be in the running.
Just another frustrating example of how the mass media continues to purposefully skew and screw.
Feh!
So goes at least one headline reporting on the last round of Democratic caucuses.
So let's see. Kucinich gets a positive nod for finishing third, even though he has fewer delegates than Al Sharton. But Dean -- who twice in three days finished in second place (Washignton and Maine) in better showings than he was making before, and continues to have the 2nd highest number of delegates, gets only "disappointing" and "downward spiral" and the like. But Edwards, who is third in the delegate race, is still considered to be in the running.
Just another frustrating example of how the mass media continues to purposefully skew and screw.
Feh!
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
A Kalilily Retrospective
As I poke around this old homestead, I'm uncovering some pieces that I like that I wrote once upon a kalilily time. So here are a few to link to if you have nothing better to do.
Like this early one about the blog as the village water pump.
And this on a little history.
This about Sybil and Cybill.
This on faith and fairies and the Sisters of the Blog.
This on Crone magic.
This on planting grave-sized gardens.
This on living and dying and blogging.
This ondancing with my shadow.
Or this on the digital divide.
Or this on a poet I know.
Or this on having no political power.
On blogging as journalism.
On being an elitist.
On becoming a feminist.
On Sci Fi and me
On Jezebel as feminist.
On gods and daemons.
On my un-scholarly, heterosexual, female chauvinist opinion about Camille Paglia.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, it turns out that my mom has to have by-pass surgery on her leg before she can have corrective surgery on her foot. The by-pass is not advisable, so the corrective is impossible. Now we have to come up with a Plan B.
And, if anyone reading this knows what Blogger time zone I'm in on the East Coast, I'd love to know so that I can set my post time correctly. I can't figure out where I fit in all the choices that they give. Nothing says plain old Eastern Daylight Savings Time.
Like this early one about the blog as the village water pump.
And this on a little history.
This about Sybil and Cybill.
This on faith and fairies and the Sisters of the Blog.
This on Crone magic.
This on planting grave-sized gardens.
This on living and dying and blogging.
This ondancing with my shadow.
Or this on the digital divide.
Or this on a poet I know.
Or this on having no political power.
On blogging as journalism.
On being an elitist.
On becoming a feminist.
On Sci Fi and me
On Jezebel as feminist.
On gods and daemons.
On my un-scholarly, heterosexual, female chauvinist opinion about Camille Paglia.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, it turns out that my mom has to have by-pass surgery on her leg before she can have corrective surgery on her foot. The by-pass is not advisable, so the corrective is impossible. Now we have to come up with a Plan B.
And, if anyone reading this knows what Blogger time zone I'm in on the East Coast, I'd love to know so that I can set my post time correctly. I can't figure out where I fit in all the choices that they give. Nothing says plain old Eastern Daylight Savings Time.
Everything Leaks
I read that yesterday somewhere over at Jeneane's but now I can't find the place where she posted it and she got it from someone else anyway.
At the moment, my home blog at kalilily.net has leaked somewhere into the virtual space over Portland, Oregon, where my son b!X has his server and where kalilily.net resides. He's on his back-up blog as well.
So, consider this my vacation home-away-from-home. It's pretty rustic here -- no comments. At least not at the moment. I have to find the time to go and read through the full-topic index here at Blogger and figure out how to do some of the things I take for granted over at the MT site.
And now, I'm off to take my mother to the vascular surgeon to find out the results of the MRI she had last week to determine why she has 50% circulation in one leg (which, it seems, is why a sore is not healing). And so it goes.
At the moment, my home blog at kalilily.net has leaked somewhere into the virtual space over Portland, Oregon, where my son b!X has his server and where kalilily.net resides. He's on his back-up blog as well.
So, consider this my vacation home-away-from-home. It's pretty rustic here -- no comments. At least not at the moment. I have to find the time to go and read through the full-topic index here at Blogger and figure out how to do some of the things I take for granted over at the MT site.
And now, I'm off to take my mother to the vascular surgeon to find out the results of the MRI she had last week to determine why she has 50% circulation in one leg (which, it seems, is why a sore is not healing). And so it goes.
