The feeling decisive I am transposed growing fragrant flagrantly desired. I can stop this tropical drop kick sudden misalignment sudden non-attachment. I am not ok with this this is too much for me. I rise with the sun and set with the waves.
Ironing out the kink in my armor I don, gray, move forward into oblivion. I am nothing if not superlative. Absolute. Fired. You are absolutely nothing to me and this meaninglessness is all-encompassing.
There was a brief sting and then it was me. And then you. And I was standing there, regarding with frenzied fury. This is no accident of birth this is no mismatched apprentice this is no apprehension to bear another fight and flight and fog and burn and crash and be and flag.
When I resounded, I sounded loudly. I grew weary. I was at my worst/best when we met – and I return to that now. I move outward, bleakly. The edges of this apocalypse are thinly-formed. A valor that completes itself. An armament. A breeze.
You soldiered forth, still valorous dolorous. We shared walks, talks, mushrooming time in the wake of / midst of / dream of eternity. There is nothing I wouldn’t give to you, except my total heart. There is nothing you couldn’t take from me – aside from everything.
We made no plans & all plans. Meaning you filled in the gaps. Nicely. Like sand through rocks. Like water through sand. And I soaked it in. Not complaining over the absence of commitment or statement of purpose.
I brought you in. Fed you. Warmed you by my fire. Kept you loved you fed you some more. Soothed you and never demanded a damn thing of you.
And so I was NOT biding my time but enjoying each moment as it happened. Tricky, that – but suddenly easy. Allowed myself to be nourished by ENOUGH – not too much. Felt not a moment of anger or jealousy. Truly wanted happiness – in whatever form it was meant to take for you. Yours and mine, yet mine seemed at the same time deferred and requited. Persistent bliss – Chronic. This is/was no ordinary thing. Emotions run thick & I am in the thick of it.
My life – so wonderful you began to pick it apart. The people I admired. The music I was inspired by. The places I enjoyed. All fell under the purview of your delighted disgust. You became fairly wretched, actually…and I didn’t realize it until being pushed to this distance.
Finally, you took back the one thing of value you gave me to keep. Your data. Your robotic heart. And I lost the one thing I kept that you gave. The yo-yo. My joyful heart.
Sometimes, that is the way it works. I”m not ashamed of the love I felt for you – unbounded and immense – unmeasurable and intense. It is who I am. Onward and upward. And you soaked it in like water through sand.
A lot of discussions about rape culture and consent have been happening lately. This story, though, was I think the first I’d read written intimately from the honest (though not very redeeming) male perspective about the subtle nature of consent. It made me think about situations I’ve been in, and how appreciative I’ve been about the boys/men in my life who understood boundaries, however confusing and passively enforced on my part…but also how overly-forgiving I have been about some men who have not been so understanding. How easy it is to take the blame. And how fucked up it is that I walk around feeling appreciative of people for NOT violating the most basic boundaries, rather than feeling absolutely freaking outraged about those who have.
I want to be clear, this is not regarding any experience I have had in my recent past. Lest anyone think of accusing anyone (or themselves) of wrongdoing. I’m pretty sure those who have overstepped are well aware of who they are, even if they refuse to admit it to me. BUT…to be fair (probably more fair than I need to be, but considering I am the mother of two young boys – probably necessarily fair, if only as a cautionary tale) what occurred to me today is that our culture sends so many messages to men and boys that tell them silence is consent, as a parent it is imperative to actively counteract that culture. NO MEANS NO, for sure. But so does “I don’t think so,” so does shying away, and so does silence.
This is why I’m so thankful for a post that I read on the blog Silence is not Consent about talking to children about consent. This morning, after I read that short story, the kids and I had a good discussion about consent. We talked about consent not being limited to the first time you have sex with someone; that it’s something that needs to be renewed before (sometimes even during (thanks for that reminder, K.)) each encounter. We talked about the fact that long term relationships, including marriage, are not implied consent. We talked about how “talking someone into” sex is not consent. We talked about safe words. We talked about enthusiastic yes(!) And I was reminded by a friend later in the day that most of us can perceive when someone is not enjoying him or herself. Sex should never be a compromise. It should never be “giving in.” It really should be something fun and eagerly approved of by all participating parties for the duration of the act.
My children responded: Mom. We are the children of a feminist single mother – I think we know all of this stuff.
