This may very well be the most interesting (if not essential) presidential race since the peanut farmer from Georgia came away with the keys to the White House.
Notice who is behind and to the right (your right) of Governor Mike. That's why Iowans Heart Huckabee.
In other news, the baby is teething. Has been for several days. And nights. Nobody's sleeping. And her first go at the Baby Orajel didn't go so well. Update: Her second didn't take didn't go much better, if at all.
We've also been trying (lately) the old frozen rag trick (no, it's not oily) as well as gently rubbing her gums. These seem to be only momentary and oh-too-temporary distractions for the constant pain.
I don't want my baby to start on pills already. She's too innocent.
I suppose I would have never figured Kenya to devolve into these tactics. Maybe, no, especially, their neighboring countries. But not Kenya.
I knew it was a corrupt state. But I always thought that it was more, um... civilized, I suppose. I sound ignorant. And despite the fact that I once knew a good number of Kenyans, I am.
I wonder if, though, this had happened here in the US in 2000, after our hotly contested, and highly controversial presidential election (to put it nicely), how things would have turned out differently.
But rape and machetes and water cannons and banning of political marches and burning of villagers hiding in a church? There is a lot of desperation, and I suppose that I do not know nearly as much as I thought I knew about the state of the downtrodden and poor and ethnic conflicts (way to go, stupid imperialism!) in that nation.
Pray for Kenya. Pray for Kenyans.
By the way, from what I've read from the BBC: Focus on Africa magazine for this quarter, the two top contenders (incumbent Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga) are very similar - at least in terms of policies and political views. (Note: The Time article confirms this. Also worth a read for a brief recap and catch-up on the reasons behind the rioting and ethnic killings.) Odinga is calling himself a reformer, but apparently the only thing that will change if he's in power will be the temperament of the president - Kibaki is seen as laid-back and indifferent while Odinga is seen as a hot-head who does not suffer disagreements.
I'm not into bootlegs, copywrite violations, file-sharing, etc. I do think, that to an extent, they qualify as stealing, or some participation in it. Overall, though, my take is this: support the artist. The music industry business itself, especially as it is not supporting the development of the artists so much anymore, and are making artists pay for their own recordings, are paying them back a small percentage of what they make, don't cover touring and the heavy promotional stuff (except for traditional radio, something they've been good at for well over 50 years and the occasional big artist/band/American Idol), and now they're going after the fans.
One music fan (and certainly the type of music fan that the industry wants on their side, judging by her music selection), as many are well aware, was ordered to pay a sum of [edit] $220,000 (US) to the industry for sharing a total of 24 songs. That breaks down to about $9,250 each song - far above the going rate for pop music. The shocking thing, however, wasn't that she was charged, the shocking thing is that she didn't back down to the Goliath that is the RIAA and is going through the court system. And fighting against their expensive (and ludicrous) lawyers.
(Another charge against the music industry: Twenty-four songs along the likes of Richard Marx, Journey and Destiny's Child. Apparently, despite her high-tech means, she couldn't find any music made within this century.)
According to this article in the Washington Post, the RIAA views "the industry maintains that it is illegal for someone who has legally purchased a CD to transfer that music into his computer."
RIAA, you suck.
And furthermore, I haven't watched your joke of an award show (nor cared for the outcomes) in years.
Grow up or die.
Edit:
Radiohead got more from its near give-away of its record InRainbows online than the record company prior to this had given them for all of their sales online - including iTunes (before the actual physical copy even debuted).
"We’ve made more money out of this record than out of all the other Radiohead albums put together, forever [in terms of anything put out on the net]... It’s partly due to the fact that EMI wasn’t giving us any money for digital sales." This according to their frontman Thom Yorke in Wired Magazine. (h/t to paidContent.org via Ypulse)
In case you aren't aware (say... you're my wife) Radiohead decided to post its last record for download at whatever flippin' price the customer deemed it worthy to pay. Most, of course, paid nothing or close to nothing (not because it wasn't worth it. Many claim this to be their best album since Kid A. But because people can be wipes. Cheap wipes.), but Radiohead still got the better end of the bargain.
From the Wired intro:
Roughly 40 percent of [the downloaders] paid for it, according to comScore, at an average of $6 each, netting the band nearly $3 million. Plus, since it owns the master recording (a first for the band), Radiohead was also able to license the album for a record label to distribute the old-fashioned way — on CD.
$3,000,000? That's more than all of their combined records sold made them?
