More poison ivy with more of the itch- causing chemical:
Compared to poison ivy grown in usual atmospheric conditions, those exposed
to the extra-high carbon dioxide grew about three times larger — and produced
more allergenic form of urushiol, scientists from Duke and Harvard University
reported.
Thank god I’m a city girl, but all you outdoorsy types might want to invest in the makers of calamine lotion.
Well, I started it as a group blog to discuss political ideas and cultural phenomenon with my favorite smart people. But (and I am singly responsible for this) all politics all the time makes me a dull girl. And I’m a poly- sci student. There is only so much I can take before my little mercurial self runs off to something else. But make no mistake- I always come back to the political.
So I post about shows I’ve been to or art I love or personal stories that don’t seem political at all. I get on kicks where I am railing against the patriarchy or organized religion or even just where the hell my Kleenex box has drifted off to. We have Fursday Fun just to lighten stuff up.
That doesn’t mean that serious pieces won’t get written or don’t have a place here.’They absolutely do. I just can’t be the one doing all the heavy hitting, and since I am doing the primary writing here – I do what I can to avoid either burn out or over-covering things that have been written about ad naseum by other blogs.
I hope that you all are enjoying the stuff that is not pure politics. I hope that you all are still happy to contribute the stuff that you all are good at writing about. I think MDH’s post on the new economic realities was fantastic. Wonder’s take on religion was very heart-felt and it was good to see the progressive side of Christianity represented. DeeK is forever my darling friend for helping me rail against the patriarchy, even though we feel very differently about immigration (or not so different- depending on the day). Phuxy is my brother in arms and bringer of teh funny- even though he is always in the middle of either midterms or finals.
With that I would like to introduce our newest blogger. Little Flower actually gets paid to write (can you imagine) and is damn good with the politics side of politics. I hope you all give him a big warm hello in comments.
The Kid and I had this discussion today:
Kid (after having seen something on TV): Mom, does war bring out the worst in men or does the worst in men bring on war?
Me: It’s a feedback loop kid. That means both are true.
Kid: Huh
Me: War is caused by the worst in men, then in war people act badly, then more war, then more bad behavior and so on.
Kid: So we have to end war to stop the worst in people.
Me: That’s just the beginning.
It’s Memorial day, and we should be honoring soldiers who have died doing what they were told to do- going to war. But I am having a hard time with that today in light of the Haditha story. Don’t get me wrong- I fully understand that the individual soldiers are there because they have to be, that they signed up to do something that I would never do. But I can’t look one-sidedly at the deaths in Iraq or Afghanistan. It isn’t just our soldiers who are dying, but innocent civilians whose towns and homes and lives have been torn apart. We don’t keep track of the numbers of civilians who’ve been killed. It would undermine the public support of the war faster than anything else has, especially because the Iraqi people have never been a focus of the war- it has always been the “insurgents” who were our targets.
Stories like the one at Haditha are not aberrations. In every war there is a Mai Lai or Haditha. They are part of the act of warfare, which is not noble. There are some things worth fighting for, but that doesn’t make war righteous. It makes war a necessary evil. When, as in Iraq, the war is instigated on false premises it is an act devoid of any reason done by the worst of men.
I cannot fault the soldiers for acting on their orders. Chances are they are just poor kids from neighborhoods like mine who were hoping to find a way out of perpetual poverty and a something larger than themselves to believe in. I can fault the worst of men, those in charge who have never been to war themselves, for sending these kids in to do their dirty work.
For those kids who were just looking for a way out, for the families in far away countries where life has been shattered into a thousand pieces and run over with muddy boots and hummers, I wish them peace and to see the best of men.
Morris Louis Nun, 1959 80 3/4 X 106 inches Magna Acrylic on Canvas 
The Kid loves fantasy stuff. He likes to imagine that he is some all powerful warrior with the ability to smite enemies with a single blow. At least once a week, we have a discussion about “what would your superpower be?” He changes his powers almost every week. Sometimes it’s super-strength. Sometimes it’s invisibility. Sometimes, after an especially long day when we are walking home, he wants rocket powered feet to power him up the hill by our house.
I always want the same things- the ability to speak every language and to shoot laser beams out of my left eye when my eyebrow is raised. The Kid thinks it’s boring that I don’t want to be able to fly around the world or stop time, but I think language and lasers are pretty cool.
So kids- what would your superpower be?
So I’m a christian – What does that mean?
Short-short-hand version:
I believe that the creator of the universe came to earth as a human being and lived through all the stuff that any person goes through.
That he suffered an excruciating death in order to set things right between God and humanity.
That he didn’t stay dead, but was brought back to life after he was buried.
That because he did all this, if I follow him, I have access to God, and I am free to live without fear of divine punishment. I have the power to change my own life.
