PODS -- Personal On Demand Storage. Why is it that people living in gigantic homes still need extra storage? Too much shit from Wal*Mart, no doubt.
April 21, 2004
It was bound to happen ... National Public Radio, which once was listener-sponsored public radio, has caved to the allure of Wal*Mart. I heard the promotion this morning: "News this hour is brought to you by [some sponsor] and your neighborhood Wal*Mart store."
As if there weren't enough, I have another reason to hate Wal*Mart.
However, I have to admit there's one funny piece to its expansion. The ALP blog posted a story of the first Wal*Mart opening in Numazu, Japan. I just can't help but chuckle at the image of all that merchandise on sky-high shelving ... and all the little shoppers down below. Apparently, miniaturization does have its limits.
As if there weren't enough, I have another reason to hate Wal*Mart.
However, I have to admit there's one funny piece to its expansion. The ALP blog posted a story of the first Wal*Mart opening in Numazu, Japan. I just can't help but chuckle at the image of all that merchandise on sky-high shelving ... and all the little shoppers down below. Apparently, miniaturization does have its limits.
Is suicide a behavior unique to the human species? I ask because the other day I was making coffee and noticed ants marching around the sink. There weren't a lot, three or four at most, and they seemed to be absent a particular purpose or destination - and then I noticed one ant that was ass up vertical (or ass down - who can tell?) on the counter next to the dish rack. Really. It was kinda freaky to see him like that.
I began to imagine what led up to his demise. Maybe he was creeping along the window ledge, intensely engaged in the perpetual hunt for food (of which there was none) when, suddenly, faced with the prospect of going home with an empty mandible he gave up hope and took a header, and smacked right into the countertop.
Not that I'm an advocate of ants - or anything with six or more legs. But it does make you wonder, no?
I began to imagine what led up to his demise. Maybe he was creeping along the window ledge, intensely engaged in the perpetual hunt for food (of which there was none) when, suddenly, faced with the prospect of going home with an empty mandible he gave up hope and took a header, and smacked right into the countertop.
Not that I'm an advocate of ants - or anything with six or more legs. But it does make you wonder, no?
April 18, 2004
Okay, I've held my tongue long enough.
Someone needs to explain for me a sound and logical argument supporting same-sex marriage, preferably someone who is unswayed by political affiliation or gender orientation. Thus far, not one of my queer friends has deviated from the assertion that attaining the right to marry their same-sex partner is tantamount to achieving equality with the greater (heterosexual) population. However, it does prove that my friends may as well be sheep.
Advocates of same-sex marriage say that married people have the benefit of certain rights. For instance, married people have the right to survivors' benefits, the right to visit their spouse in a hospital (whatever type that might be included), the right to adopt children, the right to inherit, and the right to make medical decisions. But wait! Where on the marriage certificate are such rights enumerated? Oh, I see ... the rights we speak of were born of policies created by institutions seeking to draw distinctions between those who are married and those who aren't. In other words, policies of societal control.
For those of you who don't remember (or weren't listening) in their Sociology classes, how about a refresher? These United States were founded by a landed gentry that employed marriage as a means of obtaining property, and restricted the institution of marriage to members of their own class (the laws of the time also classified women as property). In fact, women were unable to hold property or cash assets in their own name, were expected to give up their maiden name upon marriage, and still don't earn the standard of wages that men do.
There is no historical proof that the institution of marriage was created to permit an equalization of any sort -- not among the marriage partners, and certainly not between the sexes. Which raises a critical question: So long as inequality remains among the greater heterosexual population, where in the larger picture does the argument of achieving equality for gays and lesbians fit?
The "rights" sought by proponents of same-sex marriage -- inheritance, property, adoption, etc. -- weren't created when marriage was. It seems to me that the better fight would be changing the policies that were created as afterthoughts to marriage, rather than blindly (and sheepishly) endorsing a patently non-egalitarian social control measure.
Someone needs to explain for me a sound and logical argument supporting same-sex marriage, preferably someone who is unswayed by political affiliation or gender orientation. Thus far, not one of my queer friends has deviated from the assertion that attaining the right to marry their same-sex partner is tantamount to achieving equality with the greater (heterosexual) population. However, it does prove that my friends may as well be sheep.
Advocates of same-sex marriage say that married people have the benefit of certain rights. For instance, married people have the right to survivors' benefits, the right to visit their spouse in a hospital (whatever type that might be included), the right to adopt children, the right to inherit, and the right to make medical decisions. But wait! Where on the marriage certificate are such rights enumerated? Oh, I see ... the rights we speak of were born of policies created by institutions seeking to draw distinctions between those who are married and those who aren't. In other words, policies of societal control.
