I, Faithless
Jonathan Delacour and Mike Golby continue their examination of spiritual beliefs. I have come to a place similar to Jonathan's, largely by the same Catholic route, through Jung, but then onto other kinds of books -- Merlin Stone, Jean Shinoda Bolen, Robert Graves, Elaine Pagels, Annie Dillard....
What research and writing ultimately shows, it seems to me, is that we humans continue to create and re-create our gods in our own images. And then, when we allow our worst human nationalistic tendencies to motivate us to commit crimes against those not of our politics or faith, we can say -- not "the devil made me do it" but "it is the will of god." In his almighty name, we kill for land, for economic, political, and cultural control; we kill because we believe that we are right and "they" are wrong, because the god they created doesn't exist but the one we created does. Many individual members of organized religions live as good, moral, and compassionate people -- but not necessarily because of what their religious institutions are and have been, but rather in spite of them. Whether consciously or not, they live by the universal golden rule of "do unto others...." And in doing so, to me they prove the basic irrelevance of organized religion. (Except, of course, these institutions do provide employment for scholars, writers, monks, and clerics of all persuasions. And they give people a sense of belonging. I can get that from blogging.)
I place my faith in the wisdom of poetry. I breathe what I am: the first and last of all things. (Theodore Roethke)
There is no messiah but us.
Sunday, March 24, 2002
Whatever World This Is, I Want to Be a Part of It
Spurred by David Weinberger's new book, Small Pieces Loosely Joined , there is all of this dense discussion still going on among webloggers about the nature of the "web." In her post on "Figments of Reality," Daniela of livingcode discusses these discussions. Her words reflects why I am so engaged in weblogging and its potential for human/e development. She says:
It is a temple that transcends space and territory. It is spaceless in the sense that not one person can claim this space as in the real world. But it is also a place that a lot of people want to partake of, and do so very well. It is extelligence. Is it for the lack of such physical spaces that we seek a virtual one? Or is it because we feel comfortable on neutral teritory, where the possibility of a superculture transpires more readily?
Extelligence. Superculture.
Does that make Blogtank the Extelligence Superforce?
Spurred by David Weinberger's new book, Small Pieces Loosely Joined , there is all of this dense discussion still going on among webloggers about the nature of the "web." In her post on "Figments of Reality," Daniela of livingcode discusses these discussions. Her words reflects why I am so engaged in weblogging and its potential for human/e development. She says:
It is a temple that transcends space and territory. It is spaceless in the sense that not one person can claim this space as in the real world. But it is also a place that a lot of people want to partake of, and do so very well. It is extelligence. Is it for the lack of such physical spaces that we seek a virtual one? Or is it because we feel comfortable on neutral teritory, where the possibility of a superculture transpires more readily?
Extelligence. Superculture.
Does that make Blogtank the Extelligence Superforce?
Sunday Morning Coming Down
Unnhh. Too much sugar on that bus trip yestersay. Chocolate chip cookies on the bus; Pepsis at the Flower Show; chocolate mint fudge and m&m covered pretzels after lunch and on the way back. I look at Marek's post, including instructions for signing up at the new Blogtank and I want to go back to bed. (What am I doing here? I know what I'm doing here. This is not my world. This is my world. Marek's mania is contagious.) Boy, he must really crash after one of those manic caffeine-high pseudoterraforming binges. He could have flown all the way to Poland on his own last night.
Unnnhh. I think I bruised a rib the other day when a door I was pulling open rebounded and smacked me on my left side, head included. (I had stashed something behind the door and didn't realize it was sticking out that far. See, older isn't really wiser, is it?)
Unnhh. Too much sugar on that bus trip yestersay. Chocolate chip cookies on the bus; Pepsis at the Flower Show; chocolate mint fudge and m&m covered pretzels after lunch and on the way back. I look at Marek's post, including instructions for signing up at the new Blogtank and I want to go back to bed. (What am I doing here? I know what I'm doing here. This is not my world. This is my world. Marek's mania is contagious.) Boy, he must really crash after one of those manic caffeine-high pseudoterraforming binges. He could have flown all the way to Poland on his own last night.
Unnnhh. I think I bruised a rib the other day when a door I was pulling open rebounded and smacked me on my left side, head included. (I had stashed something behind the door and didn't realize it was sticking out that far. See, older isn't really wiser, is it?)
Halley and I Missed Our Big Chance
Halley Suit and her family were in downtown Boston today. Just think! We might have had a chance to meet if we only had known.
Halley Suit and her family were in downtown Boston today. Just think! We might have had a chance to meet if we only had known.