Which does not mean i can just do whatever i want to. I ‘m supposed to follow his lead. It’s part of the deal.
I’m responsible to look out for those who can’t look out for themselves.
If I lack compassion, If I ignore the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, I ignore my God.
I’m not allowed the luxury of passing judgment on others, because I will be held to the same standard I hold up.
I have to forgive. That’s a deal-breaker.
Being a Christian means accepting a handful of paradoxes, believing the unbelievable, aspiring to the apparently impossible.
I follow Someone who made outrageous statements like:
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you.”
“He who seeks to save his own life will lose it, but he who loses his life for my sake will save it.”
“The one who wishes to be the greatest must become the servant of all”
I convict myself with those words, even as I type them. I have so much, and give so little.
I resent judgmental people, and in doing so, i judge them.
I suck at this. I’m in good company, though. One of the apostles wrote: “When I want to do good, I don’t. And when I try not to do wrong, I do it anyway.”
But there is hope in all this impossibility. God already knows everything I’ve done or will do. There is nothing He cannot forgive. I am not defined my my mistakes or my misdeeds.
The smae apostle worte a few sentences later that the Spirit of God empowers us to break out of the old way of doing things.
This is not easy stuff. This is no fairy tale to tuck the little ones into bed by.
What does all this imply?
Next post.
Taken after many drinks while standing on a table- I am not that tall really! By being friends with the band- of course!
I went to fantastic show at the Funhouse last night to see my dear friend, Ruthzilla, and her band ScaryBear play. I am not a huge prog rock fan (it just doesn’t mix with the indy-pop Queen status) but last night might have converted me.
ScaryBear is a tight “frantic instrumental techno thrash” joy to see. They rock the genre like no bodies business without a lot of the cock swagger generally associated with anything that loud. But that wasn’t all the joy I got last night.
Next up was Black Elk– a band from Portland with a lead singer who is a weird cross between Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop if they both were screaming in terror. We were right up by the stage getting pushed by a few hapless moshers. The last time I had been in a mosh pit I was pregnant with the Kid, but I remembered how to use my elbows pretty quick and the bouncer chilled the guys out pretty fast. But the band kicked ass. This is where I get converted to loud, angry Noise Rock.
After their set, Ruth was saying hello to the bassist for Black Elk and introduced me by saying “This is Elizabeth. You guys were so good she even liked you, and she likes Franz Ferdinand!” Turns out that this scrappy bass player also like Franz. I told him how at the last Franz Ferdinand concert the band dedicated a song to “the 2 girls dancing in the balcony” and I was one of those girls. The bass player promised a shout out to me next time. My four and half minutes of rock and roll fame have now been extended by a whole 15 seconds. Whoo hoo!
Also playing were Blood Hag. They throw science fiction books at the crowd which is cool. But by then I could barely hear them because I’d been standing right by the amp during Black Elk and not wearing ear plugs. Everything still sounds muffled today.
The final act was Captured By Robots- one guy and a bunch of robots he built to play music. It was all cover songs last night and that was cute and kitschy for the first 3 songs, but by the time he broke out with Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing, I had enough.
I had meant to take some pictures of Scarybear, but drunkenness interfered. Instead you all get blurry drunken pictures of crowds, robots, and Ruthzilla with what looks like a giant light-filled tumor coming out of her nose. Enjoy!
It’s not just me that is drunk and blurry- The Robots drink PBR!
Ruthzilla, bass player for ScaryBear, looking possessed by the light-filled tumor attached to her head
They were fricken tennis players (a subject close to my heart) and for that they get killed. Yeah- democracy is certainly on the march in Iraq- right out the door.
Argh! This is one of those stories that just makes me mad and sick all at the same time. I am tired, so very tired of people (Christian, Muslim, and Jewish alike) forgetting that the whole “Not taking the Lord’s name in vain” part of the bible means not killing people because you think God says it’s OK. It is not ok to kill someone because they are not doing what you tell them to do.
Ok, so maybe the 10 commandments aren’t exactly in the Qur’an- but this is:
“….anyone who murders any person who had not committed murder or
horrendous crimes, it shall be as if he murdered all the people.”
Wearing shorts, playing sports, buying mayonaise or being a woman who drives are not horrendous crimes.
Wingnuts of any religious flavor need their screws tightened a bit. They seem to have come loose.
I guess it’s faith weekend here at the White Papers, so I am putting my two cents in.
I am a die-hard agnostic. I lean far enough that I should break the last thread and become an atheist, but something prevents me. Maybe it’s my own unwillingness to lose Pascal’s wager. Or maybe that last little thread is what faith is all about- believing in something without any proof of it being true.