And if that's not enough to get your heart fluttering...
It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance -- for a moment or a year or the span of a life. And then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire, or light. That is what I said in the Pentecost sermon. I have reflected on that sermon, and there is some truth in it. But the Lord is more constant and far more extravagant than it seems to imply. Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it? -- Marilynne Robinson, from Gilead
At this moment, I'm holding my daughter as she's struggling to comprehend and eat her Christmas toys. She is the cutest thing (click here if you want proof) and soft and cuddly to boot. And her smile, when she smiles, is a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. It's a sunset over the ocean, with the salty breeze blowing just hard enough to smell it. It's Pentecost.
But sometimes when I'm away from her and my wife, I get saddened that I am not with them. It's a sort of every-day letdown. A feeling that I've come down from the mountaintop and that life is somehow more dreary, somehow less vivid, and I am less alive. Where's the sun, I ask in this classroom or that hallway or office? Where's the sweet sprinkle of sea water?
But, much like Moses only seeing God while on the mountain, much like the one reassuring vision that MLK had, the mountaintop experiences validate - and should not replace - the dessert years. That grace is recognizing the glory in our everyday lives. That I work for my Lord - as well as for my daughter and my wife. And, well, my own sanity.
Part of the reason for this blog-a-thon is that I have seen way too much good music of the last two decades + go unheralded because it was in the Christian ghetto of the music recording industry - CCM. Now that the music industry is dying a slow-death and artists are able to self-produce and release their own CD's with the ease of pushing a few buttons and opening a MySpce account, the sad poetry of this underground and embattled music legacy is lost. What's even sadder is that, with the exception of eBay, most of the recordings are long gone. Here's to hoping for a resurgence, of sorts.
The irony, of course, is that the underground CCM movement may be understood better today than ever before, even the previous DIY time, the late '70s.
Note: This essay is actually a revision of a previous and longer essay on Adam Again. Dig, by Adam Again
Whereas their previous and more jamming funk-rock band album Homeboys focused on the street level, Dig dug "Deep" into the recesses of the soul to produce a treasure worth treasuring. Although ostensibly about the divorce that frontman, singer, organist, guitarist, co-songwriter, lyricist, engineer, producer, studio owner, co-label owner and all-around profound artist Gene Eugene and bandmate, dancing dervish, vocal harmonizer Riki Michele were heading towards, the music was primarily about the emotional toll taken in the wake of their ongoing separation and the search for meaning in those dark times, not le divorce itself (which isn't atypical in the underground music scene these days). The disc is filled with enough archetypal images - digging, card playing (fate and relationships interplayed in fate and loss), water, dirt and earth - to make Carl Jung blush. It also helps to make the album universal - even though it itself is ironically hidden. It's a work of pure staggering everyman's art, taking specific, personal experiences and expressing them in an accessible language so that many can claim these opuses as their own.
And then there's the music. Gene had had plenty of experience in nearly every field of non-mainstream music as far as CCM was considered - working with hip hop, hardcore, punk, industrial (such as Mortal), post-punk, shoe-gazer, college rock, new wave, etc., etc. Gene also was deeply influenced by the great singer-songwriters: Dylan, Van Zandt, Cohen (who he referenced in their next album), and was influenced by such disparate figures as Stevie Wonder, Social Distortion, X, the Beatles and 70's rock radio.
But, at heart, I think that Gene wanted to rock and roll in a band that played the funkiest Fender Rhodes you've heard since 1976 (adapted from Homeboys). Yet the love for hard rock and punk (and even Americana) was there and pulsing through the backbeat of this band. It was a funk-rock fusion that, as said here, the Red Hot Chili Peppers would die to have - if they weren't so lazy. The main guitar was done by Greg Lawless, a monster, who could spit out tasty and crunchy riffs like Chester Cheeta with an axe and kick crazy asphalt of your chin like a face-melting Jackie Chan. The bass, as I'm told by the daughter of an avid bass-player, was laid down by Paul Valadez and is the shiz-bit, the ground you flippin' walk on. And then there's the welcome funky and foundational addition of John Knox, drummer extraordinaire, who's day job was to pound the skins for mainstream Christian rock act Whiteheart. Thank God he did extracurricular activities. The combo was unlike many others. Too bad for others.