October Sky in March
On the way back on the bus tonight from a long day at the big Boston Flower Show, we watched the movie October Sky, about the kids who were inspired to figure out how to build their own rockets after watching Sputnik sail across the sky in October of 1957. I had seen the movie before, so I allowed myself to doze on and off while I listened to the sound track of my life at 17 as a freshman in college -- sorority rushing, falling for a fraternity guy, getting pinned, going to formal dances, learning how to drink lots of huge 10 cent glasses of beer without getting drunk, cutting classes on Friday afternoons to start the weekend's dancing, getting unpinned, and barely making the 2.5 grade point average that allowed me to go back the next year.
Like a lot of people, I review my life in the context of the songs that were popular in each of my life’s eras. Last week, I heard on the radio a bunch of Simon and Garfunkel songs, and they took me back to when my marriage was breaking up – Sounds of Silence, The Dangling Conversation, Bookends, Patterns, Cloudy. Every time I hear those songs I’m back being 33 again and watching my life fall apart around me and my two kids. When I hear For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her I have a good cry for the romantic girl I once was who thought love would be all I needed, that love would be enough. And every time I hear early Carly Simon, or disco's Donna Summer, I am back re-inventing myself into several different people at the same time so that I can explore so many of the things in life that I missed as a young and totally clueless wife.
And every time I start to wonder if the choices I made were the right ones and to fret about what the future might hold, I play my all-time favorite song as sung by Mary Travers. It reminds me that when one door closes, another door opens. We just have to keep going.
All my life's a circle/ Sunrise and sundown/ Moon rolls thru the nighttime/ Till the daybreak comes around./ All my life's a circle/ But I can't tell you why/ Season's spinning round again/ The years keep rollin' by./ It seems like I've been here before/ I can't remember when/ But I have this funny feeling/ That I’ll be back once again./ No straight lines make up my life/ And all my roads have bends/ There's no clear-cut beginnings/ And so far no dead-ends.
On the way back on the bus tonight from a long day at the big Boston Flower Show, we watched the movie October Sky, about the kids who were inspired to figure out how to build their own rockets after watching Sputnik sail across the sky in October of 1957. I had seen the movie before, so I allowed myself to doze on and off while I listened to the sound track of my life at 17 as a freshman in college -- sorority rushing, falling for a fraternity guy, getting pinned, going to formal dances, learning how to drink lots of huge 10 cent glasses of beer without getting drunk, cutting classes on Friday afternoons to start the weekend's dancing, getting unpinned, and barely making the 2.5 grade point average that allowed me to go back the next year.
Like a lot of people, I review my life in the context of the songs that were popular in each of my life’s eras. Last week, I heard on the radio a bunch of Simon and Garfunkel songs, and they took me back to when my marriage was breaking up – Sounds of Silence, The Dangling Conversation, Bookends, Patterns, Cloudy. Every time I hear those songs I’m back being 33 again and watching my life fall apart around me and my two kids. When I hear For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her I have a good cry for the romantic girl I once was who thought love would be all I needed, that love would be enough. And every time I hear early Carly Simon, or disco's Donna Summer, I am back re-inventing myself into several different people at the same time so that I can explore so many of the things in life that I missed as a young and totally clueless wife.
And every time I start to wonder if the choices I made were the right ones and to fret about what the future might hold, I play my all-time favorite song as sung by Mary Travers. It reminds me that when one door closes, another door opens. We just have to keep going.
All my life's a circle/ Sunrise and sundown/ Moon rolls thru the nighttime/ Till the daybreak comes around./ All my life's a circle/ But I can't tell you why/ Season's spinning round again/ The years keep rollin' by./ It seems like I've been here before/ I can't remember when/ But I have this funny feeling/ That I’ll be back once again./ No straight lines make up my life/ And all my roads have bends/ There's no clear-cut beginnings/ And so far no dead-ends.
Friday, March 22, 2002
She's Baaack
My mom is back from my brother's. So that's the end of my marathon two-day writing spree.
My brother took my mother back to where she used to live to visit her older brother, who is living alone with his yappy dachsund and shouldn't be. It's heartbreaking to think of all the older people lost to themselves and the world. Long ago I bought the book Final Exit. Of course I plan to go out either blogging or dancing -- or maybe playing with my (soon-to-be) grandson -- but I figure I'd better be prepared in case karma takes me elsewhere that's not so much fun.
Oh well, tomorrow I am going, for the day, to Boston on a bus with a bunch of other women. I need to laugh, giggle, spend a few hours with some flesh and blood. Then, I have to tackle my taxes AGAIN, since my preparer can't find what I sent her. Bummer.
