Mon Dieu!

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death

Just the other day I decided to take the scenic route home in the evening. Rather than zipping home on the highway, I meandered along the back country roads, mooed at some cows, and generally enjoyed the breeze and the sway of the trees. The journey was lovely and relaxing but for one blemish--the endless stream of churches. There are loads of them along the way, but one church message board particularly caught my eye; it mentioned the usual schedule for Sunday service, but added this vapid pearl of pseudo-wisdom, "BOWED KNEES SAVE FAMILIES". Firstly, it is difficult to take anything seriously that has been written to rhyme. Secondly: Huh? Are they really trying to say that the way to help mankind--to save the world--to ease suffering is to talk to their invisible mutual friend? It's such a ridiculously trite sentiment that I can't understand how anyone could express it without being nauseated. This particular church is essentially saying, "Don't worry about volunteering or service work. Just pray to G-d to make it all better. Think happy thoughts and your work is done here". It is absolutely appalling for anyone who sees a point to the conservation of humanity to say that they're just going to sit on their asses and hope things get better. They're going to to feel self-righteous for having wished for sunshine and daisies? That's their strategy?

On a more lighthearted note:

Prescience?

I was flipping through a book of New Yorker comics through the ages when this one caught my eye:
It was captioned "Fundamentally, the ship was sound." It was published in 1932.

Can't Buy Me Love pt. 1

D'y'know what's funny? There are books being sold on the topic of decommodification. I don't know if that makes me happy for its sheer ridiculousness or sad like when I see stagnant, established "Anarchist symbols". Oxymorons and contradictions have a beautiful unity, perfect irony, and somehow a structural integrity. There is a tension that cannot be resolved, and it always on the brink of collapse, yet is too lusciously balanced to fall. That's not what I want to talk about, though. Decommodifying. The tragedy of the commons. I find it terrifying that in modern society, if things aren't assigned some sort of economic value and purchased by someone, we either are or think we are incapable of taking care of them or valuing them. Non-monetary value can be expressed in economic terms, which is a step forward of sorts (looking beyond GDP), but it still feels horribly wrong. It's mercenary and cynical. Yes, that's why I don't like it. It's like characterizing a throbbing, emotional, human relationship in terms of gains and losses--costs and benefits. It makes it easier to imagine it ethical to exchange goods and services for intangibles like love, trust, and respect. We already make some of these trades, but unwittingly, and in a sense: innocently.

Decommodify: to take the trade and barter out of basic human essentials and return common resources and intangible human assets to their natural--noncommercial--state. In other words: stop selling things like environmental quality, health, happiness, education etc. In a technical and cold, calculating sense, one most certainly may put a price on these things, but it is deeply unethical and should be stopped.


More on this later.

Letter to the Editor

Yesterday I was reading the newspaper and getting angry as usual, but for some reason, a letter to the editor motivated me into action: I'm writing a response.

Here is the ridiculous letter:

Minority Rule

Here we go again. The UNC-CH library is not putting up a Christmas tree for fear of someone being "offended." Are we offended when someone wears a yarmulke? Are we offended when someone wears a turban? Are we offended when someone wears an abaya? Are we offended when we hear someone say, "Happy Hanukkah"? Do we insist that Muslims not fast during Ramadan? Of course, we don't. These are all public displays of religious beliefs. Christians wear no special clothing or badges to identify themselves, and the only public display of their religion is twice a year: Easter and Christmas.
Over 80 percent of Americans "profess" to be Christians. ARe we going to allow the minority to rule the majority? Emblazoned on office buildings in Washington and in courthouses throughout the nation are the words "In God We Trust." How can we continue to be a strong nation if we don't stand up for our beliefs? When we allow this to happen, we become weak and trampled upon.
What's next? Thank God, Congress still opens its session with a prayer.
God bless America and Merry Christmas.
-Richard Pinkard
Apex

My first response, unfortunately, was a blind "Whathakljhiosjhti;hioh o e", but I've recovered. Here's my draft in response:

Richard Pinkard's Dec. 13^th Letter, “Minority rule”, complaining of the lack of representation of Christianity at UNC-CH, namely a Christmas tree, is absolutely ludicrous. Mr. Pinkard sets up several remarkably misleading parallels regarding the expression of faith in public—making the specious claim that personal/individual expressions like yarmulkes, turbans, and hijabs are essentially the same as that of a public university displaying a Christmas tree. It is astounding that Mr. Pinkard cannot see the difference between a state school specifically endorsing a particular religion and an individual expressing his/her faith. Further, he portrays Christians as a persecuted class by failing to mention that there are no regulations preventing Christians from wearing crucifixes, affixing the Ichthys to their cars, and putting up their own Christmas trees. There is a strange argument implicit in his insistence that Christians are being prevented from showing their beliefs publicly: one's faith is somehow being disrespected if it is not at center stage in the public square.

On top of his strange logic regarding the expression of faith, Mr. Pinkard entirely disregards the separation of church and state by using the percentage of the population who are Christian to justify his outrage. Not only is it irrelevant, but his apocryphal statistics are incorrect: according to the CIA World Factbook, only 68.5%, not the 80% he claims, of Americans are Christian (Protestant, Roman Catholic, Mormon, and “Other Christian”).

-Jessie

Apex

There are so many things wrong with his thinking that I couldn't possibly fit them into one letter, but I certainly tried to hit the worst offenses. I didn't even try to touch the congressional prayer issue...

Thoughts?

American Legion

OK. Guess where I was on September 11th this year, (which also happens to be patriot day). No, I wasn't out burning flags---I spent the evening at a Raleigh post of the American Legion. Their strange little shack is about the scariest place you can imagine: the sign is shaped not unlike the blade of a circular saw, the the whole place looks like it was very... hill-billy-home-made, and the sagging roof had a couple of beer cans perched on top. After I drove up the winding gravel drive, I parked and meandered over to the entrance. I was greeted by Ms. Honeycutt, a nice little old lady, who was quite a contrast to the terrifying man standing behind her: he was about 6 feet tall, wearing a leather vest, and he had the most sunken, hollow eyes I've ever had the misfortune to stare into. I said, "Good evening sir", but he just looked at me blankly. He had the aura of a person whose life hasn't gone quite the way they hoped it would. After I darted past them to grab my name-tag, I hurried away to find a friendlier face. Who should I see but Jo! She had brought her sister along and they were both wearing the dreaded Girls' State polos.

I suppose I ought to back up: the entire reason for my presence at this terrifying hide-out was to (a.) tell the Legionnaires how much I loved Girls' State, and (b.) thank them ever s0 much for sending me. A member of the American Legion Auxiliary, or as I like to call it, "The Crazy Conservative Confederation", called me and asked me straight up, "What was you favorite part of Girls' State?" Initially I assumed that it was an idle question so I gave a saccharine statement about how much I loved the program and how wonderful it was to meet new people. Then she informed that I would be talking about it in a speech for the American Legion. Yeah. Ugh. I quickly had an about-face and told her I was fascinated by learning about lobbying.

I know I could have told her that I was going to be out of town, but I didn't, and my reasons were not entirely noble: I had visited the creepy Legion post once before, and I wanted to get a photo of it. Sadly, the photos were accidentally deleted... Also, this place is so far out in the boonies that GoogleMaps hasn't got a street view for it!

Anyway: Point is that I went, and it was unpleasant. They crowded about 25 of us over on the far side for the benefit of perhaps 3 old Legionnaires. Several blowhards stood at the front of the admittedly small room and used a microphone--it was uncalled for. They could have whispered and we would have heard them just fine. After they had rambled on for a bit, we recited some patriotic tripe and prayed several times. Yes--praying once was not enough for God to hear us. Maybe the call was dropped. If so, they should have their prayer-provider looked into. After sitting quietly for what seemed like an eternity, the march of falsely enthusiastic participants began. Each girl walked up the microphone and desperately tried to think of something to say. Some seemed to have genuinely enjoyed it; in fact, one girl went on for about 5 minutes about how much it had increased her patriotism and how much more she loves Murkuh now. Oy.