The disc starts with a barn-stormer. "Deep" begins the theme of this album with stream-of-conscience poetry and a funky start/stop second guitar, mediating the Author into the mystery of the story. It's a story about mystery, about things not being as they seem or as we want them to be. It may also be about things not being what we envision them to be. "Girl ghost is in the stairway / She likes it when I rub my eyes... I don't want to / you don't want to / we don't want to know / And dying on the cross / for the sick and the loss / is the Lover that I long to know." Halfway in there, Jon Knox's drumming comes alive unto its own and threatens to devour through sheer force of high-hat cymbal-banging. And certainly those lyrics testify that it is also about revelation, an eye-opener that Jesus is not passive, but actively participating in our suffering through his own sacrifice of his own life. The title given to the one on the cross (you would note that not once do they refer to Jesus by name, part of the reason why they never made it big, or even moderately, in the Christian music ghetto) adds extra dimensions and says that this is not just a God or man who distances himself from us or our humanity, but loves us and yet somehow remains mysterious. Note other burning lyrics:
My days of wishful thinking Soldiers of sorrow sinking words dance beginnings riddle and in the end and in the middle deep will i dig I... see a shovel in the hand of a wild-eyed man with a mission and a goal below... I've learned of this religion but I've lost my peaceful vision
Notice also that Gene stretches out his I's. They become part and parcel of his personal vision, a sad self-reflection of a man trapped within himself, trying hard to shake himself free by self-discovery.
"It Is What It Is (What It Is)" presaged the most common answer by NBA stars, maybe in an attempt to avoid questions a la Dylan (probably about the indie rock and artistry that they would attempt within the realm of the bloated and convellent Contemporary Christian Music scene and the Christian bookstores they sold through.). "Ask a stupid question / you get a sideways quote / The reasonable would demand it." Indeed.
Sense to be made I am afraid I need to understand it. The audience is baited I got it by the throat That monumental big decision It is what it is what it is
"Dig" begins with a pulsing Fender and slowly burns. Riki adds her sweetly melancholy melody on the second verse, Gene adds another vocal harmony slightly later and towards the end they fill in with guitars, drums, and bass.
Consult the cards to measure time the earth is hard, the treasure fine... Will the eagle fly if the sky's untrue do the faithful sigh because they are so few At the sea, I'll wait on my knees
Gene Eugene has a nasal voice often though unfairly compared to REM's Michael Stipe. On this album, however, he wraps his vocals around the lyrics like a down blanket on a cold night and the additional harmonics of the Rhodes and background singer and spurned lover Riki Michele put him in a warm atmosphere, certainly in songs like "Dig." On "Hopeless, Etc." Gene stretches his vocals - some would say unconvincingly - to add dimension to the lyrics. "Hopeless, Etc." is ego-focused. Each verse begins with and expands on an elongated "I'm," holding at times for several bars and filling-out with 'hopeless,' 'useless,' and 'worthless' with a coda on the '-less.' It's a twisted worship song for the Me Generation. And it's a rocker, albeit one that also carries those song-building effects, this time starting fresh with every verse.
The oh-so meta (before meta went haywire and mainstream) "Songwork" is about the difficulty of writing that perfect song, or sometimes any song. But it is also about the difficulty of art, of - here's that theme again - the toil and sheer luck of discovering. He asks the difficult questions: which voices do I listen to, and to what end is all of this coming to? It's also one of the heavier songs musically, plodding along as if stuck in the mud. And apparently that is what happened to Gene until he decided to try a stream-of-conscience approach - which in turn greatly influenced my own writing (well, poetry. This prose stuff me no so good at).
Am I learning Patience Is my spirit restored Do I listen to the beggar Or the woman at the door
"Worldwide" & "Walk Between the Raindrops," apparently, are about the social and global ills that face us as a brother- and sisterhood. The murder of Headman Shabalala (of Ladysmith Black Mozambo) and the plight of the homeless are raised to question our incapacity to compassionately act, suggesting that if we can merely explain the situation without grieving alongside the Holy Spirit on this, we are as likely to walk between raindrops. And the jump-kick on "Worldwide" kicks butt. "Keep your holy hair in place / the wind is gonna blow / the humble and the poor keep breathing." The guitars are psychadelic wha-wha's that Lenny Kravitz wishes he could borrow with any sense of credibility. Adam Again is truly urban rock. 100% urban, 100% rock.