But I didn’t let that stop me. hahaha. Because I would really hate to be the feminist single mother of a son who managed to grow up without a VERY CLEAR understanding of consent. So we also talked about validating the experiences of those who approach us to communicate difficult feelings about sexual encounters with anyone, including ourselves…and seeking to heal, rather than defend. In my opinion (and this might be difficult for others who have had any experience on the spectrum of what I’ll call sexually questionable behaviors) it’s entirely possible for someone to inadvertently violate the rules of consent. Or at least ignorantly. We live in a culture that so frequently projects fucked up ideas of what is and is not healthy communication with regard to sexuality, and within which so little is offered in the way of useful sex education, is it a wonder that we are confused about healthy boundaries? As difficult as it is to do so, I find myself empathizing for men who have crossed a line, almost as much as I empathize for women who aren’t experienced enough to understand that not saying no is not the equivalent of saying yes, and therefore blame themselves for whatever emotional damage they incur from not only the non-consensual experience, but the ensuing self-doubt that often occurs.
In short, as the mother of boys, it is MY responsibility to continue to make sure all of this is absolutely crystal clear. It starts with me. And that responsibility is where I start to heal.
So, it’s to the point where I can’t help but count down until employment begins. One week. One short week. One week made shorter by all of the things I want to get done to prepare for no more long and languid days filled with whatever I want to fill them with.
I am preparing by celebrating as well as working. Beginning last weekend. Actually, beginning during the entirety of my little break from employment. Hopefully continuing beyond employment. Hopefully I have trained myself well enough to cultivate languidness in my day-to-day life, job or no job.
I’ve met some pretty nice people during my little vacation. A is one of them. Always game for a new adventure, A enthusiastically endorsed my idea of spending an entire day in bars, drinking.
Getting my drank on!
I’m not much of a drinker normally, but it seemed like a fun, unemploymenty kind of thing to do. Though I invited other friends to join me along the way, I was glad to have a constant companion along for the ride. It was EXACTLY the kind of “wacky sidekick” adventure I’ve always enjoyed.
So, after a light breakfast (of orange juice, coffee…
Vitamin C
and Wendell Berry)
“a kind of idiocy”
We started out at the Poodle Dog Lounge, which is a dive bar about a 10 minute walk from my house. I got there first, and sat at the bar with a few characters who seemed like regulars. A arrived about 15 minutes after me. One beer down. We played some pool, fed the overpriced jukebox some dollar bills – I played Def Leppard, Gnarls Barkley…and my theme song:
Pretty much got my ass kicked at pool, just like I figured I would.
The Wisdom of Bathroom Graffiti
But we had fun, A bought me several beers, and we were pleasantly buzzed when we headed north to The Pour House, where I enjoyed some pear cider (it was freaking delicious!)
Pear Cider
and a veggie burger and tots.
Veggie Burger and Tots
A taught me how to play cornhole, and P & S showed up to play with us for a bit before they headed out to psych fest, leaving me to once again lose to A at more bar games before we traipsed off to our next stop.
Mostly because, as mentioned above, I don’t drink all that much. However, the daytime crowd at Lala’s might make more of a drinker of me. It was a really nice mix of ages and everyone was really pleasant. I fed the jukebox $5 and that bought me about an hour of music (so much better than the jukebox at Poodle Dog) and I promptly loaded the mix with some R&B and jazz, at the request of my companion (and inspiring the friendly fellow bargoers to compliment my skillz, to which I responded “I always wanted to be a dj!”) The mix included this little ditty, which reminds me of karaoke with George.
At lala’s we moved to scotch & soda. I nursed mine VERRRRRRRY slowly, which is probably why I was able to kick A’s ass at foosball, in spite of the fact that I was laughing uncontrollably through much of the game, and mostly just doing the foosball equivalent of button-mashing (namely, spinning the spinners randomly hoping to score.)
No butts
And A and I had a great conversation about life and friendship and parenting. I couldn’t tell if I was being deep, or if I was being “drunk deep.” But either way, it was nice. It’s been nice getting to know new people. I’m really glad I have made an effort to reach out while I’ve had this extra time on my hands.