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
The Crone Has Flown
Goodbye Blogger. Goodbye Ev. Goodbye old template. Goodbye old posts. Goodbye old archves. Goodbye old comments. Goodbye old URL.
The Crone has flown to Movable Type and her own domain on the coat tails of theonetruebix and his Spartaneity Project.
So, link to me now at www.kalilily.net
Or else....
Consensual Amnesia (Why Dissent Matters)
I have a hard time keeping up with the pithy (no, I'm not lisping) stuff that b!X is tossing into his blog these days. But his intensity makes in unnecessary for me to blog about the depressing and oppressing tenor of the times. All I have to do is link you back to him. So that's what I'm doing to clue you in about the illegality of the pledge of allegiance, here and here; the citizen rebellion in Northampton, Massachusetts; and the environmental tragedy of progress.
And while he's running virtually around to gather all of that crictical citizen information, he's also been working on revving up spartaneity.com, with my new blog as the current project. So, watch for the Crone's Grand Re-opening in MT, coming soon to a screen near you.
And, by the way, forget Aunt Sally, Rage Boy. The Crone is three for three.)
I have a hard time keeping up with the pithy (no, I'm not lisping) stuff that b!X is tossing into his blog these days. But his intensity makes in unnecessary for me to blog about the depressing and oppressing tenor of the times. All I have to do is link you back to him. So that's what I'm doing to clue you in about the illegality of the pledge of allegiance, here and here; the citizen rebellion in Northampton, Massachusetts; and the environmental tragedy of progress.
And while he's running virtually around to gather all of that crictical citizen information, he's also been working on revving up spartaneity.com, with my new blog as the current project. So, watch for the Crone's Grand Re-opening in MT, coming soon to a screen near you.
And, by the way, forget Aunt Sally, Rage Boy. The Crone is three for three.)
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
Conspicuous by its absence...
...is mention -- in the blogs that I read -- about Dave Winer's bi-pass heart surgery that was the painful result of his cigarette smoking. I know that many of my blogger friends smoke. I'm sure that they don't want to think about what happened to Dave. Obviously, they don't want to blog about it. (I think that's called "denial.") Except I noticed that b!X, also a smoker, is forcing himself to take a hard look at the issue.
So, if you smoke and are reading this, please take your own hard look at what Dave has to say, including this:
OK, here's the deal. I did not have a heart attack, but it was close. I had bypass surgery, which I am now recovering from. It was my fault -- I had classic warning signs that I ignored. No family history of heart disease. Most important -- I wanted to keep smoking. The numbers are good if I quit smoking. If I don't the numbers are totally awful.
Blogging about what you went through is doing a real service for your fellow bloggers, Dave. I know that they probably don't want to hear it. All the more reason for you to blog it.
How fragile our real lives really are.
I feel fortunate that I never got into smoking -- just some early adolescent puffs out the bathroom window and some late adolescent drags while playing college sophisticate. I had very bad asthma as a kid; I knew getting hooked on nicotine would probably mean giving up non-stop lindy-hopping. And I'd always rather be dancing -- although these days Salsa is my preference.
...is mention -- in the blogs that I read -- about Dave Winer's bi-pass heart surgery that was the painful result of his cigarette smoking. I know that many of my blogger friends smoke. I'm sure that they don't want to think about what happened to Dave. Obviously, they don't want to blog about it. (I think that's called "denial.") Except I noticed that b!X, also a smoker, is forcing himself to take a hard look at the issue.
So, if you smoke and are reading this, please take your own hard look at what Dave has to say, including this:
OK, here's the deal. I did not have a heart attack, but it was close. I had bypass surgery, which I am now recovering from. It was my fault -- I had classic warning signs that I ignored. No family history of heart disease. Most important -- I wanted to keep smoking. The numbers are good if I quit smoking. If I don't the numbers are totally awful.
Blogging about what you went through is doing a real service for your fellow bloggers, Dave. I know that they probably don't want to hear it. All the more reason for you to blog it.
How fragile our real lives really are.