Rumored to be a big influence on Over the Rhine (who's brilliant Drunkard's Prayer is a beautiful counter-point to the themes on this album and who played the screeching and haunting guitar coda from this song that was in itself stolen from Hendrix) "River on Fire" is the only song that seems to speak of the ensuing separation between husband and wife - indirectly or not. The burning of the over-polluted Cuyahoga River in Cleveland serves as the self-referential metaphor. The cello plays its part to leave the song drudging slowly along, methodically pulling us to gaze at the inevitable crash and slow burn of a feral mass of water, moodily created by the Hendrix-ian coda of the guitar at the end - wailing its way to a fiery death.
After the guitar chord drops a chill in the spine, we are treated with a rollicking "That Hill." Lyrically, it's about the failure of success, but musically it's a funky, hard-rocking blast with an engaging melody and riffs galore. Gene sings dispassionately behind the driving funk-load, "I climbed that hill... I wanted to be on the top / I wanted to be on the top / Big deal." Turn that into a motivational poster!
Adam Again would release one more album (Perfecta, which was pretty darned good in its own right) before Gene Eugene passed in 2000. He was busy making other people's music. I wanted more Digs.
Further reading: http://www.phileasphogg.net/reviews/adamagain_chrono.html Music and myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/adamagain
Because of the sensitivity of this post, I'm just gonna let this one speak for itself:
Several NewYorkpapers reported this year on the more than 700 public-school teachers being paid full salary to sit idly in [one of thirteen] facilities known informally as "rubber rooms" and do nothing until an arbitration board can review accusations of misconduct against them. The board of education won't permit the teachers to interact with students while charges are pending (even for offenses as trivial as buying a potted plant for the classroom without the principal's approval), but union contracts prevent them from doing administrative work, and the overloaded arbitrators convene at most once a week, so accused teachers wind up spending months or even years reading, writing, watching TV, knitting, practicing their putting, etc., at an estimated cost of up to $40 million.
Chuck Shepherd, Chicago Reader, November 15, 2007.
I will say that this NYTimes article, by education writer and journalism professor Samuel G. Freedman, is worth reading. Some excerpts:
The room in question was about 1,100 square feet and on blueprints submitted to the Fire Department was designed to hold 26 people. On this day, it contained upward of 75. It had no windows, no land phone, no Internet access, no wall decorations, not even a clock. Any personal belongings left overnight were removed by custodians.
Some of the occupants faced criminal charges like assault, while others had been brought up by city education officials for termination due to incompetence or other causes. Still more, including Mr. Valtchev, had not yet received a formal letter specifying any allegation. Until their cases are resolved, which can take years, all are required to spend the 181 days of the school year in the rubber room.
And although the teachers there receive their full salaries, the stale, spartan conditions and the absence of any physical or intellectual stimulation provide a ceaseless reminder that in some respects they are guilty until proved innocent.
“There is a spirit of the K.G.B. about it,” Mr. Valtchev said in an interview on Monday. “Their main strategy is to destabilize the person, reduce his self-respect...
“Even in the penal system,” said Ms. Cohen, a veteran of more than 240 days in the rubber room, “they permit rehabilitation.”
I've had this wonderful little idea for a series of posts that's been stuck in the back of my head for the last few weeks. It really stems from a complete frustration that it's the end of the year and I've neither seen enough movies or bought enough music to make my typical end of the year lists. It also stems from being disappointed in the lack of coverage of some of my favorite Christian recording artists, even by those who know something about Christian recording artists (of course, the word 'artist' is only tenuously applied here).
For a while I was thinking about doing a series of essays highlighting what I believe to be the best Albums by Christians that Rock (More on that phrasing later). I would soon follow that up by a best Albums by Christians that Folk (and Country) series and a best Albums by Christians that are Heads series. There would also probably be a miscellany thrown in there too (Black/White Gospel, Pop, Soundtrack, Veggie Tales cover, etc.), but you get the point.
But then an epiphany: Why not allow others to join in on the fun? So, if you're reading this, you've probably been invited. If you haven't, consider yourself invited. And if you don't have a blog by now, you might as well open one up just for this momentous occasion.
Now for the best part, the guidelines (not to be strictly enforced. But be aware that I do have ties to the mob):
1) It has to be an album (vinyl, cassette, CD, 8-track, whatever, the medium's not so important in this case - unless you want it to be) not just a song, and one that you do or did own and preferably listened to several times and can probably quote from memory.