Electric Banana
A seems to have an appreciation for my cheerful nature. He feels he is often negative…that he often finds things that are wrong with any given situation and feels the need to express dissatisfaction. I don’t really see him that way…he’s never seemed like much of a complainer to me, but I have had people tell me I seem “bubbly” “happy” “cheerful” and “optimistic” before. In some people, it’s even aroused suspicion. Good things seem to happen for me. This whole bout with unemployment, in fact, seems to have been one zany adventure. A coup, I like to call it. Even the weather has been more agreeable than usual while I’ve been out of work. But is it that good things happen to me, or is it that I steadfastly refuse to look at any given situation as the end of the road? It’s possibly a bit of both. I am inordinately lucky, and extraordinarily privileged in comparison to many people.
However, it’s not like bad shit never happens to me. It’s not even that I don’t ever get sad. I’ve been pretty sad about at least one major disappointment in my life the entire time I’ve been unemployed. I’ve probably even dwelt on it. But I’ve learned to disallow sadness and disappointment from clouding all of the wonderful things that are available to me if I just look beyond. It hasn’t been an easy lesson to learn, and sometimes I forget…but I find it easier and easier the more I practice. And anyway, there’s always someone who has much more difficulty in their life than I do, and I feel selfish if I complain too much about my petty difficulties.
At any rate, A finished his last scotch and soda, and we headed to Sarah’s house for cheap margaritas. Nolan told me I wasn’t allowed to watch them make the drinks, because there were “controversial ingredients.” I watched anyway. The first step: frozen lime juice concentrate. I gasped! And Nolan said “That’s not even the controversial part!” (The controversial ingredient was…BEER! Cheap beer!)
“That’s not even the controversial part.”
At Sarah’s, we drank aforementioned margaritas, ate chips and guac. Sarah regaled us with her tales of superherodom. She’s so frikking amazing. I just love all her and all of the ADAPT activists. I always learn tons from conversations with Sarah.
“Free Our People”
Then Susan and Brian joined us, and we got to talk about teaching and the boys and all manner of things.
After a bit we all got a little tired, so A and I parted ways with Sarah, Nolan, Susan & Brian & headed back to Lala’s for our last drink of the night. Well, my last drink.
Last Drinks at Lala’s
A treated me to Funyuns, which seemed an appropriate snack after a day of drinking.
Funyuns (Pork skins and beef jerky for A)
And a beer. And we sat at the bar and talked about what a different crowd it was at that hour than it had been in the afternoon. I left A there around midnight, feeling pleasantly full of good cheer and a well-wasted day as I walked the couple blocks home.
Cool car we admired before I left.
It really was a perfect day…and (another coup!) I didn’t even have a hangover the next morning. I woke up early and played with my chalk pastels,
I was out of coffee this morning, so I had tea for breakfast. Ummmmmmmm.
Tea for breakfast
Let’s just say it’s a good thing I also started the day reading a hippie peace magazine. I had no idea coffee was so much of a factor in the outcome of my day, but around 3, after a pleasant lunch with a friend, I was pretty freaking irritable.
My mood was probably not aided by the fact that late afternoon I went out to the garage to clean it, and decided I need to wait until the next bulk trash collection. Mostly, it’s a bunch of large items (read: mattresses) that need to be tossed, and every empty box for every single thing my housemate owns. I’m not sure why he’s storing all of that, but once we get rid of all of the dead computers, mattresses, and old bicycles, there will plenty of room for those types of eccentricities.
For now, however, the garage is an impenetrable, uncleanable wasteland. Especially in the middle of a day without coffee.
So, I gave in. I thought I had a handle on my caffeine addiction, but clearly it has a hold on me. I took Tao of C out to get coffee and muffins, and we sat out on the front porch, enjoying the lovely spring weather.
Precious Necter
The remains of my butter rum muffin
Shaunee
After that, I painted some patches of color on various walls of my room, to see how the light looked on them. I had two shades of green and a light lavender. I chose the lavender. It’s pretty close to this color (depending on your monitor, I guess):
Light Lavender
The friend who was with me when I chose the sample colors was a bit put off by the prospect of a purple room, and persuaded me in the direction of the green, BUT…it’s such a lovely, subtle color I don’t think I can resist it. I kind of can’t wait to paint, but I have an awful lot of room cleaning/organization to do. And room cleaning/organization is making me feel like I need to do WHOLE HOUSE cleaning/organization.