Now having faith and being religious are two different things. I am not, nor will I ever be religious. I firmly believe that religion is a creation of man and that like most creations of man- it is fallible. I believe that organized religion is a structure placed over something that humans do naturally just fine. And structures, being prone to hierarchies, are prone to corruption and to the motives of those at the top of the hierarchy that are not to the benefit of those at the bottom. Those with power (just like in all bureaucracies) will do what ever they need to keep power. They never act against their own best interests.
I know that those of you who are religious are wailing “but not all churches or religions are like that” But they all are created by man- and therefore they are all prone to mistakes. I prefer to make those mistakes myself, rather than making a mistake based on what someone else tells me I should do or believe. And I believe in taking responsibility for those mistakes. Because I acknowledge that I am human, and fallible, then my mistakes are not a reflection on God, but evidence of the struggle we all go through in life. By giving my moral responsibility to an organization like a religion, taking responsibility for my own mistakes then becomes a reflection on my religion and therefore- God. But God cannot be fallible, and if I am following the guidelines of a religion that speaks for God, then I cannot acknowledge my own mistakes and take responsibility for them. Little Flower’s post on Ken Lay is the perfect example of this. Someone who is doing bad things but thinks they are ok because God is on his side. My own story is the exact opposite. I did what I thought God wanted me to do and couldn’t figure out why all I wanted to do at the end of the day was drown myself in the bathtub with a bottle of vodka and a straight razor at my side.
About five years ago I went through a massive struggle with depression. I had been doing everything I thought I was supposed to be doing: working hard, devoting myself to my child, taking care of a physically and mentally ill parent, not having any fun because a good mother is supposed to give up herself for her family. You know- no sex, drugs or rock n’ roll. Everything around me was soul-crushingly awful. And I couldn’t understand it. I was being good- why would I be so miserable if I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. Why was God putting so much crap on me?
The problem wasn’t so much that I was suffering because I was doing what God wanted me to do, but I was suffering because I was trying to follow society’s idea of what I was supposed to do. I’m a mother, and a young, single one at that, so I thought I was supposed to sacrifice myself in order to prove that I am a good mother. I remember being so self-righteous. I was not going to be one of those Jerry Springer types who had a new baby-daddy every week or neglected their children while they went out to clubs. The Kid never even stayed with a babysitter till after he was two, and then it was only for an hour every week so I could do volunteer work. But I was miserable and being self-righteous is a lonely thing.
Then everything that I had carefully built up was knocked down in the space of a few months. I lost my job and my home. But by losing those things that I had struggled to keep, I found out that I was trying to hold onto to things that I didn’t really need or want. By becoming what I was most afraid of- I gained the freedom to choose my own path. And I realized that God wasn’t punishing me for some un-clarified sin, but that I had been responsible for my own misery because I wasn’t doing what I needed to do. I got a lot less judgmental about other people and discovered friends who were generous and kind. Without them, the Kid and I never would have made it.
I am now a rock n’ roll mom who cares very little what the tweed-clad parents at the Kid’s school think of me. I am perpetually poor and freely admit it. I have little ambition to ever be wealthy, or even middle class. I have sex – a lot of it, with different people- and I never feel bad about it. I have amazing friends who are all human and fallible and generous and kind. I still have low points, but I know that everyone has low points. When things go badly I look to see what I can do to make a change, and if I can’t change it -I roll with it. When things go well, I toast with a vodka tonic and a bad karaoke version of a They Might Be Giants song. I act ethically because it is the right thing to do, not because it is what I am supposed to do. I’m responsible for my own behavior, and I don’t dream about bathtubs and straight razors anymore.
I’m listening to Travel with Rick Steves on NPR and he’s interviewing Arthur Frommer– the originator of the Europe on $5 a day. It’s no secret that I would sell a kidney or a sliver of my liver to travel. As soon as the Kid heads off to college, I plan on giving up a permanent address to live out of a suitcase. Thanks to Rick Steves packing light tips, I think I can successfully manage that life with little more than my pink convertible carry-on backpack (they don’t make it in pink anymore- haha).
But why do I have a crush on Frommer? Comments made by Frommer in his guide to Branson, Missouri about the racism and lack of minority employees in his travel guide got attention from local newspapers. Because of that, all the places Frommer wrote about now have at least one token African American employee.
Damn- I wish they had a transcript online- I am not good at doing dictation quotes from broadcasts and I am way too lazy to keep re-playing the podcast. Forgive me if quotes are horribly paraphrased.
Frommer said that he believes in pushing to fully implement Jefferson’s idea that “All men are created equal”. He unabashedly declared himself a liberal. And then he went on to talk about how a free society should have no limits on where they are allowed to travel during peacetime- specifically pointing out the ban on travel to Cuba.
It’s really a good interview- go download the podcast .