When I got up to the microphone, I was sorely tempted to use it as an opportunity to give them all a piece of my mind. I wanted to share with them my distaste for extreme patriotism. I wanted to make them see how ridiculous the whole idea is. I didn't. I said something about how I'd enjoyed every aspect of the program and thanked them for giving me the opportunity. They all smiled like self-satisfied toads and leaned back in their chairs basking in the glow of being appreciated by a whole bunch of young people. Perhaps that's a bit harsh... less like toads... more like fat cats. I can't really badmouth them because as I left, they gave me a doughnut.

mmm...tasty...

What can you say?

'Man shot churchgoers over liberal views'

American society is very very sick.

• In 2006, about 68% of all murders, 42% of all robberies, and 22% of all aggravated assaults that were reported to the police were committed with a firearm.
• in 2001 about 39% of the deaths that resulted from firearm injuries were homicides, 57% were suicides, 3% were unintentional, and 1% were of undetermined intent.
• On the wikipedia List of School-Related Attacks, 102 occurred in the United States, and only 44 in the rest of the entire world. It even includes actions by the Viet Cong. The US is STILL more violent.
  

National Teapot Show VII

On an otherwise mundane Saturday, I found myself driving steadily into an ever thickening horizon of green-- Middle of Nowhere, N.C.  This was not a peaceful weekend drive reminiscent of the old days when people went for a drive solely for the joy of it; I was on a mission.  A strange mission perhaps, but it was my intention to see as many teapots as is humanly possible.

Yes, I was heading out to the 7th National Teapot Show, a triennial celebration of teapots held at Cedar Creek Gallery  in Creedmoor.  I went to the show in the hopes of seeing some teapots, but what I found were TEAPOTS!  which are entirely different animals.

Some were as small as my little finger, and others could have, with little difficultly, been mistaken for mid-sized mountains.  There were teapots made out of stone, wood, metal, glass, porcelain, and anything else these artists could get their hands on.  

Styles ranged from whimsical to disturbing to elegant and back to whimsical again.  As brilliant as it is to see them in person, you can still see this year's teapots here.  

So many gorgeous teapots...  I am filled with teapot lust.  

Oh!  On another note: I've started a class at Artspace in sculpting the human form in terracotta!  It is taught by Paris Alexander who also taught a fantastic figure drawing class.  He is absolutely fantastic, and lots of his work is on display in his studio area in artspace (on the first floor and to the right).  Soooo good!  

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!

Why aren't the munchkins dancing in the streets?  That's what I want to know.  

Jesse Helms died on July 4th, and his obituary in the Raleigh News & Observer (N&O) had this to say:

'he redefined politics in North Carolina, reinvigorated U.S. conservatism'

'Dole remembers Helms as genteel, generous'

'Defiant Helms drove South's GOP'

Allow me to say: WHAT!?  We're being flattering about a man who was an unrepentant bigot (racist, sexist, homophobic) to the last!?  We're pretending that this bastard was a good guy!?  

Reasons to be glad he's dead:

• He sang the pro-slavery song 'Dixie' at Carol Moseley-Braun (1st & only black woman in the U.S. Senate)
• Opposed AIDS funding because he believed that victims had contracted it because of their "deliberate, disgusting, revolting conduct" (because they were gay)
• He referred to homosexuals as "weak, morally sick wretches"
• He supported Augusto Pinochet
• He routinely aired racially divisive campaign ads
• He called the 1964 Civil Rights Act "the single most dangerous piece of legislation ever introduced in the congress"
• He took the 'fun' out of 'fundamentalist'
• He didn't even have the courtesy to pretend he wasn't a bigot''

Sen. Elizabeth Dole carefully skirted the issue of what he actually stood for by talking about how nice and polite he was.  Surprise, surprise: he was pleasant to a white, southern, christian woman.  