One thing at a time, though.
I was talking to a friend about Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. I finished reading it yesterday. Several people have told me this is an amazing book. The book itself says that it “changes lives.” Truthfully, it just pissed me off. I mean, it wasn’t a bad story. Clearly, it held my attention for a few hours. I think the end of the book was the most dissatisfying to me. *Spoiler alert* (ish)
So, the book is about this man’s quest for spiritual enlightenment, and towards the end, the man gets married and he and his wife have a child, and he’s still not satisfied with his life, so he just takes off to find what he’s been seeking all of his life, ends up in the mountains somewhere and finally finds it.
Here’s the thing that pisses me off…how is it that anyone can just run off seeking enlightenment and leave the care of a child to their spouse (or even ex-spouse) alone? WTF, man? I mean, maybe they had some sort of agreement or something, but really? That shit doesn’t fly with me. Figure it the fuck out WHILE you are taking care of your responsibilities, please. You are no hero or positive role model or even moderately decent spiritual leader or teacher to me if you can’t at least be there for your family. Sorry. Most of us can’t just hide from our lives while we seek what we already have.
The whole thing made me feel blessed (again) for having somehow ended up in a philosophy class the summer of my 6th grade year. I’m not even sure how I managed to get into the class, but I do remember picking up the Tao Te Ching for the first time, and the fascination I felt for the concepts of Taoism. There were several passages that I copied down and kept with me always, particularly the one about the value of nothing:
Thirty spokes share one hub. Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you will have th use of the cart. Knead clay in order to make a vessel. Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you will have the use of the vessel. Cut out doors and windows in order to make a room. Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you will have the use of the room. Thus what we gain is Something, yet it is by virtue of Nothing that this can be put to use.
Lao Tzu
That passage defines my spirituality. My journey. I like to joke with people that Taoism ruined me for all other philisophical endeavors. Why bother trying to puzzle out the origins or meanings of the universe? It just is. I don’t need to freaking isolate myself on a mountaintop to figure that shit out. In fact, that defeats the whole purpose! Duh. If you aren’t seeking enlightenment in the context of your everyday life, then why fucking bother? What you need to do is create your mountaintop within that context. THEN you’re golden.
That said, the idea of escaping to a mountaintop to be in solitude for awhile is definitely appealing to me.
My other favorite Taoist principle is The Uncarved Block. I like the way Flux (one of my favorite punk bands) interprets it:
Nature knows no divisions / one field runs into the next / Having erected fences / I am imprisoned inside my head.
If you can picture me as a high school student, you should picture me carrying around a huge notebook full of bad poetry with that quote on the cover. Because, pretty much, that’s where my head was at.
The best thing is that both of those quotes have evolving meanings that continuously adapt to the circumstances in my life. I always return to them, and they always direct me towards my center. And soothe.
Here’s another favorite of mine that I go back to all of the time. It’s from Jack Kerouac’s Scripture of the Golden Eternity, which I guess is technically more Buddhist than Taoist, but whatever:
A hummingbird can come into a house and a hawk will not: so rest and be assured. While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by the darkness and find the true light.
It’s all about ebb and flow, baby. Ebb and flow. And being that humans are more than half comprised of water, I don’t have to go to a freaking mountaintop to observe that. I just have to listen to the murmuring brook inside of me and everyone around me.
❤
***
Today, there is some good news:
BREAKING: Today we’re partnering with the Mayors Innovation Project to announce that *nine* US City Mayors have committed to pursue divestment. These cities join Seattle and San Francisco, bringing the number of municipal governments pursuing fossil fuel divestment to eleven.
SHARE to help spread this big news! The battle isn’t over yet, even in these ten cities. But let’s give a big thank you to these mayors for doing the right thing by their cities and the planet. We’ll be watching closely to see where they take it from here.