Blogtank continues to bubble, bubble and soon it will come to a full boil. And then what?
I finally downloaded an FTP program that I think I can use. But I'm waiting for b!X to finish designing my new blog-integrated site. I've seen a draft of the blog part. It is ME!
Spartaneity.com. That's my boy!
My mom is back from my brother's. So that's the end of my marathon two-day writing spree.
My brother took my mother back to where she used to live to visit her older brother, who is living alone with his yappy dachsund and shouldn't be. It's heartbreaking to think of all the older people lost to themselves and the world. Long ago I bought the book Final Exit. Of course I plan to go out either blogging or dancing -- or maybe playing with my (soon-to-be) grandson -- but I figure I'd better be prepared in case karma takes me elsewhere that's not so much fun.
Oh well, tomorrow I am going, for the day, to Boston on a bus with a bunch of other women. I need to laugh, giggle, spend a few hours with some flesh and blood. Then, I have to tackle my taxes AGAIN, since my preparer can't find what I sent her. Bummer.
Blogtank continues to bubble, bubble and soon it will come to a full boil. And then what?
I finally downloaded an FTP program that I think I can use. But I'm waiting for b!X to finish designing my new blog-integrated site. I've seen a draft of the blog part. It is ME!
Spartaneity.com. That's my boy!
The Last Frontier of Romance?
(With a Capital “R”)
[What follows is what I have submitted to the regional dance magazine for which I write a monthly column. I was stuck for a topic until burningbird posted her thing about Romance. Thank you muchly, Shelley, for the inspiration.]
I have two obsessive activities these days: ballroom dancing and blogging. No, not clogging, blogging. It’s a way of communicating over the internet using online diaries (web-logs) that hyperlink to each other. Shelley, one of the young women whose blog I enjoy reading because she’s such a good writer, recently wrote this in her web-log: (I quote from it with her permission.)
Is romance dead? I'm not talking about a trip into Hallmark, resulting in the dispersal of either quick wit or Profound Thought of the Moment. I'm talking about moonlight and roses, dancing until dawn, looking dreamily into each others eyes. Romance. Capital 'R'…. Movies from the 30's and 40's showed ladies in long dresses being waltzed around the room by dapper men in tails…. Then the 50's made romance silly or crude, the 60's made it obsolete, the 70's made it either trashy or angst filled, the 80's put a price tag on it, the 90's made it depressing or trite, and now here we are in a new millenium, and I'm not sure if romance, or I should say Romance, will ever show itself again…… There's this little secret part of me that longs for the beautiful dress and being whirled around the room.
I couldn’t help noticing the point she made emphasizing the capital “R.” I assume because the difference between romance and Romance is that “romance” is what you have with one special person, if you’re lucky, while “Romance” is more fantasy. It can be staged -- the illusion created with music, lights, clothing, and demeanor. Needless to say, I responded by suggesting that she try getting into ballroom dancing. It certainly has all the potential for bringing a little Romance into one’s life.
Women seem to like “Romance” more than men. Most of us like to dress up, look elegant, and feel graceful. Men hate putting on tuxes, but we love how they look in them. It’s like going to our senior prom all over again – or maybe for the first time.
Recently I bought my mother a collection of music called “Voices of Romance.” As I listened to Perry Como sing “And I Love You So” and “It’s Impossible,” it occurred to me that today’s music doesn’t lend itself to the same kind of Romance as those sweet songs of the 30s and 40s. These days, the only places that create any kind of Romantic ambience and play the kind of music that makes you want to do sweeping waltzes and exquisite fox trots are ballroom dances.
I’m with Shelley about longing for the beautiful dress and being whirled around the room. But I don’t make any secret of it. Get out and dance, all you young Romance-hungry Shelleys of the world!
(With a Capital “R”)
[What follows is what I have submitted to the regional dance magazine for which I write a monthly column. I was stuck for a topic until burningbird posted her thing about Romance. Thank you muchly, Shelley, for the inspiration.]
I have two obsessive activities these days: ballroom dancing and blogging. No, not clogging, blogging. It’s a way of communicating over the internet using online diaries (web-logs) that hyperlink to each other. Shelley, one of the young women whose blog I enjoy reading because she’s such a good writer, recently wrote this in her web-log: (I quote from it with her permission.)