What was actually surprising was in Rob Christensen's article:

...Helms was one of the key figures in the modern conservative movement-- trying to roll back the Democratic New Deals and Great Societies, seeking to stiffen the country's spine against communism, and trying to return American life to the 1950s in terms of race, gender and sexual orientation. 

We all know that the right-wingers tend to be homophobic, but I think most of them would object to this characterization with regards to their ideas about race and gender...  hmmm...

Anyway, here's a real obituary.

P.S. Happy Birthday President Bush.  

I thought I didn't care, but--

It's the Fourth of July.
It's raining.
Ambulance sirens are screaming through the deep rumblings of the thunder.

phwoarr---I need a cup of tea.

I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-C-E, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEAN?

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.

~John Adams

Ah, poor John Adams... so close to prescience... two days, in fact. I suppose that's closer than most of us will ever get.

On the wikipedia page, it says that Independence day in America is celebrated with 'Fireworks, Family Reunions, Concerts, Barbeques, Picnics, Parades, and Baseball Games'. I've done none of these things this year.

This is what our celebrations looked like:

• Sit out on the porch and drink wine [I was sadly excluded from the wine part]
  
• Have some blue cheese with a baguette
• Read magazines like 'The New Republic' and 'The Economist'
• Decide that North Carolina is too hot, and go indoors
• Refill wine glasses
  
• Watch old (1974) Doctor Who episodes as a family
• Go back to work on a new painting.
  

I think my family might fail at Fourth of July. Perhaps we can redeem ourselves with some candles... they're sort of like fireworks.... except that they're stationary. Oh well. At least we're free to celebrate it our own way!

I'm Proud to be an American (MURKUN!!)

**This is an excerpt from a 'letter' home during my week at hyper-patriotic boot camp (Tar Heel Girls' State) taken from the evening of Flag Day**


Flag Day was horrible.

We had to march out in complete silence, and align in reverent rows facing the flag while girls wearing white dresses, who in a militaristic fashion, marched in actually barking "left... left... left, right, left". We stood at attention in the sweltering heat and had to listen to an awful poem dedicated to the flag.

Most patriotic poetry is unpleasant to say the least, but this particular one crossed too many lines for my liking. Perhaps it was too honest about us. Stepping back from that, in the first place, I'm uncomfortable with the idea of pledging my allegiance to a FLAG rather than to a COUNTRY. I'm supposed to be willing to die for a couple scraps of colored cloth? If I'm going to be loyal to anything it would have to be the the people of my country--living, breathing, humans. Why should I pledge myself to an abstract idea that has little to do with me or anything that I care about. It's too easy for a symbol to be co-opted and used to mean something that it shouldn't; it is too divorced from the reality of the United States which is multifaceted and simultaneously beautiful and horrifying.

The pledge confuses me on another count: the frequency. Every day? Really? Is that necessary? Are we trying to say that our allegiance has to be renewed daily or it goes sour? Does loyalty have such an early expiration date as that? It isn't a particularly meaningful sort of allegiance/loyalty if it only lasts for a day. Ah well. Anyway, the poem made me feel like we were the evil empire (or the Alliance from Firefly & Serenity). There was one line about the flag feeling proud when mothers clutch it and weep for their lost sons, which made me feel physically sick. We're proud of causing death?! I often find patriotic rhetoric a bit silly, but that really disgusted me. By the end of the ceremony, when they were retiring the flag, I couldn't help but think to myself "Take it down. Get it out of my sight." I don't like feeling that way, but I really, really hated the sight of it.

Here's the horror itself:

I am the Flag
Howard Schnauber

---

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings. <-- NOT ANYMORE WE DON'T
I stand watch in America's halls of justice. <-- AND OVERFLOWING PRISONS
I fly majestically over institutions of learning. <-- AND CHURCHES SEEKING TO RETURN TO THE DARK AGES
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up ... and see me.


I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice. <-- DO WE? DO WE REALLY? AND HOW EXACTLY HAVE WE SHOWN THAT LATELY?
I stand for freedom. <-- WHEN I THINK OF AMERICA I THINK OF DETAINEE PRISONS AND THE DEFENSE OF MARRIAGE ACT
I am confident.
I am arrogant. <--- OH YEAH.. THAT'S JUST WHAT WE NEED.
I am proud. <-- OF WHAT EXACTLY?