*UPDATE: We just heard from the Mayor of Santa Fe, and they’re in too!* http://gofossilfree.org/
Crossing fingers on this one:
“Michael Bishop, who is fighting to stop the Canadian tar-sands oil pipeline from crossing his property, asked a U.S. judge to invalidate TransCanada’s permits and order public hearings on Keystone’s route through Texas and Oklahoma. The Corps of Engineers is the federal agency that issues construction permits for projects that impact waterways and wetlands.” http://fuelfix.com/blog/2013/04/25/texas-farmer-sues-us-army-corps-of-engineers-over-keystone/
I like it when the State Department is rebuked:
The EPA has now issued a harsh rebuke to the State Department’s report, calling for a more careful study of the pipeline. The EPA questioned State’s conclusion that Keystone won’t have a significant environmental or climate impact, and slapped the overall document with the shoddy rating of “Environmental Objections Insufficient Information.” https://secure.sierraclub.org/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=10945#.UXnHR9l2NyA.facebook
Yesterday, I submitted my new-hire paperwork for my new job. Today, I had the phone guy come out and install a direct line in my room. He was nice & didn’t charge me, so I took a friend bowling with the money I saved. ❤
I’ve started packing up my room so I can paint, rearrange, and re-organize my space. I’m looking forward to starting with a clean slate in here.
I keep waiting to stress out about money or being unemployed, but I haven’t yet. It’s doubtful I will. My income will be pretty significantly reduced in this new job, but I’ll be working from home, and should be able to save money. Not to mention the fact that I’ll be able to step out during my lunch break and tend to my garden, hang my laundry, sit on the front porch and write in my journal. Take a nap. Do the dishes. You get the picture.
Is this what it’s like to be a grownup? Things just seem to roll off of me. Maybe it’s a result of having been through a hellish year. I was pretty determined that 2013 was NOT going to be another 2012, which was largely spent having the legal battle that had been waiting to happen for the past 10 years or so. I feel like now that’s resolved, I can pretty much take anything on. Even though I technically “lost” (though, really, it’s the kids who lost…but whatever. They are as tough as I am, and will be fine regardless) I am so relieved it is over that nothing can really get to me anymore.
I guess I just feel very fortunate, having been in the presence of so many people who have struggled through and survived far more difficult challenges than I’ve experienced, with far less agency and ability to control the situation. It doesn’t feel right to allow myself to wallow. So I haven’t. And I’m really kind of proud of myself.
After bowling, I went out and got some paint samples for my room, came home and ordered pizza for dinner, watched Mary and Max, which was brilliant, touching, and perhaps a little too sad for the kiddos, but I made them watch it anyway.
Went for a walk.
Tree Sweater
Observed the sky.
Metal Heart
And fallen pomegranates.
pomegranates
And the beautiful full moon was my companion.
Full Moon
(I really need to start bringing my real camera out with me on my walks. These photos suck!)
The most pressing decision I needed to make today was where to go get drunk this Saturday in celebration of the end of my freedom.
Personally? I got nothing to complain about.
***
On the other hand…
Fuck this guy:
Noted Constitutional scholar and mayor Michael R. Bloomberg remarked today that given the constant threat of terrorist attacks, America’s views on privacy and freedom may be a tad outmoded. “The people who are worried about privacy have a legitimate worry,” Bloomberg said, “But we live in a complex world where you’re going to have to have a level of security greater than you did back in the olden days, if you will. And our laws and our interpretation of the Constitution, I think, have to change.” http://gothamist.com/2013/04/23/bloomberg_terrorism_warrants_change.php
And fuck all of these people:
“While nearly 15 million Americans still can’t find jobs due to the 2008 Wall Street-created crash, the top hedge manager, David Tepper, earned $1,057,692 an hour in 2012 – that’s as much as the average American family makes in 21 years!” https://www.adbusters.org/blogs/financial-porno.html
Also, these assholes at the West Fertilizer Plant…who seem to be taking for granted that people will continue to treat the explosion as a natural disaster rather than a criminal act:
The company’s regulatory history going back to 1976 comes to light as investigators seek the cause of last week’s fertilizer explosion that killed at least 14 people.
And mad love for the superheroes striking for fair wages in Chicago:
We, Chicago fast food and retail workers, are striking to demand $15 an hour and the right to form a union without retaliation. Our employers are raking in profits while workers, mostly adults with families, don’t get paid enough to cover basic needs like food, rent, health care and transportation. We are willing to risk our jobs to stand up and say ENOUGH. And we need everyone who supports us to join us. It’s time to give every worker a chance to survive and thrive – and strengthen Chicago’s economy. http://fightfor15.org/en/
As well as students who walked out of Chicago schools today, protesting over testing and school closures, and joining with the striking fast food and retail workers in solidarity:
Dozens of Chicago students boycotted a required standardized test on Wednesday in protest of high stakes testing and the city’s plans to close 54 schools as part of deficit reduction measures. The walkout is the latest in a series of community and union protests of the March 21 announcement. http://tv.msnbc.com/2013/04/24/chicago-students-protest-standardized-tests-school-closings/
I’ve been taking a mini vacation. A small escape. Holed up in my good friend’s house…dogsitting. Watching cable television. Today has been an endless blur of HGTV, 16 Candles, Breakfast Club, and Say Anything. And lots and lots of commercials.