Is romance dead? I'm not talking about a trip into Hallmark, resulting in the dispersal of either quick wit or Profound Thought of the Moment. I'm talking about moonlight and roses, dancing until dawn, looking dreamily into each others eyes. Romance. Capital 'R'…. Movies from the 30's and 40's showed ladies in long dresses being waltzed around the room by dapper men in tails…. Then the 50's made romance silly or crude, the 60's made it obsolete, the 70's made it either trashy or angst filled, the 80's put a price tag on it, the 90's made it depressing or trite, and now here we are in a new millenium, and I'm not sure if romance, or I should say Romance, will ever show itself again…… There's this little secret part of me that longs for the beautiful dress and being whirled around the room.
I couldn’t help noticing the point she made emphasizing the capital “R.” I assume because the difference between romance and Romance is that “romance” is what you have with one special person, if you’re lucky, while “Romance” is more fantasy. It can be staged -- the illusion created with music, lights, clothing, and demeanor. Needless to say, I responded by suggesting that she try getting into ballroom dancing. It certainly has all the potential for bringing a little Romance into one’s life.
Women seem to like “Romance” more than men. Most of us like to dress up, look elegant, and feel graceful. Men hate putting on tuxes, but we love how they look in them. It’s like going to our senior prom all over again – or maybe for the first time.
Recently I bought my mother a collection of music called “Voices of Romance.” As I listened to Perry Como sing “And I Love You So” and “It’s Impossible,” it occurred to me that today’s music doesn’t lend itself to the same kind of Romance as those sweet songs of the 30s and 40s. These days, the only places that create any kind of Romantic ambience and play the kind of music that makes you want to do sweeping waltzes and exquisite fox trots are ballroom dances.
I’m with Shelley about longing for the beautiful dress and being whirled around the room. But I don’t make any secret of it. Get out and dance, all you young Romance-hungry Shelleys of the world!
Thursday, March 21, 2002
Of Fishes and Ponds
There are times when I have thought that I’m just really not that ambitious. I retired from a job where my boss was a woman just a couple of years older than I. We worked great together. I like being a lieutenant instead of the captain. (I think that’s an appropriate analogy; I don’t really know how that military hierarchy goes.) I had a great deal of influence, but no real power. And the buck didn’t stop with me. It was a fine trade-off as far as I was concerned, and I stayed for 20 years in a job that I originally had planned to leave after the fifth.
I also have made conscious choices so that I would set myself up as one of the bigger fish in a variety of little ponds. That way I could have some status without really putting myself in competition with the really big fish in the really big ponds. Life is less stressful that way.
Suddenly, I find myself spilled into this breathtaking tank, this vat without walls, this pond-of-all-ponds. I’m this little fish pretending I know how to swim in water more than two feet deep. I want to go back to my safe shallow pool, where I know the rules and I can touch bottom.
Except my little pond is drying up fast. The future is in that vast, still unknowable space in which the Blogtank itself floats, full of fish still finding each other. I’m swimming as fast as I can, but I don't know if it's fast enough.
There are times when I have thought that I’m just really not that ambitious. I retired from a job where my boss was a woman just a couple of years older than I. We worked great together. I like being a lieutenant instead of the captain. (I think that’s an appropriate analogy; I don’t really know how that military hierarchy goes.) I had a great deal of influence, but no real power. And the buck didn’t stop with me. It was a fine trade-off as far as I was concerned, and I stayed for 20 years in a job that I originally had planned to leave after the fifth.
I also have made conscious choices so that I would set myself up as one of the bigger fish in a variety of little ponds. That way I could have some status without really putting myself in competition with the really big fish in the really big ponds. Life is less stressful that way.
Suddenly, I find myself spilled into this breathtaking tank, this vat without walls, this pond-of-all-ponds. I’m this little fish pretending I know how to swim in water more than two feet deep. I want to go back to my safe shallow pool, where I know the rules and I can touch bottom.
Except my little pond is drying up fast. The future is in that vast, still unknowable space in which the Blogtank itself floats, full of fish still finding each other. I’m swimming as fast as I can, but I don't know if it's fast enough.
When I was young/er, I used to say that I wanted to be either famous or infamous. Either one would do. Anita Bora just interviewed me via email for a feature that the online magazine she works for is doing about older people and blogging. Heh. Maybe I should have been careful what I wished for.
Ok, now you'll really think I'm weird.