For those of you who don't remember (or weren't listening) in their Sociology classes, how about a refresher? These United States were founded by a landed gentry that employed marriage as a means of obtaining property, and restricted the institution of marriage to members of their own class (the laws of the time also classified women as property). In fact, women were unable to hold property or cash assets in their own name, were expected to give up their maiden name upon marriage, and still don't earn the standard of wages that men do.
There is no historical proof that the institution of marriage was created to permit an equalization of any sort -- not among the marriage partners, and certainly not between the sexes. Which raises a critical question: So long as inequality remains among the greater heterosexual population, where in the larger picture does the argument of achieving equality for gays and lesbians fit?
The "rights" sought by proponents of same-sex marriage -- inheritance, property, adoption, etc. -- weren't created when marriage was. It seems to me that the better fight would be changing the policies that were created as afterthoughts to marriage, rather than blindly (and sheepishly) endorsing a patently non-egalitarian social control measure.
April 17, 2004
Ah, baseball. I love pissing away a day (or evening) at the ballpark, watching the duel between pitcher and hitter, outfielder and baserunner, listening to the crack of the bat.... Frankly, there was a time when I couldn't stand to watch the game, before I played softball and knew the rules and a bit of strategy. Watching a game makes me think of fishing: both require an enormous amount of patience to sit through long periods of relative inactivity, but the payoff is often exhilirating.
One of the best parts of a game is people-watching. There's all kinds at a game, and between innings the camera operators pan the crowd to transmit larger-than-life images via the Diamond Vision screen ... a sort of focused voyuerism. And, in an odd way, it's a time to feel a part of a community, sitting amongst 50,000 people who -- for nine innings, anyway -- all have something in common.
Oops, my bad. What was I thinking? Suddenly, between the fourth and fifth innings, the illusion is abruptly shattered ... the Diamond Vision has become The Kiss-Cam. Yep, those 20-foot x 20-foot, gazillion-pixel images of heterosexual couples kissing, while being egged on by the hoots and hollers of [nearly] everyone else in the stadium, magnify every queer's role as a second-class human being in a way nothing else can.
Anyone interested in buying season tickets?
One of the best parts of a game is people-watching. There's all kinds at a game, and between innings the camera operators pan the crowd to transmit larger-than-life images via the Diamond Vision screen ... a sort of focused voyuerism. And, in an odd way, it's a time to feel a part of a community, sitting amongst 50,000 people who -- for nine innings, anyway -- all have something in common.
Oops, my bad. What was I thinking? Suddenly, between the fourth and fifth innings, the illusion is abruptly shattered ... the Diamond Vision has become The Kiss-Cam. Yep, those 20-foot x 20-foot, gazillion-pixel images of heterosexual couples kissing, while being egged on by the hoots and hollers of [nearly] everyone else in the stadium, magnify every queer's role as a second-class human being in a way nothing else can.
Anyone interested in buying season tickets?
April 16, 2004
April 14, 2004
Hey, Mr. Bush, if Osama was responsible for 9-11, exactly why are we in Iraq?
Addendum: Shortly after the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center, the press published various and sundry reports of government and intelligence officials saying they never imagined that planes could be used as missiles. New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof recently penned his version of how such a conversation might have unfolded (Why Didn't We Stop 9/11?), given adequate intelligence information. (Exactly what purpose did they think the kamikazes served in World War II?)
Addendum: Shortly after the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center, the press published various and sundry reports of government and intelligence officials saying they never imagined that planes could be used as missiles. New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof recently penned his version of how such a conversation might have unfolded (Why Didn't We Stop 9/11?), given adequate intelligence information. (Exactly what purpose did they think the kamikazes served in World War II?)
April 13, 2004
April 10, 2004
Having two jobs sometimes sucks ... not least because it gets in the way of time I could be spending shushing down the slopes (albeit on rocks since the drought hasn't done much for the snowpack).
Yet it offers interesting lessons. I've long wondered just what it is that makes poorer folk more giving, more willing to part with money than those who have plenty to give. Ask anyone who works in the non-profit sector and they'll tell you that the bottom 5% of the income spectrum gives far more (and more often) than those in the upper 5%; indeed, it is the working class and the barely-working class that keep the sector afloat, comprising 55% of charitable giving (a whopping 77% of all charitable donations comes from individuals).
I deliver flower arrangements for a friend who recently opened her own business, and we get all types of customers -- including businesses, law firms, hotels, banquet facilities, realtors and public relations firms. The rest are individuals who order arrangements -- deliveries to private homes for birthdays, anniversaries, or just-for-the-helluvit. I go to expensive homes, middle-of-the-road homes, have delivered to several hotels, and areas that aren't known in real estate parlance as desirable locations. And you know what? The poorest home -- the one least able to part with a dollar -- was the most willing to tip me for the delivery.