And doing laundry. And writing in my journal. And dancing. Kind of the usual, only in a different place. With cable television.
I’m trying not to keep track of time too closely, but I have about 3 weeks left before I start my job. So. There’s that. It feels like forever, but there are some pretty major projects I want to complete before I have to start devoting 40 hours of my week to a job. I’m so glad I’ve been able to take some time to be by myself and reflect before I start ramping up.
Some habits I think I’ll keep:
Breakfast on the porch with a book
Blogging every night before bed
Walking, walking, walking every day
Chalk pastels on Sundays
Never Quit
Some habits I still need to establish:
Some sort of cleaning schedule
More regular cooking and baking
Business planning (and execution)
Projects I want to complete:
May Day picnic
Room rearrangement/painting
New HVAC unit
Clean out garage/yard sale
(That’s a lot…I’m hoping I don’t have to pare down, but if I do…the garage cleaning can wait.)
I’d also really like to shake the blues that tug away in moments of happiness. Shoo, blues!
Tree Shadows
Did you know there is a vacuum for ear cleaning? The WaxVac? Weird shit, man.
A note to you: You are you. You are not the situation you are temporarily occupying. I love you for you. Not for what I can, nor in spite of what I cannot, “get” from you. ❤ Me
Fresh Bread.
Nothing much happened today, really.
There was breakfast and reading.
Oatmeal and Wendell Berry
And a long walk through the neighborhood, complete with horses at the school.
Horses in the schoolyard, part 1
Horses in the schoolyard, part 2
Vultures in the road
Vultures in the road
Interesting shadows.
Interesting Shadows
And, of course, pomegranates.
Pomegranates
I visited with a Score mentor about Education Never Ends. Business plan is the next step.
Met up with some superheroes at City Hall who were fighting to keep our elected representatives from transferring power over our publicly-owned utility to an unelected independent board…and also feeding people.
Fight the power, after eating a well-balanced and nutritious meal!
And came home to my messy house. I’m thinking I might at least try to clean the kitchen tomorrow. I’m also thinking my room needs some work – particularly if I’m going to be working from it. No reason why I can’t rearrange things so I have a window next to my desk. And a freaking treadmill.
I have a lot on my mind – most of which I probably won’t be able to talk about for a long time. It’s still sorting itself all out up there.
***
Some links for you:
“Exxon is and will always be a bully,” said David Turnbull, Campaigns Director of Oil Change International. “Instead of engaging their critics appropriately, Exxon uses its billions to hire high-priced lawyers to make scary-sounding but unsupported legal claims to suppress criticism. It’s a window into how they have preserved billions in taxpayer handouts for their industry for so many years.”
This is the second time Exxon has bullied this advertisement off the air. In February, Exxon sent a cease-and-desist letter to Comcast only hours before scheduled airings during State of the Union news coverage.
The resolution by the Oglala Sioux Tribe, which is a 1934 Indian Reorganization Act government, explicitly supports the traditional Black Hills Sioux Nation Treaty Council’s resolution approved unanimously on Feb. 18, 2012. The earlier resolution states: “The Great Sioux Nation hereby directs President Barack Obama and the United States Congress to honor the promises of the United States made through the 1851 and 1868 Fort Laramie treaties by prohibiting the proposed Keystone XL Pipeline and any future projects from entering and destroying our land without our consent.”