Every once in a while (starting about three years ago) I go through a series of incidents where the the numbers 11:11 or series of 1s come up -- sometimes it's the change I get when I buy something. Sometimes it's what my purchases cost. Often I just happen to look at a digital clock or my car's odometer when it happens to say 11:11. It hasn't happened in a while, and now it's happening again. Here's the even weirder part. There are web sites out there that say this is happening to other people. Here's one. I'm beginning to think it's some kind of "Devil's Tower" thing like from Close Encouters of the Third Kind. Being a non-believer in things mystical (I just love the mystical for its poetry and drama) I sure would like to figure out what's going on. Now, I know the theory that maybe I have those numbers stuck in my head and I subconsciously grok when those numbers are likely to appear on clocks and odometers, and so I wind up looking at them at those times. But that wasn't the case the first time the series of "encounters" happened. And then I forget about it all until it starts happening again. Now that's weird. That's really weird. I don't like it. I don't like it because I can't explain it in ways that make sense to me. But there it is. I hope that you'll be my friends, anyway.
Every once in a while (starting about three years ago) I go through a series of incidents where the the numbers 11:11 or series of 1s come up -- sometimes it's the change I get when I buy something. Sometimes it's what my purchases cost. Often I just happen to look at a digital clock or my car's odometer when it happens to say 11:11. It hasn't happened in a while, and now it's happening again. Here's the even weirder part. There are web sites out there that say this is happening to other people. Here's one. I'm beginning to think it's some kind of "Devil's Tower" thing like from Close Encouters of the Third Kind. Being a non-believer in things mystical (I just love the mystical for its poetry and drama) I sure would like to figure out what's going on. Now, I know the theory that maybe I have those numbers stuck in my head and I subconsciously grok when those numbers are likely to appear on clocks and odometers, and so I wind up looking at them at those times. But that wasn't the case the first time the series of "encounters" happened. And then I forget about it all until it starts happening again. Now that's weird. That's really weird. I don't like it. I don't like it because I can't explain it in ways that make sense to me. But there it is. I hope that you'll be my friends, anyway.
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
Blogtank: Better Than Sci Fi
It's better than any social science fiction book I've ever read because it's happening right now, joining not-so-small scattered blogpieces into a power-packed change-focused system that has never existed before.
In the words of its founder, Gary Turner: Day zero saw blogtank open up offices in over 10 countries around the globe with fully staffed divisions covering americas, europe, asiapac and africa operating 24 hours around the clock. A panel of 24 expert consultants have now joined our ranks, pooling experience, knowledge, expertise and all manner of almost superhero powers into one zero cost, zero infrastructure organization, hell bent on challenging the supremacy of the likes of accenture and ernst & young to name but two.
Who would have thought that, a year into retirement from 20 years struggling to be creatively productive within the immutable and frustrating contraints of a conservative government agency, I would wind up here in total free-fall freedom with a bunch of zero-fear webventurers. Life. Ya' can't help but love it.
So what am I doing in the middle of this? At the moment, I take my place in the rocking chair, over there by the window, where I can play the little old lady who sits and knits and listens. And then, when everyone else feels overwhelmed by all of the incredibly amazing ideas and concepts and solutions being shared, I stand up, click my knitting needles for attention, and organize the creative cacaphony into clear, precise, and implementable strategies. Then I rip off my cozy shawl to reveal a short, spangley party ensemble, I put on my dancing shoes, and we all go out and party. Bloglife. Ya' gotta love it.
Stay tuned for the further real life adventures of the Blogtankers: Our Force is With You.
It's better than any social science fiction book I've ever read because it's happening right now, joining not-so-small scattered blogpieces into a power-packed change-focused system that has never existed before.
In the words of its founder, Gary Turner: Day zero saw blogtank open up offices in over 10 countries around the globe with fully staffed divisions covering americas, europe, asiapac and africa operating 24 hours around the clock. A panel of 24 expert consultants have now joined our ranks, pooling experience, knowledge, expertise and all manner of almost superhero powers into one zero cost, zero infrastructure organization, hell bent on challenging the supremacy of the likes of accenture and ernst & young to name but two.
Who would have thought that, a year into retirement from 20 years struggling to be creatively productive within the immutable and frustrating contraints of a conservative government agency, I would wind up here in total free-fall freedom with a bunch of zero-fear webventurers. Life. Ya' can't help but love it.
So what am I doing in the middle of this? At the moment, I take my place in the rocking chair, over there by the window, where I can play the little old lady who sits and knits and listens. And then, when everyone else feels overwhelmed by all of the incredibly amazing ideas and concepts and solutions being shared, I stand up, click my knitting needles for attention, and organize the creative cacaphony into clear, precise, and implementable strategies. Then I rip off my cozy shawl to reveal a short, spangley party ensemble, I put on my dancing shoes, and we all go out and party. Bloglife. Ya' gotta love it.
Stay tuned for the further real life adventures of the Blogtankers: Our Force is With You.
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT
"Where else could a global reach consulting team, with offices in more than 10 countries, staffed by 20+ experts in a variety of fields and professions, with round the clock continuous operation come into being in under a day with next to zero infrastructure costs?"
