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Friday, July 3rd, 2009
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12:34 am
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I'm trying to decide if I'm willing to post the rest of the story or not. If there is any point, at this rate, because it's all...so...sad.
Some of it might make me look a little bad, although not nearly as bad as I could have looked if I had no honor or ethics...or just a little less common sense, which is the real thing here.
Just remember this, y'all: the best cons make the mark WANT to participate in the con.
And sometimes we get deceived because we agree to go along with the deception.
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| Sunday, June 21st, 2009
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2:19 pm
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This just came up in me and Steph's random conversation while we write...
Why does Leonardo DiCaprio play a lot of parts where he's Irish?
Is he secretly Irish? Because the name just doesn't sound Irish, somehow.
current mood:  confused
current music: Jr. Walker & The All-Stars - Shotgun
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| Thursday, June 18th, 2009
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11:35 am
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Hey, it's a good enough question for me to ask it here, too...
What was the first music you bought?
Answer here, or if you're a member, over there. I'm fascinated by people's answers thus far.
current music: Corvus Corax - Saderalladon
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| Monday, June 15th, 2009
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1:57 pm
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When reaching in my purse for my little blue bottle of artificial tears, I first pulled out my little blue bottle of curly-hair spray crap.
Had I been just a mite more stupid, that could have been EPIC.
current music: CCR - Run Through The Jungle
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| Friday, June 12th, 2009
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1:15 pm - Y'all don't know what it's like -- being male, middle-class, and white!
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Egad, this is like something from The Onion, but it's SPLC news!
Racists Threaten to Abandon Republican Party
Already reeling from the election of a black president, white supremacists were enraged by the appointment of Michael Steele - "Obama Junior," in the words of David Duke - to chair the Republican National Committee...
No one professed more outrage than David Duke, the ex-Klan boss, ex-con and former Louisiana state legislator. Duke blasted "GOP traitors" for appointing "Obama Junior as Chairman of the Republican Party."
Grasping for a silver lining, Duke bravely predicted "a huge revolt" in the Republican base. "As a former Republican official, I can tell you that millions of rank-and-file Republicans are mad as hell and aren't going to take it anymore! We will either take the Republican Party back over the next four years or we will say, 'To Hell with the Republican Party!' And we will take 90 percent of Republicans with us into a New Party that will take its current place!"
It's telling, innit, that he uses the phrase "take back." Then again he has held elected office.
But this, THIS is the really Oniony part:
Perhaps the only bright spot in recent mainstream political events for the anti-immigration sector of the extremist movement came in late January, when outgoing President Bush commuted the lengthy sentences of Jose Compean and Ignacio Ramos, two Border Patrol agents imprisoned for shooting an unarmed, fleeing drug smuggler in the buttocks and then attempting to cover up the episode. Nativists from Lou Dobbs to the vigilante Minutemen groups had demanded their release.
Celebration of the commuted sentences in white supremacist circles was considerably less enthusiastic, considering that both agents are of Latino descent. As "Aryan Warlord" put it in his Jan. 19 post to a Ramos-and-Compean discussion thread on the white nationalist online forum Stormfront: "Okay, so they can't hold authority over whites any more but they get out of prison [for shooting a Mexican]. I can live with that."
Hurp durp!
current mood:  amused
current music: J. Geils Band - Freeze Frame
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| Tuesday, June 9th, 2009
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12:33 pm
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Googling for something utterly random (a picture of the Shangri-Las, for a friend, if you must know), I hit upon this blog. I can NOT stop looking at it.
Right; I have work to finish, so must stop looking.
That would be the Shangri-Las, the Weiss sisters and the Ganser twins. They were the bad-girl group, and sang a bunch of dead-teenager songs ("Leader of the Pack," "Give Us Your Blessings," et al. teenage tragedies). They were still, strangely, cool.
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| Monday, June 8th, 2009
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2:28 pm
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Good thing, though:
I'm 85,000 words along, know where the other 15,000 words are coming from -- although I have a couple details to work out as I write -- and I still don't think it sucks.
Also, what I was afraid might bo too gimmicky an idea to sustain as a minor-but-significant plot/character point has turned out to work just fine.
current mood:  cranky
current music: Jo-El Sonnier - Allons A Lafayette
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| Wednesday, May 27th, 2009
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4:42 pm - X-posted to Facebook: another old photo
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This picture is from my bin of family pics, obviously. It is problematic. One may assume, from the streak across it, that it was at the end of a roll of film. It is also scratchy. So that needs fixing. Although I've upped the contrast, because it was really too dark, it's now too contrasty.