The traditional leaders’ resolution, argues against the dilbit pipeline on the grounds of international law, citing the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. http://www.indianz.com/News/2013/009206.asp
Meanwhile, the entire community of Mayflower, AR has been radicalized:
At this early stage of the game, real answers to what’s going on in Mayflower would be hard to come by, even if a mega-corporation wasn’t on the ground in full damage control mode, and local and county officials hadn’t largely ceded jurisdiction to them, with workers and Faulkner County deputies barring the public and media from the scene. The emerging picture, though — a picture that includes wildlife coated in oil, devastated ecosystems in ExxonMobil’s “restricted areas,” residents who say they are sick, and the still-ticking time bomb on the shores of Central Arkansas’s primary water source, Lake Maumelle, where the Pegasus Pipeline comes within 600 feet of the shoreline — might be even uglier than a neighborhood coated in crude. http://www.arktimes.com/arkansas/will-mayflower-ever-be-the-same-after-the-exxon-spill/Content?oid=2797633&showFullText=true
The master plan being: Don’t worry. Don’t waste your time. And I didn’t.
Instead, I made a conscious effort to relax with breakfast and reading on the porch every day.
Today’s reading material
And long walks – taking time to witness the life cycle of a pomegranate
Life Cycle of a Pomegranate, Pt. 1
Life Cycle of a Pomegranate, Pt. 2
And irony.
Sanctuary?
And Texas.
We Don’t Dial 911
And then, just as I was heading out the door for a meeting, the phone rang. It was The Job. I mean, not THE JOB OF A LIFETIME, but the job I’d been hoping for. Because it pays enough, and demands little, and has growth potential…if that’s what I want to do. And, frankly, I’ve had jobtopia. It was quite a coup there for a good run. I feel like I’ve had excellent job karma thus far, and I can find a way to enjoy just about any kind of work.
But it sure is nice to have it. Guaranteed. With a month to relax and REALLY enjoy before the training begins.
*Bliss*
I think I’ve done it. I think I’ve pulled off another coup.
Now I can focus on art, activism, and Education Never Ends. And maybe a nice mama retreat road trip for good measure, while I have the time.
And breathing. And walking. And being mindful of the life cycle of the pomegranate.
And listening to lots and lots of Nick Cave. Particularly Abbatoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus, like these gems:
And now…the news:
Haven’t gathered many links today, but I have some saved up…
Remember the Trans-Pacific Partnership?
The Trans-Pacific Partnership is a circumvention of government. Its draft statement is not a product of the deliberation of U.S. legislators or apparently legislators in other countries, but of the Obama administration and representatives of deliberating nations and roughly 600 corporations. The talks are held multiple times a year and always in secrecy. Helicopters hover overhead while paramilitary teams patrol the conference grounds and a near-total media blackout ensures little is learned by anyone outside. As U.S. Sen. Ron Wyden, the chair of the congressional committee that is supposed to have jurisdiction over the TPP, said in a statement to Congress:
“The majority of Congress is being kept in the dark as to the substance of the TPP negotiations, while representatives of U.S. corporations—like Halliburton, Chevron, PhaRMA, Comcast and the Motion Picture Association of America—are being consulted and made privy to details of the agreement.”
If ratified, what would the agreement do? Much in the favor of big business. Signatory nations, including Australia, Brunei, Chile, Canada, Malaysia, Mexico, New Zealand, Peru, Singapore and Vietnam would agree to give “multinational corporations unprecedented rights to demand taxpayer compensation for policies they think will undermine their expected future profits straight from the treasuries of participating nations,” journalist Nile Bowie explains in CounterPunch. “It would push the agenda of Big PhaRMA in the developing world to impose longer monopoly controls on drugs, drastically limiting access to affordable generic medications that people depend on. The TPP would undermine food safety by limiting labeling and forcing countries like the United States to import food that fails to meet its national safety standards, in addition to banning Buy America or Buy Local preferences.” http://www.truthdig.com/eartotheground/item/the_trans-pacific_partnership_more_power_for_the_global_on_percent_20130405/
TPP has been criticised for being negotiated in secret with no drafts of the text being released to the public. In August last year, the Australian Labor Government and Opposition joined forces in parliament to vote down a motion by two Greens senators to disclose the full draft text.
White people who are confronted with their white privilege and the white supremacist acts they perpetuate have been known to cry, “You’re being a reverse-racist!” That is completely true: people of color have the power and control to create, perpetuate, and maintain brutal systematic reverse-racism that oppresses white people every day. As such, we have created this handy list on how to continue this oppression. http://blackgirldangerous.org/new-blog/2012/11/27/9csnr2cmsrexpoxro1f16csj18zgcy
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