The answer, of course, is BLOGTANK! --creating a new breed of superheroes.
"Where else could a global reach consulting team, with offices in more than 10 countries, staffed by 20+ experts in a variety of fields and professions, with round the clock continuous operation come into being in under a day with next to zero infrastructure costs?"
The answer, of course, is BLOGTANK! --creating a new breed of superheroes.
My First Officious Proclamation
WHEREAS
I recently have been announced as “President of Blogsisters” by Jeneane Sessum, CEO of Blogsisters and Blogger Extraordinaire, and
WHEREAS
I have accepted the highly valued invitation from Gary Turner – revered, sneaky and cunning Blogstickers entrepreneur -- to join the ranks of his brave and notorious Blogtankers, and
WHEREAS
I have laid claim to my own domain, kalilily.net, and as soon as b!X finishes designing my virtual principality, I will assume regal leadership,
THEREFORE
I hereby officiously proclaim myself Elaine of Kalilily, Resident Crone of Blogdom, with all of the rights and responsibilities thereunder.
So Mote It Be.
WHEREAS
I recently have been announced as “President of Blogsisters” by Jeneane Sessum, CEO of Blogsisters and Blogger Extraordinaire, and
WHEREAS
I have accepted the highly valued invitation from Gary Turner – revered, sneaky and cunning Blogstickers entrepreneur -- to join the ranks of his brave and notorious Blogtankers, and
WHEREAS
I have laid claim to my own domain, kalilily.net, and as soon as b!X finishes designing my virtual principality, I will assume regal leadership,
THEREFORE
I hereby officiously proclaim myself Elaine of Kalilily, Resident Crone of Blogdom, with all of the rights and responsibilities thereunder.
So Mote It Be.
Tuesday, March 19, 2002
Buncha stuff
Aaarrgghh. My tax preparer lost all of my tax stuff. Now I have to go and put it all together all over again, and I don't even know if I kept copies of everything. Is someone else's "god" punishing me for Blog Sisters or something?
Mike Golby grooves again. I thank you, Blog Sisters thanks you, and we hope that you'll come over and Comment anytime you want.
Romance. OK. Here's where I really show my age. I bought my mother a Reader's Digest music complation of Voices of Romance and I'm sitting here listening to Perry Como sing "And I Love You So" and "It's Impossible." Now, that's romance. Makes me wish I had a "personal" life.
End of Work In his compelling, disturbing, and ultimately hopeful book, The End of Work (1994), Jeremy Rifkin argues that we are entering a new phase in history-one characterised by the steady and inevitable decline of jobs. I read that book when it first came out. I think it's time for people to start paying attention to his predictions and recommendations.
Another Aaarrrgghh. Can any of you sweet young techies tell me what I have to do (in very specific terms, like codes and where they go in the template) in order to get my narrow right column back to the little wider width it was before?
Aaarrgghh. My tax preparer lost all of my tax stuff. Now I have to go and put it all together all over again, and I don't even know if I kept copies of everything. Is someone else's "god" punishing me for Blog Sisters or something?
Mike Golby grooves again. I thank you, Blog Sisters thanks you, and we hope that you'll come over and Comment anytime you want.
Romance. OK. Here's where I really show my age. I bought my mother a Reader's Digest music complation of Voices of Romance and I'm sitting here listening to Perry Como sing "And I Love You So" and "It's Impossible." Now, that's romance. Makes me wish I had a "personal" life.
End of Work In his compelling, disturbing, and ultimately hopeful book, The End of Work (1994), Jeremy Rifkin argues that we are entering a new phase in history-one characterised by the steady and inevitable decline of jobs. I read that book when it first came out. I think it's time for people to start paying attention to his predictions and recommendations.
Another Aaarrrgghh. Can any of you sweet young techies tell me what I have to do (in very specific terms, like codes and where they go in the template) in order to get my narrow right column back to the little wider width it was before?
Talk About Getting Organized!
Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Check out Blog Sisters' first official press release. No stopping us now.
Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Check out Blog Sisters' first official press release. No stopping us now.
Of course, some boys grow up to be really cool men.
I learned everything I know about the web and blogging from him. And this is what he does? YES!! That's my boy!
And I've been so busy trying to ferment revolution that I haven't been keeping up with my favorite blogs the way I usually do. However, I did get to some of the post from Mike Sanders about our blog identities (true or false or somewhere in between) and blog relationships.