2) It's an album put out by a self-professed Christian, or group of self-professed Christians, or from a band headed by a self-professed Christians. You do not have to agree with their particular worldview or brand of Christianity. They may never have been a believing Christian, they may have back-slidden, they may be arch-conservative or ultra-liberal, but they need to be a Christian by their own proclamations and their Christianity should, in some way, influence their music in much the same way that me being a Chicagoan affects my attitude and outlook (I'm so cold). (Note, the qualification is not if the group or performer is a Contemporary Christian Music artist or even remotely aligned with that tag.) So, although U2 and King's X and Danielson qualify, George Harrison and Bruce Springsteen and Evenescence do not.
3) That would mean, of course, that Carman and Stryper qualify. So, that brings us to our third guideline: It has to be of interest to you. You may do one on your favorite. You may do one on fond memories. You may do an expose. You may tell-all. In any case, it should inspire you to write something fairly original, something worth reading and writing.
4) And oh-so-important: It has to flippin' R.O.C.K.! Talkin' Led Zeppelin/Nirvana/Sex Pistols rock. Ok, maybe not necessarily. But save the other types of music (anything from Mark Heard to Sufjan Stevens to Michael W. Smith to Sam Cooke to M.C. Hammer) for another time. We're looking for face-melters / *alls-to-the-walls / Air-guitar-strumming / Butt-Head-tested, Beavis-approved / Let-your-Hendrix-Freak-Flag-Fly-All-Out / AC/DC Salute-worthy / Mosh Pit-ready rock. Roll is optional.
5) It should be an essay. Not a five paragraph essay, mind you. Not necessarily a one-pager, but a fair jaunt. Definitely not a blurb.
I think that's it. Blogger, WordPress, MySpace, your Space, it's all good FaceSpace. Yeah, you would need to post it next on something that goes up over that there internet contraption what's so popular these days.
Posts are going up next week to coincide with this whole end of the year thing (I hear that's the talk of the town). If you want to join in, hit me up and I'll link you in a round-up post.
The gauntlet has been thrown down, ladies. Who will bite the apple?
From the You Know It's the End of the World When Files:
To the list of stories that were once weird but now occur with such frequency that they must be retired from circulation, we add: (87) the animal (often a squirrel) that blunders into equipment at an electrical substation, killing itself and knocking out power for thousands (as in Auburn, California, and Ironwood, Michigan, in November); and (88) the shoplifter who brings a child along on the job, then abandons him to flee from security officers (as 39-year-old Suzzette Gruber allegedly did to her eight-month-old son in Hartsdale, New York, in October).*
Note: I have no plans on taking Joss with me on such errands. So that's not so relevant.
According to a story by a Bay Area NBC affiliate, the cute little rodents are overly aggressive in a park in Mountain View, where six people have reportedly been attacked since May.
The city is trying to make sure people don't bring food into the children's play area at the park."I think it's our fault, because we made them aggressive," Carmen Perez of Palo Alto said. "Now it's dangerous and we have to do something." [Officials said the increasingly brazen behavior stems from years of being fed by park visitors.]
In response to attacks, the city of Mountain View has announced it plans to start trapping and killing the aggressive tree squirrels...
But, wait, it gets weirder.
Ironically, efforts to curb the behavior may have exacerbated the squirrels' aggressive tendencies, Muela said. This summer, the city installed new trash receptacles featuring metal tops with a latch that makes it nearly impossible for an animal to rummage through the can in search of food. Increased park ranger patrols and flier distributions cautioning against feeding the animals might have further cut the squirrels' food supply, prompting them to act more assertively in their quest for food.
But of course, some people are irate at the prospect of killing God's little fuzzy-tailed rats. One citizen, however, seems to fuel the fires of conspiracy theorists with his email:
"The squirrels will be back," South Bay wildlife rehabilitator Norma Campbell said. "For every one you take out, two more will come in. It could be a never-ending project that isn't going to accomplish anything."
Sound familiar anyone?
Duhn-dun-dun'
*Chuck Shepherd's News of the Weird, Chicago Reader December 20, 2007
Because of family obligations today, I wasn't able to attend church this morning. Nothing really new there. We (as a couple at least) have missed probably more than half the services since Joss was born. That's neither atypical nor criminal. But today was the last Sunday of Advent, the Sundays leading up to our celebration of the birth of our Savior and Lord, and I love sermons on the incarnation. I would have especially appreciated something from that lineage today, and more so because we are a part of a new church that tries to bridge the gap between the more ancient and modern worlds of the Body of Christ.