The woman is my grandmother; her body position as she turns to wave looks almost incredibly limber to me. The little girl pretty much has to be my Aunt Judy rather than my mom, based on hair texture. I think the man who is turned is my grandfather, but I'm not absolutely certain. He appears to be carrying a purse. Judy's carrying what has to be a doll, but lord knows what is tucked under Grandma's arm. Not a purse, that much I'd be sure of. Guy in white jacket? Waiter or some kind of functionary. They are gussied up, and the hallway/room is nicely panelled. I'm guessing they're going out to dinner somewhere. I really like my grandma's f---me pumps.
I can't decide if this picture is worth the full-on Photoshop job, but I might should get around to it. Curious picture.
current music: Allman Brothers - Blue Sky
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| Friday, May 15th, 2009
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3:41 pm
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News article, lifted from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) drownedinink:
Judge rules family can't refuse chemo for boy.
My take on people refusing treatment for their kids on religious grounds has always felt a little inconsistent, but here it is:
I should be able to refuse treatment on religious grounds for myself. But if my daughter needs treatment, I don't believe I should be able to refuse it *for her* on religious grounds.
I think that right ends where my body does, and my child is not an extension of myself, even if I have included her in my religious and spiritual practices.
There is a reason why ethical religions do not convert children, and while you have customs like christening and such to include them in the group's spiritual life, they are not considered full-fledged members until they have taken a certain period of study and reflection and made the choice themselves, usually in their teens or adulthood.
The Amish even have a custom called Rumspringa, whereby they send teens out to sample all the non-Amish world has to offer before making a formal and conscious adherence to the church. Many -- most -- of them do return, deciding the English are not as much to their liking as they might have thought.
There's a REASON why most religions have this notion.
I read this article and am appalled that the parents are trying to claim it was the child's decision alone, given the circumstances.
I was even more appalled, though, when I read that they were members of the Nemenhah Band, the group founded by Philip Cloudpiler Landis, after his supposed healing from a similar form of cancer using Native American medicines. O.K., so why does that appall me? Because I recognized the name of Philip Cloudpiler Landis. He's a fraud. There IS no Nemenhah Native Band as some kind of ancient NDN traditon; it's something he started back in the '90s.
He's claimed in the past to have some familial connection to Chief Joseph. He now claims to be one-quarter Nez Perce, and heir to the...some tradition or other with a really unpronounceable name that is not recognized by other NDNs, as far as I can tell. I think the word I'm looking for here is Pretendian, right? And if anyone who knows more than me can point me to reputable sources acknowledging Landis's (and Nemenhah Band's) legitimacy by an *accepted and legitimate indigenous group*, please let me know. Here's a discussion of them, just to give y'all an idea. A good take on this case; some of the reader comments are...nutty.
Check this out. From the Nemenhah Web site:
"In the ancient tradition of the Nemenhah, when a child was seen to have some aptitude or interest in the Ministry of Healer, the little one was taken to the Holy Man or Woman of the Village. The Mother promised to make moccasins for the child, symbolically pledging to support the child. The Father promised to make meat for the child, symbolically pledging to support the child. This was all done in the spirit and after the custom of the Sacred Giveaway, or what is called the ‘donation’ today.
Nemenhah Medicine Men and Women declare that Natural Healing is part of their Spiritual Orientation and that they will ‘First Do No Harm.’ If you can make this declaration, the Nemenhah Band invites you to request Spiritual Adoption and join with the Community of the Nemenhah.
Membership is only by Spiritual Adoption. It is also the only way the Nemenhah Seminary can accept you into the program and designate you a Medicine Man or Medicine Woman. As a Nemenhah Medicine Man or Woman you will be able to practice your Healing Ministry under the full weight and protection of the Native American Free Exercise of Religion Act 1993 (NAFERA) and the Religious Freedom Restoration Act 1993 (RFRA).
After reading the Constitution of the Band, if you wish to request Spiritual Adoption and to begin your training as a Nemenhah Medicine Man or Woman, click on the link below, download the PDF application for spiritual adoption, fill it out, and mail with the suggested donation to:"
Hey! An NDN tribe you can only join by "Spiritual Adoption"! Every White Wanna-be's dream! And you can become a Medicine Man via donation! A MEDICINE MAN! In an Ancient Native Spiritual Tradition that has Spiritually Adopted you, for the low, low cost of...never mind.