I can tell you that what you see here in my blog is what you get if you meet me in person. This is who I am. Actually, this is more of who I am. A ballroom dance acquaintance of mine happened to find and read my blog. When she saw me last week she expressed surprise that I would put all of that personal stuff out there. Actually, if my face-to-face acquaintances ever asked me, I'd tell them the same stuff. Only there never seems to be any time or place for those kinds of conversations in most of my real world. I do, of course, have some close friends who know exactly the same things about me that I've blogged. So, I guess it really is a fascinating new dynamic out here in blogdom for many of us. Our readers, whom we'll probably never meet (except that I am absoutely going to have to meet Jeneane face-to-face at some point; she could be my much younger twin sister [huh?]), know more of our true feelings than most of the people we deal with in person. Absolutely psychologically fascinating!
I learned everything I know about the web and blogging from him. And this is what he does? YES!! That's my boy!
And I've been so busy trying to ferment revolution that I haven't been keeping up with my favorite blogs the way I usually do. However, I did get to some of the post from Mike Sanders about our blog identities (true or false or somewhere in between) and blog relationships.
I can tell you that what you see here in my blog is what you get if you meet me in person. This is who I am. Actually, this is more of who I am. A ballroom dance acquaintance of mine happened to find and read my blog. When she saw me last week she expressed surprise that I would put all of that personal stuff out there. Actually, if my face-to-face acquaintances ever asked me, I'd tell them the same stuff. Only there never seems to be any time or place for those kinds of conversations in most of my real world. I do, of course, have some close friends who know exactly the same things about me that I've blogged. So, I guess it really is a fascinating new dynamic out here in blogdom for many of us. Our readers, whom we'll probably never meet (except that I am absoutely going to have to meet Jeneane face-to-face at some point; she could be my much younger twin sister [huh?]), know more of our true feelings than most of the people we deal with in person. Absolutely psychologically fascinating!
Sunday, March 17, 2002
Eureka! I Found One!
Or rather he found me, thanks to Denise's complimentary post.
Tom at insiteview.blogspot.com is another over-60 blogger, articulate and "authentic" (to use a word that he seems to like and so do I.) So I'm adding my first older&wiser blogger to my blog roll. It's a start.
Or rather he found me, thanks to Denise's complimentary post.
Tom at insiteview.blogspot.com is another over-60 blogger, articulate and "authentic" (to use a word that he seems to like and so do I.) So I'm adding my first older&wiser blogger to my blog roll. It's a start.
Boys will be boys, I guess
So, I get home tonight and check into Blogsisters, and discover that there are a few guys who are putting us down. Now, we all know the reason some people put down others, don't we?
Jeaneane's response on Blogsisters says it all and says it all too well. And good old non-Blogsister Burningbird put it out there beautifully as well (with 28 Comments added on!!!) But I will add my two cents here anyway. (Did you think I wouldn't?)
I cordially invite those men who don't know what they're talking about because they have not felt compelled to look at Blogsisters to do sp. And, just in case you don't want to, here's one of my recent posts, and Blogger doesn't seem to want to let me hyperlink to it anyway:
********************************************
Once upon a time, there was a clever young blogger whose address was www.opinebovine.com. She's disappeared off the web as far as any of us know, and she disappeared purposely. She made herself disappear because, as she explained before she packed up her bags and blogs and moved on, that she was being cyberharrassed and didn't know how to make it stop. It makes me so mad to think that all of that pain is following us here. Is there so safe place for women?
I ask because I believe that Jeneane saw Blogspot's Blogsisters as a space where web-savvy women (or, in my case, aspiring web-savvy women) could share what they have in common and explore, together, what they don't have in common.
I can't help wishing that more of you would share, in both real and web life, what makes you angry ? What drives you crazy? What drives you to Prozac? What do you wish there were more of? Can we, collectively, become a force on the web?
Here's an example of what we might blogjam on:
I happened to stumble on this as I was looking at some stuff about gender differences in learning:
We've had an interesting experience with a listserv here. The listserv services a computing subject with a mixture of students - young, old, internal, distance education, male dominated but some female. A mature female de student sent a friendly "hello, I'm so and so, I have x kids and a dog", sort of message and got FLAMED by two younger (we think) males who rubbished her and said who cares etc etc and complained that a listserv should only be used for content not social things.
Interesting sociological research potential. If women arguably need the chatty, supportive side to their learning, will being flamed by young males result in dropout?
On the other hand, I dropped out of a listserv of all women that had no intellectual content whatever. It was more "supportive" (virtual hugs) than any actual support group I've ever seen.
Research shows that women, generally, learn, communicate, and solve problems differently than men. Not necessarily better or worse; just differently.