When I am flown with my fellow banners,
my head is a little higher,
my colors a little truer. <-- OH LOVELY... SO WE THINK WE'RE BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE?

I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world. <-- YEAH... THAT'S NOT NECESSARILY GOOD...
I am worshipped -- I am saluted. <-- CREEPY!
I am loved -- I am revered.
I am respected -- and I am feared. <-- THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME FEEL TOO PROUD

I have fought in every battle of every war <--- UM. NO. WHAT?
for more then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge,
Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill,
the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest,
Anzio, Rome, and the beaches of Normandy.
Guam, Okinawa, Korea and
KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me. <--- NOT IN A POSITIVE WAY THOUGH
I was there.

I led my troops.
I was dirty, battleworn and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me
And I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled
on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible. <-- MWAHAHAHA WE WILL MULTIPLY AND COVER THE EARTH!!!!

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn
and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it's by those whom I've served in battle -- it hurts. <-- I THOUGHT YOU LIKED FREEDOM!? WHAT ABOUT FREEDOM OF SPEECH?
But I shall overcome -- for I am strong. <--- NO YOU WON'T. YOU'RE JUST A SYMBOL!! SHUT UP!

I have slipped the bonds of Earth
and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space
from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness
to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips and used as bandages
for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud. <-- AGAIN. SICKENING. I SEE NOTHING IN THIS STANZA TO BE PROUD OF.

My name is 'Old Glory'!
Long may I wave
o'er the land of the free
and the home of the brave.

Another odd thing is that during the sessions in the chapel where we link arms, sway, and sing 'God Bless the USA', devout atheist though I am, I involuntarily look towards the stained glass window at the pinnacle of the chapel and think "Please forgive me". I'm not sure who I'm talking to. Perhaps my parents. Perhaps my new country if I emigrate. Perhaps myself. At any rate, it makes me feel less horrible about participating in the cult-like behavior--It reminds me that I don't actually believe the bullshit that's coming out of my mouth.

Disillusioned with Disillusionment

A couple days ago, I was enjoying an indulgent lunch at the Bear Rock Cafe when it occurred to me that I had a beverage packaged in a glass bottle. I got up and upon being unable to locate a recycling bin, I queried the cashiers,

"Excuse me, do you have recycling facilities?"

"Uh... no.... sorry..."

"Do you have a suggestion box?"

"Uh... no... YES- yes we do. Right over there -->"

I must say that it was a pathetic excuse for a suggestion box and only had space for postal information and one's favorite sandwich. I ended up carrying the bottles home. Normally, I don't really think about recycling while I'm at restaurants- not even fast food joints, but the Bear Rock Cafe sells almost all of it's beverages in glass or plastic bottles. It seems like a logical step to get recycling facilities. Most people don't really doubt the value of recycling these days, so why wouldn't this have come up previously? M'Colleague Kat and I have both e-mailed the all powerful BRC and received the same form letter:

Thank you for taking the time to email us your feedback. We agree that it is important to recycle in our restaurants. I have forwarded your comments to our Vice President of Operations and we will work on this matter. Please accept the attached coupon and enjoy your next sandwich or salad on us. Thank you for your patronage. I hope you will visit again soon.
*Best regards,* *Deneen* **

*Deneen Nethercutt*
*Vice President of Marketing*
*Bear Rock Services, Inc.*

Hardly a satisfactory response. Worse than that is the unsettling truth that not for one second did I expect success from this venture. I assumed that my note would go unnoticed. This is a microcosm of a much larger issue. Things that should be shocking or outraging have become ho-hum and commonplace. Our nation has been lied to? Big Whoop. Since childhood, I have been taught that politicians lie and that they never to what they promise they will. We have made the mistake of becoming pessimistic realists with every ounce of idealism squeezed out. We have adapted and learned to accept and function in a world where our efforts are completely worthless.