I feel fortunate that I never got into smoking -- just some early adolescent puffs out the bathroom window and some late adolescent drags while playing college sophisticate. I had very bad asthma as a kid; I knew getting hooked on nicotine would probably mean giving up non-stop lindy-hopping. And I'd always rather be dancing -- although these days Salsa is my preference.
Meet the Geek Icon
She's young, she's smart, she thinks, she writes, she sees, she cares, she believes. She's the subject of Frank Paynter's latest interview. Andrea Roceal James, my Apprentice Crone. Check her out, in words and pics. The world needs more like her.
She's young, she's smart, she thinks, she writes, she sees, she cares, she believes. She's the subject of Frank Paynter's latest interview. Andrea Roceal James, my Apprentice Crone. Check her out, in words and pics. The world needs more like her.
Monday, June 24, 2002
The Crone Chants a Full Moon Om.
The full moon commands the deep night sky. I take my ritual outside, stand with arms outstretched to the bright promise of the moon. I wear the shirt on which I painted the magic mandala. I chant. Aum. Aum. Aum -- the sacred sound of OM. I watch the thin strands of clouds move into the form of the syllable. There is no wind. There is no sound other than the hum of the universe.
Sons are borne. Sons are born. Sons are borne. This full moon is for my son, too far away to see the sky as I see it. Across the continent, tonight I send magic through the ether. Tomorrow, I send magic through the mail. The Crone chants Om. Om. Om. See the mandala moon. Chant Om. Intend. Become.
The full moon commands the deep night sky. I take my ritual outside, stand with arms outstretched to the bright promise of the moon. I wear the shirt on which I painted the magic mandala. I chant. Aum. Aum. Aum -- the sacred sound of OM. I watch the thin strands of clouds move into the form of the syllable. There is no wind. There is no sound other than the hum of the universe.
Sons are borne. Sons are born. Sons are borne. This full moon is for my son, too far away to see the sky as I see it. Across the continent, tonight I send magic through the ether. Tomorrow, I send magic through the mail. The Crone chants Om. Om. Om. See the mandala moon. Chant Om. Intend. Become.
Blogdom as the Village Water Pump
From an print newspaper article by Jay Bookman, who writes for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:
In his 1964-classic "Understanding Media," Marshall McLuhan related the story of several post war villages in India where UNESCO, the United National relief agency, had installed pipes to deliver running water to each home. After a few months, village elders went to UNESCO officials and asked that the pipes be ripped out.
The villagers had realized that nobody congregated any longer at the village well, where they used to wait in line to fill their water jugs. The well had been the communal center of village life, the place where gossip was exchanged and village values reinforced. It was the place where the village met to create a sense of identity.
I suppose that when "The Well" was created, the idea was to bring that village well into cyberspace. What has really accomplished that miracle, however, is blogging. We meet here to exchange gossip, reinforce "geek" values, argue politics, and share opinions on everything from gender issues to software preferences. And, just like at the old village water pump, we each establish our very specific voice, recognizable after a while by all of the others who gather with us. Then instead of a couple of us going back to my hut to balance some herbal refreshment on our laps while we hash over more personal trials and tribulations, we e-mail or instant message, with our cups of coffee or tea balanced (just as precariously) on our CPUs.
Just as the village values were reinforced at the village water pump, the values of a non-discriminatory, free-speaking global village are constantly being reinforced at the flowing pump of our collective blogs. We are becoming a village with our own identity.
From an print newspaper article by Jay Bookman, who writes for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:
In his 1964-classic "Understanding Media," Marshall McLuhan related the story of several post war villages in India where UNESCO, the United National relief agency, had installed pipes to deliver running water to each home. After a few months, village elders went to UNESCO officials and asked that the pipes be ripped out.
The villagers had realized that nobody congregated any longer at the village well, where they used to wait in line to fill their water jugs. The well had been the communal center of village life, the place where gossip was exchanged and village values reinforced. It was the place where the village met to create a sense of identity.