Holy mackerel.
You know how sometimes I go off on stuff like "fake traditions" and often get taken to task for dissing? There might be a lot of truth to the objections people give me to that, especially as I do try to have some principles about tolerance in faith, or lack thereof.
Yeah, sometimes I'm kind of harsh. But here? What do Y'ALL think?
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| Saturday, May 9th, 2009
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3:50 pm
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Boodgie just walked up to me, shook one little hip in a saucy manner, and sang...
"I'm a joker/I'm a smoker/I'm a midnight toker/I get my loving on the run!"
And then announced, quite loudly, "I really love your peaches! Wanna shake your tree!"
...Have I mentioned this is in a public place?
I know I've mentioned her liking the music of Steve Miller, but it never occurred to me that she would cotton on to the least-appropriate lyrics he wrote...
current music: Lovey-dovey, lovey-dovey all the tiiime...
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| Thursday, May 7th, 2009
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3:45 pm
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| Wednesday, May 6th, 2009
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5:10 pm
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So I tend to get a little smug while listening to the traffic reports on the Atlanta stations...because Ha! I don't have to mess with that.
So perhaps I am being taught a little lesson when something happens like this...
I am riding the 18 miles between Greensboro and downtown Madison, and there is a beater pickup truck two cars in front of me. Who, as beater pickups in this area are really prone to do usually because they're farm vehicles (one of the reasons I try never to pull out behind one), he is ambling along, hitting a top speed of about 40 (do i need to say 278 is a 55-mph limit road?) Naturally, the green car in front of me is tailgating him, so since I drive a 13-year-old Saturn with NO pickup, I have no passing options, and green car apparently has no interest in passing, just braking.
Since the pickup truck is presumably a farm vehicle, I figure we won't be going far...
But he keeps going. And then a truck pulls up behind me and passes me, but of course while I have left plenty of space between me and the green car, the green car is tailgating. Meaning this truck isn't passing, since he's got the kind of truck with little pickup either.
And he also -- judging by the smell -- is carrying a load of chicken poo.
And now a logging truck comes right up on my butt.
So how long until the beater pickup truck finally turned off, leaving the rest of us to go something like normal speeds?
All the way to Madison. He turned off at 441. So did chicken-poo truck, going the other way. mercifully, the logging truck pulled off at Georgia Pacific.
18 miles, I tell you. I've done my penance.
current mood:  blah
current music: Jet - Cold Hard Bitch
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| Friday, April 24th, 2009
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4:35 pm
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( Big picture, I'm too lazy te resize right now )
Boodgie, after dance class.
The kid has...style.
Yesterday I went to pick her up from school, and tried to give her a kiss. She kind of stiffarmed me. I was thinking, "Oh, no! So soon?" Especially because not long ago she did admit that on occasion, I embarrass her. But she said, "I shouldn't kiss you right now, but it's not your fault."
"Why?" Ask I.
"I found a ladybug that was sick and so I gave it CPR. And it worked! But I gave it too much, and I sucked it into my mouth and was choking on it. So then I spit it out. And it was still alive, but it didn't like any of this one bit, so it peed on me. So I didn't want to get ladybug pee on you. But I revived it with CPR, isn't that cool?"
Oh.
current music: Sonny Landreth - Creole Angel
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| Tuesday, April 21st, 2009
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7:18 pm
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I have an overpowering craving for something ungodly sweet, like birthday cake or maybe a pink frosted cupcake.
I have no funds, alas.
But I want a damn cupcake. Right now.
Whenever I get very specific food cravings, I try to feed them, no matter how outre they might be, because I figure if my body is saying I need a BLT or flan or guava or cafe con leche or licorice or taramasalata, there is something in that particular foodstuff that is necessary to my physical wellbeing in that moment.
Mmhhmm.
I therefore need a cupcake. Yes.
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| Monday, April 20th, 2009
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2:12 pm - Hotcoffeems's Final Last Word About Parenting
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I think much of what you and I accept glibly as truth because someone on the internet said it was so and then it got repeated over and over again...needs some serious thinking about, and then needs to get roundfiled.
A recent blog post that created a tempest of teapot proportions involving e-stalking and handwringing and “you go, girl!”ing and I don't know what-all partly inspired me to really, really think...well, actually, it didn't inspire deep thought: it inspired an immediate “Ha! I call horsepuckey!” reaction.