We each have our own strong blogvoice. Blogsisters gives us a chance to make some really jazzy music together. I thoroughly enjoy solo performances. But there's nothing more energizing than a good blogjam!
***************************************
As a researcher and writer with the New York State Education Department, years ago I put together a report that included research data on the different ways boys and girls learn, communicate, and solve problems. Even grown up boys and girls. Of course, the findings are generalizations, and there always are individuals who are a breed apart. My post quotes an issue and question I found on the web about distance learning and gender issues. I might have posted it on my own blog, but I was more interested in just getting a female perspective, the benefit of the experiences of the techie females who blog there. Even though there are so many of us brazen females out there boldly asserting ourselves among the equally assertive guys, there are also some female bloggers who are reluctant to launch themselves into the sometimes dangerous co-ed blogseas for all kinds of personal reasons. Blogsisters is a "relatively" safe place for these women to begin asserting themselves online. A teacher by nature and profession, I see such a place necessary and valuable.
It also kind of reminds me of the old days when my college dorms were not co-ed, or when I lived in the sorority house and we could all hang out together without guys around and talk about anything that came into our heads. What the guys wouldn't have given to be able to eavesdrop on those conversations! Hey, now's your chance.
So, I get home tonight and check into Blogsisters, and discover that there are a few guys who are putting us down. Now, we all know the reason some people put down others, don't we?
Jeaneane's response on Blogsisters says it all and says it all too well. And good old non-Blogsister Burningbird put it out there beautifully as well (with 28 Comments added on!!!) But I will add my two cents here anyway. (Did you think I wouldn't?)
I cordially invite those men who don't know what they're talking about because they have not felt compelled to look at Blogsisters to do sp. And, just in case you don't want to, here's one of my recent posts, and Blogger doesn't seem to want to let me hyperlink to it anyway:
********************************************
Once upon a time, there was a clever young blogger whose address was www.opinebovine.com. She's disappeared off the web as far as any of us know, and she disappeared purposely. She made herself disappear because, as she explained before she packed up her bags and blogs and moved on, that she was being cyberharrassed and didn't know how to make it stop. It makes me so mad to think that all of that pain is following us here. Is there so safe place for women?
I ask because I believe that Jeneane saw Blogspot's Blogsisters as a space where web-savvy women (or, in my case, aspiring web-savvy women) could share what they have in common and explore, together, what they don't have in common.
I can't help wishing that more of you would share, in both real and web life, what makes you angry ? What drives you crazy? What drives you to Prozac? What do you wish there were more of? Can we, collectively, become a force on the web?
Here's an example of what we might blogjam on:
I happened to stumble on this as I was looking at some stuff about gender differences in learning:
We've had an interesting experience with a listserv here. The listserv services a computing subject with a mixture of students - young, old, internal, distance education, male dominated but some female. A mature female de student sent a friendly "hello, I'm so and so, I have x kids and a dog", sort of message and got FLAMED by two younger (we think) males who rubbished her and said who cares etc etc and complained that a listserv should only be used for content not social things.
Interesting sociological research potential. If women arguably need the chatty, supportive side to their learning, will being flamed by young males result in dropout?
On the other hand, I dropped out of a listserv of all women that had no intellectual content whatever. It was more "supportive" (virtual hugs) than any actual support group I've ever seen.
Research shows that women, generally, learn, communicate, and solve problems differently than men. Not necessarily better or worse; just differently.
We each have our own strong blogvoice. Blogsisters gives us a chance to make some really jazzy music together. I thoroughly enjoy solo performances. But there's nothing more energizing than a good blogjam!
***************************************
As a researcher and writer with the New York State Education Department, years ago I put together a report that included research data on the different ways boys and girls learn, communicate, and solve problems. Even grown up boys and girls. Of course, the findings are generalizations, and there always are individuals who are a breed apart. My post quotes an issue and question I found on the web about distance learning and gender issues. I might have posted it on my own blog, but I was more interested in just getting a female perspective, the benefit of the experiences of the techie females who blog there. Even though there are so many of us brazen females out there boldly asserting ourselves among the equally assertive guys, there are also some female bloggers who are reluctant to launch themselves into the sometimes dangerous co-ed blogseas for all kinds of personal reasons. Blogsisters is a "relatively" safe place for these women to begin asserting themselves online. A teacher by nature and profession, I see such a place necessary and valuable.
It also kind of reminds me of the old days when my college dorms were not co-ed, or when I lived in the sorority house and we could all hang out together without guys around and talk about anything that came into our heads. What the guys wouldn't have given to be able to eavesdrop on those conversations! Hey, now's your chance.
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