I suppose that when "The Well" was created, the idea was to bring that village well into cyberspace. What has really accomplished that miracle, however, is blogging. We meet here to exchange gossip, reinforce "geek" values, argue politics, and share opinions on everything from gender issues to software preferences. And, just like at the old village water pump, we each establish our very specific voice, recognizable after a while by all of the others who gather with us. Then instead of a couple of us going back to my hut to balance some herbal refreshment on our laps while we hash over more personal trials and tribulations, we e-mail or instant message, with our cups of coffee or tea balanced (just as precariously) on our CPUs.
Just as the village values were reinforced at the village water pump, the values of a non-discriminatory, free-speaking global village are constantly being reinforced at the flowing pump of our collective blogs. We are becoming a village with our own identity.
Saturday, June 22, 2002
Being a Woman is Often No Treat
This post and this one on Blog Sisters have drawn attention to the fact that religious fundamentalists around the world are joining forces to halt the efforts of women around the world to ensure their rights as autonomous human beings.
Back in 1975, the First world Conference on Women in Mexico City called for a Treaty for the Rights of Women. I still have in my jewelry box the pin that I bought to assert my support of that still U.S.-unratified Treaty and of the (finally) official acknowledgement by the United Nations of International Women's Day (which was first established in 1911). The bird-in-flight design of that pin is the logo for the current web site of the Treaty for the Rights of Women.
I am asking that all who read my weblog take action and overwhelm our government "leaders" with statements of support for this Treaty. Why? Because (as the Treaty site indicates) even though the lives of women in some countries have improved, there is still much that needs to be done on these issues:
-- Female genital mutilation: 130 million women are victims worldwide;
-- Maternal mortality: 510,000 women die each year from pregnancy-related complications;
-- Obstetric fistulas: some 2 million girls suffer uncontrollable leakage of urine and feces through vaginas damaged in obstructed labor, most because of forced early marriage;
-- Sex trafficking: 2 million girls are sold into sexual slavery each year;
-- HIV/AIDS: women are four times more vulnerable than men, and 1.3 million die each year;
-- Violence: an estimated 25 to 30 percent of all women experience domestic violence;
-- Discrimination: millions of women lack full legal and political rights.
Today, the headline of an Associated Press article by David Crary announces Bitter Divisions Resurface Over Global Women's Rights Treaty That U.S. Has Never Ratified. There is great pressure being exerted by Americas religious fundamentalists to join with kindred soul-less males throughout the world to to destroy the spirits of women by defeating the Treaty for Women's Rights.
This post and this one on Blog Sisters have drawn attention to the fact that religious fundamentalists around the world are joining forces to halt the efforts of women around the world to ensure their rights as autonomous human beings.
Back in 1975, the First world Conference on Women in Mexico City called for a Treaty for the Rights of Women. I still have in my jewelry box the pin that I bought to assert my support of that still U.S.-unratified Treaty and of the (finally) official acknowledgement by the United Nations of International Women's Day (which was first established in 1911). The bird-in-flight design of that pin is the logo for the current web site of the Treaty for the Rights of Women.
I am asking that all who read my weblog take action and overwhelm our government "leaders" with statements of support for this Treaty. Why? Because (as the Treaty site indicates) even though the lives of women in some countries have improved, there is still much that needs to be done on these issues:
-- Female genital mutilation: 130 million women are victims worldwide;
-- Maternal mortality: 510,000 women die each year from pregnancy-related complications;
-- Obstetric fistulas: some 2 million girls suffer uncontrollable leakage of urine and feces through vaginas damaged in obstructed labor, most because of forced early marriage;
-- Sex trafficking: 2 million girls are sold into sexual slavery each year;
-- HIV/AIDS: women are four times more vulnerable than men, and 1.3 million die each year;
-- Violence: an estimated 25 to 30 percent of all women experience domestic violence;
-- Discrimination: millions of women lack full legal and political rights.
Today, the headline of an Associated Press article by David Crary announces Bitter Divisions Resurface Over Global Women's Rights Treaty That U.S. Has Never Ratified. There is great pressure being exerted by Americas religious fundamentalists to join with kindred soul-less males throughout the world to to destroy the spirits of women by defeating the Treaty for Women's Rights.
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