I once believed that the reticence of rich folk to give up a dollar simply exemplified what made them rich. Silly me. In fact, po' folk are prolific givers because they know what it's like to have to eke out a living; it's much more difficult for those born into money to arrive at the same conclusion. Perhaps never having worked at all, let alone two or more jobs, never worrying about collecting coupons to save a few dollars at the grocery store, never faced with the dilemma of too much month at the end of the money, the affluent lack a mechanism by which to develop a clear concept of what it means to scrape by.
The thought that I might actually make enough money someday to have my own home, drive a better car, or dress in clothing with "dry clean only" labels is nice ... but it's not truly important to me. I'd rather preserve my faculty of empathy than lose it to materiality.
Yet it offers interesting lessons. I've long wondered just what it is that makes poorer folk more giving, more willing to part with money than those who have plenty to give. Ask anyone who works in the non-profit sector and they'll tell you that the bottom 5% of the income spectrum gives far more (and more often) than those in the upper 5%; indeed, it is the working class and the barely-working class that keep the sector afloat, comprising 55% of charitable giving (a whopping 77% of all charitable donations comes from individuals).
I deliver flower arrangements for a friend who recently opened her own business, and we get all types of customers -- including businesses, law firms, hotels, banquet facilities, realtors and public relations firms. The rest are individuals who order arrangements -- deliveries to private homes for birthdays, anniversaries, or just-for-the-helluvit. I go to expensive homes, middle-of-the-road homes, have delivered to several hotels, and areas that aren't known in real estate parlance as desirable locations. And you know what? The poorest home -- the one least able to part with a dollar -- was the most willing to tip me for the delivery.
I once believed that the reticence of rich folk to give up a dollar simply exemplified what made them rich. Silly me. In fact, po' folk are prolific givers because they know what it's like to have to eke out a living; it's much more difficult for those born into money to arrive at the same conclusion. Perhaps never having worked at all, let alone two or more jobs, never worrying about collecting coupons to save a few dollars at the grocery store, never faced with the dilemma of too much month at the end of the money, the affluent lack a mechanism by which to develop a clear concept of what it means to scrape by.
The thought that I might actually make enough money someday to have my own home, drive a better car, or dress in clothing with "dry clean only" labels is nice ... but it's not truly important to me. I'd rather preserve my faculty of empathy than lose it to materiality.
April 06, 2004
It would be nice if my head would stop buzzing for just a moment.
This past weekend saw the end of ten months of planning, writing, designing, negotiating, recruiting, training, and implementing our 2004 International GLBT Film Festival. And although nicely attended it was nevertheless exhausting ... but I'm having a tough time getting the buzz out of my head.
What troubles me now is that I feel somehow disconnected and out of sorts. It reminds me of times when, suffocating in the overt heterosexuality all around me, I would get in the car and race to the local women's bar just to be around people like me. I'd hang 20 minutes or so, soothed and comforted by the sameness all about ... inevitably, however, I would have to leave and return to the daily standard that is life surrounded by heteros who could give a shit how keenly I felt alone in a crowd.
For four days I didn't have to worry about my adrogyny, could embrace friends with abandon, and speak without self-editing ... four days to be exactly who I am without judgment. I imagine the freedom to be as the once-incarcerated, newly-released must feel.
To those who are thinking, "That's a self-esteem thing, " to hell with you. Try these:
"How old were you when you discovered you're heterosexual ?"
"What made you choose to be heterosexual ?"
"Why can't you just be gay like everyone else ?"
The buzz is now deafening. Wish I could drink.
This past weekend saw the end of ten months of planning, writing, designing, negotiating, recruiting, training, and implementing our 2004 International GLBT Film Festival. And although nicely attended it was nevertheless exhausting ... but I'm having a tough time getting the buzz out of my head.
What troubles me now is that I feel somehow disconnected and out of sorts. It reminds me of times when, suffocating in the overt heterosexuality all around me, I would get in the car and race to the local women's bar just to be around people like me. I'd hang 20 minutes or so, soothed and comforted by the sameness all about ... inevitably, however, I would have to leave and return to the daily standard that is life surrounded by heteros who could give a shit how keenly I felt alone in a crowd.
For four days I didn't have to worry about my adrogyny, could embrace friends with abandon, and speak without self-editing ... four days to be exactly who I am without judgment. I imagine the freedom to be as the once-incarcerated, newly-released must feel.
To those who are thinking, "That's a self-esteem thing, " to hell with you. Try these:
"How old were you when you discovered you're heterosexual ?"
"What made you choose to be heterosexual ?"
"Why can't you just be gay like everyone else ?"
The buzz is now deafening. Wish I could drink.
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