This is what we all know, and what the post in question reiterated: Parenting children is HARD. And in this society it takes real courage to come out and admit that it isn't a huge source of fulfillment to you, and sometimes you'd rather be doing something else, particularly if you're a woman.
Further thing that set me off: someone I know confessed to me after spending a weekend “being domestic” with his girlfriend and her 4-year-old that he didn't think he wanted to do that regularly. Having kids around is such hard work, and it's all of the time, and he just didn't think he was up to the task. Well right you are, hoss.
Right?
So what's the horsepuckey part?( Because every now and again, I've got waaaay too much to say about something )
current mood:  awake
current music: Mark Knopfler - Who's Your Baby Now
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| Monday, April 13th, 2009
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4:53 pm
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And also cross-posted from my Facebook, as a thing for people who aren't on FB; apologies for anyone who gets it twice...
My older sister and me, in 1972.
Heh.
(And yeah, we don't look anything alike, even now.)
current mood: amused
current music: Sonny Landreth - New Landlord
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4:16 pm
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Well so, today, we were treated to rains and high winds.
What does "high winds" mean?
It means that it sounded like something ungodly was happening; it meant that the walls of my house were shaking; it meant that a pine tree contrived to fall and get smacked into my house. (Two pine trees fell -- one by the river, and one up near the house. But it had to have *blown* onto the house; the trees close by the house are live oaks, which actually would have done damage. My gosh, I was *lucky*. However, pines fall more easily than live oaks.)
I got scared; I was literally under my dining room table for a while. Dolly the Cat meowed urgently to be held and cuddled; Biscuit scrunched up next to me, Madison -- bless him -- was outside and I couldn't get him in (he was in the crawl space, and was fine after), and the Small and Evil Cat huddled on the couch. Her dislike of Dolly is so serious she wasn't getting under there with us; she just glowered at Dolly. Seriously; the two of them always glare at each other like, "Bitch, I'll CUT you." It's weird, but I swan that's what they say to each other.
I should clarify that I live in a doublewide, for anyone who doesn't know.
So I had this image of myself...
You know how whenever there's a weather event -- like tornadoes and hurricanes -- the persons they always interview are these poor bastards with Southern accents, trying to say something coherent about what they've been through as they stand in front of the ruins of their trailer home?
I saw myself being that poor bastard. That's what I was thinking while under the table. There really is nowhere safe in a trailer, so table it is. With cats.
But to really fulfill the image, I would have needed to be wearing a ballcap. Everyone they interview is wearing ballcaps.
I sound flip, but that was really what I was picturing.
current mood:  okay
current music: Sonny Landreth - Bayou Teche
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| Saturday, April 11th, 2009
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1:17 pm
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I know posting poetry *can* be construed as twee (I like it when others do it, but I know some don't), but this? Has near-stunned me. and I'm posting it here so I have it; if other people enjoy it, it's ALL good.
( A little bit of Rumi for the day )
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| Friday, April 10th, 2009
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10:40 am
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Crossposted from my Facebook:
This is Zahirah and Jimmy. I did this as a quick watercolor sketch late last night. I messed up the hand, and I didn't have a convenient reference for the KFC box, but it was late and figured it showed what it needed to. This is actually what they look like to me, so I'm satisfied with it as a reference.
I like to have a visual reference for my characters when I'm writing. This might help me get past the 70,000 mark this weekend, which I intend to fill with writing. Insha'allah, that is, because one never knows. also, yWriter, wihch I heartily recommend as a program (it does *exactly* what I wanted a writing program to do, and is freeware), has a feature allowing you to upload portraits of your characters.
P.S. If you're thinking she looks a bit like the djinn in the icon, it's because I seem to have painted that djinn as a prototype for Zahirah, before she emerged enough for me to write about her. I didn't know I was doing that at the time, but there you go.
And in the meantime, today might be a little melancholy. We shall see.
current mood: annoyed
current music: Duane Eddy - Rebel Rouser
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| Tuesday, April 7th, 2009
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4:47 pm
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This news item made me wince a little:
Mecca's mosques aligned wrong.
No, I have to agree with the guy quoted at the end: I just can't see this is going to invalidate your prayers.
There's a lot of precision to Islamic worship, which is a part of its beauty in my eye, but the danger comes in being too dogmatic about the precision. Forest for trees, y'all.
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