In any case though, the Advent Prayer for the week:
Today we relight the first three candles of the Advent Wreath — the candles of HOPE, PEACE and JOY.
Now we light the fourth candle of Advent. This is the candle of LOVE.
Jesus demonstrated self-giving love in his ministry as the Good Shepherd. Advent is a time for kindness, thinking of others, and sharing with others. It is a time to love as God loved us by giving us his most precious gift. As God is love, let us be love also.
In the Book of Deuteronomy we find these words:
“For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. — Deuteronomy 10:17-19a
From the Gospel of John we hear:
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” — John 13:34-35
Let us pray: Teach us to love, O Lord. May we always remember to put you first as we follow Christ’s footsteps, that we may know your love and show it in our lives. As we prepare for our celebration of Jesus’ birth, also fill our hearts with love for the world, that all may know your love and the one whom you have sent, your son, our Savior. Amen.
h/t to Scot McKnight, who I just completely stole this post from.
File this one under The Blood of the Lamb Alcohol Levels:
In a November article in the Irish Times, priests voiced their concern about likely upcoming reductions in the legal blood-alcohol limit for drivers in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Thanks to a clergy shortage, many priests must perform multiple masses in multiple locations, and since the use of nonalcoholic sacramental wine has been barred y the Vatican, they fear that even drinking a minimal amount of wine at each service would put them over the limit while driving to their next assignment.
"Perhaps it [celebrating a number of Masses] could be enough for you to fail a drink driving test, and while I don't like to use the word wine, as it is the precious blood in the Eucharist, it still has all the characteristics of wine when in the blood stream," said Fr D'Arcy.
But here's my question, under these new restrictions, will any Irish adults be able to drive?
This from Chuck Shepherd's section in the Chicago Reader:
A new UK lottery game called "Cool Cash" was canceled earlier this month after less than a week of play because the arithmetic involved proved [to be] too difficult. Participants were required to compare a temperature visible on the game card to a second temperature hidden behind a scratch-off panel; if the second temperature was lower, the card was a winner.
Doesn't sound so hard yet, does it?
But in accordance with the game's winter theme, many of the temperatures were below zero, and officials said they received numerous complaints from players who couldn't understand why, for example, -5 wasn't lower than -6.
On one of my cards it said I had to find temperatures lower than -8. The numbers I uncovered were -6 and -7 so I thought I had won, and so did the woman in the shop. But when she scanned the card the machine said I hadn't.I phoned Camelot and they fobbed me off with some story that -6 is higher - not lower - than -8 but I'm not having it. I think Camelot are giving people the wrong impression - the card doesn't say to look for a colder or warmer temperature, it says to look for a higher or lower number. Six is a lower number than 8. Imagine how many people have been misled.
And this is in the United Kingdom? God bless the Queen.
Joss was first. I don't mean that to sound territorial. She just was. She was (obviously), the first child in our little family. But she is also the first grandchild. And thus spoiled.
Now, some of us gotta share our love. And that's quite all right and fits in neatly with our Christianity.
We are eagerly awaiting (on pins and needles... so to say) the birth of li'l Chloe, Joss's first cousin (although she's met and made many friends already who we expect to remain life-long friends and fam).
Look forward to sharing pix (esp if we can get some of the two of 'em together. Double your pleasure with Doublemint Dyes) and news.
Update!: 7 lbs., 5 ozs. Got the call at 9:55 pm, CST. They're in north Jersey. Poor daddy sounded tired. I know for sure that mama was too. Hopefully, we can post something up by the weekend. I'm so excited!
One of the best places to get sports news is The Onion. It's one of the fresher spots in that periodical nowadays, and actually takes the issue of sports seriously, while still skewering modern American culture and being genuinely funny. Case in point:
U.S. Military Wasting All Its Victories On Notre Dame
"It's important to realize that our young men have been fighting pitched battles against religious fanatics who have been brainwashed into a culture that seeks to destroy all other ways of life," Air Force head coach Troy Calhoun said Monday. "That's just the way Notre Dame football is, the way it's always been. You can't reason with people like that. You destroy them as completely, remorselessly, and quickly as you can."
In other football-related news, the Bears came from behind yesterday to beat the Broncos in overtime. So, with a win over the Giants next weekend, we're still [hardly] in the playoff picture.
And, finally, in my fantasy football leagues (where I merely pretend to do something football-related), I will not, repeat, will not cease to suck. Adrian Peterson, I could've used another miracle.
Y'know, it's impossible to live on a budget when you don't have any idea of how much money you're going to take home in a given week.
I'm really upset (still) about my last job. I felt I was mislead and that my loyalty was not returned. Loyalty in the workforce (unless you work for the New England Patriots) not only seems to be ignored, but punished as well. Another family member was recently laid off as his company is in the process of cutting corners (something my employer is always doing), even though he turned down a better job offer (much closer to home, better salary) to remain with that place. It was a tough day before he found out that the other offer was still waiting for him. I turned down offers (directly and indirectly), believing that something bigger was waiting for me at my last place. It wasn't. I was and am hurt. I hope that my gravy train will be coming in soon though.
One positive effect is that I've had more time to spend with Joss (more on that later) and the Mrs. Both of whom I am crazy about. The commute was never nice to me and now I usually get to see them a bit more before and definitely after work (often Joss would be in bed or preparing for bed when I got home). Some days I spend the whole day with them.
It would not surprise that the biggest bureaucracy in the world would try some tricks that Wal-Mart has perfected (even if Wal-Mart didn't originate them): After 2,600 member of Minnesota's National Guard completed the longest deployment served by any ground combat unit - 22 months, including an extension for the summer "surge" - nearly half of them found they didn't qualify for... [the GI Bill. The Bill] provides [federal education] benefits to any serviceperson on active duty for 730 days, but according to numerous local news accounts in October, the written orders for 1,162 guard members specified a tour lasting only 729.
editor's note: The local alt-weekly The Reader is a great read. If I manage to consume no other literary piece during the week, you can always bet that I've all but devoured this little bag of goodies by early Saturday. This little tidbit (and hopefully some other future filler) was lifted from a section tucked away in their classifieds called News of the Weird, or something like that. I believe an earlier entry was also taken from there. So, hopefully I can do this on a weekly basis, if nothing else.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The end of a week and a half with my family. We were looking forward to these days for a good while. Because our baby is sooooo cute.
I've not written about this before because I did not want to add to the noise. But I believe that this nation is not being very reflective of its identity and problematic racial relations.
Let's get one thing straight. The US has - for hundreds of years, much longer than it's been an independent nation - profited extensively from racist (as well as classist, no doubt, but we'll focus on race in particular here) strategies, deployments, ways of life and economies. The classically Anglo supra-culture of the US has been towering and lording over the Others in order to be towers and lords, whether that Others may be defined in ethnic terms (as in non-Anglo Europeans) or strictly racial terms (the dark-skinned people of Asia, Africa and the Americas). Slavery and subjugation for advantages is not, of course, relegated to the White man. It's a part of human nature, and not just limited to the English or Western European culture.
Alas, but, Western European culture (and in no small part thanks to the writings of Machiavelli) is best at subjugation for profit and has had the ownership of much of the suffering in the world for these last several hundred years. Although one may look at the present carnage of, say, a Rwanda or a Liberia or an Afghanistan or a Darfur and exclaim that that situation is Black-on-Black violence, the troubling account for us White people is that we have 1) exasperated any ethnic or tribal battles by raping the country for valuable 'goods' and leaving the natives in more desperate need than before we arrived, 2) expanded any tribal warfare by lending, buying, selling war machines to totalitarian warmongers (Lords of War) and 3) created ethnic and tribal warfare that was never there in the first place in order to create an environment suitable for the colonists raping, pillaging and subjugating of the country.
So, this series that I hope to do is written partly out of frustration with how Whites are now backlashing against the so-called "Politically Correct climate" of our nation that won't - seemingly - allow them to speak about race in any meaningful or engaging way (because most of us have not walked a mile in a non-White's person's shoes) or to even ask the questions that tug at their hearts, that may be considered rude, arrogant or ignorant but indeed need to be brought to the light in order that this country can begin to heal itself.
There won't be enough time to deal with anything more than an iceberg, but here are some stories that I'd love to at least touch on:
The painfully slow increase in minority (and female) headship in pro sports, an arena dominated by multi-millionaire Blacks and Latinos, yet almost exclusively run by multi-billionaire white males, with fewer people-of-color the higher you go. And what is more damaging (hey, I'm not crying over millionaires here) is how this affects the mindset of lower-class African American males.
In other news, the baby is teething. Has been for several days. And nights. Nobody's sleeping. And her first go at the Baby Orajel didn't go so well. Update: Her second didn't take didn't go much better, if at all.
