Wednesday, December 24, 2008

MERRY MAYAN CHRISTMAS!!!

Here's a little story that will either warm the cockles of your heart, or make you laugh, or both. It involves approximately 20 bored archaeologists and historians (but mostly the archaeologists are to blame on this one), a gingerbread structure, and some mayhem. Really, it's best told in photo-essay form, so a tip of the Santa Hat goes to Troy for inspiring me and my cohorts to document these inspiring events in this way.

It all started a few weeks before Christmas, with the miraculous appearance of a beautiful Mayan Pyramid, made of gingerbread and candy, on our front office tables....
Mayan Pyramid-Before
Here's an aerial-view to give you the full awe-inspiring effect, obviously taken by a brave Peeps in his Peeps-o-Copter....
pyramid aerial view

We admired the structure with all the hushed reverence of 2nd-grade children, for a full 2 days. Besides, there were Gummi Bear guards clearly posted at the main entrance, and we seriously didn't want to mess with them.
Main Entrance- Pyramid

Alas, after 2 days of hushed reverence, the gawking public and voracious looters could be held back no more, and some of the inner chambers were cracked open... to reveal... treasure!
Chamber of M&Ms and Kisses
Here you can see what must have been a Sacred chamber of Peanut M&Ms, and chocolate kisses... Not surprising, considering the Mayans worshiped the cacao bean as a god, and practically invented chocolate as we know it.
Pyramid Chamber of Skittles
Above is the Chamber of Skittles, "mistakenly" opened by one amateur archaeologist when he fell into a trap door. Fortunately, his body was impaled on 1,000 spikes and then consumed by albino alligators that have been living in the underground river for the past 1200 years. Thus taking his greedy insolence out of the gene pool forever. Yaay!
Unfortunately, his comrades managed to destroy (probably by eating) the top of the pyramid, exposing the greatest treasure inside- a mural of The Sacred Mayan Hippo God! Named um, uh... Hippocatepetl. Yeah.
Pyramid Sacred Hippo

This apparently loosed the spirit of the great Hippo God(dess) and not in a good way. Protector spirits soon showed up, chased away the looters and gawkers, re-set the ancient curses protecting the pyramid so that anyone who touched it would find their flesh falling off of them in a matter of minutes, and erected licorice barriers to protect the site.
Fierce Warrior Hippo God!
This is the main guy. Pretty fierce, que no?
He stayed on top of the pyramid to guard the Hippocatepetl mural, and deployed his troops all around as needed.
Pile o' Hippos
Nevertheless, looters snuck back in and viciously cut out the heart of the Hippo mural. And probably ate it, because it wasn't made of solid gold or anything, it was just sugar candy.
Hippo heart- gone!
Emboldened by their victory, the looters and the looting continued.
Looting damage!
And continued....
Looting damage & barriers
Reinforcements were brought in, including Santa the Roaring Hippo, but to no avail.
Hippo guards

Things were rapidly getting out of hand. In the interest of science, we had to participate, and by doing so revealed another mysterious symbol on one of the inner walls. What is that thing? Could it be... Peace?
The wall- gone! Revealing- secrets!
The looters were getting cheeky, even venturing to replace the hippo's heart with a red M&M...
Heart replaced
And then, even cheekier, putting one in Santa Hippo's mouth.
Roaring hippo

At some point in here, I tried to appease the Gods by sacrificing some marshmallow Santa's on the pyramid and rolling them down the steps, as is customary, but some people in the office got offended. Go figure. I mean, what's Christmas without a little Mayan sacrifice? Complete with Cherry Cordials for blood? So there are no pictures of that. Sorry. Try and have a good Christmas without it.

Some of the hippo guards starting arming themselves with toothpicks.
Hippo guards

One rather large fellow decided to block the entrance.
Hippo block

While still others doggedly kept up the licorice rope-barriers.
Barrier view

barrier- top

And of course, a few of them started getting punchy after awhile...
Hippos riding hippos

And then, the unthinkable happened. Worse than looters, or gawkers, or amateur archaeologists, or meth-head "arrowhead hunters"- yes, that's right. Developers.
The next day we arrived to find this sign erected in front of the pyramid. We rubbed our eyes like the little Whos in Whoville, not believing what we saw. Also, it was very difficult to read the fine print.
Re-zoning notice

But it was true. Our beautiful sacred Mayan Pyramid site had been re-zoned, right out from under us. Something called "The Pyramid Lofts" starting at $700,000! were "Coming Soon!" We were sore' amazed and confused.
Hippo guard, closeup
The hippos put up a valiant last stand.
Hippo guard, corner
But in the end, greed won out, and historic preservation was annihilated by something the developers like to call "Progress."
The last stand....

I won't show you pictures of the destroyed pyramid. It's just too sad.
So boys and girls, brothers and sisters of all stripes, everywhere, please remember this Christmas to treasure and protect your cultural resources, whatever they may be. That's the only point of this blog, other than to show what a serious bunch of dorks we are. And also, if you live in a capital city, go to your local SHPO office and take those hardworking guys and gals some cookies or something, because clearly we're all losing our minds.

As Hippocatepetl would say, "Oooga Booga Wooga Chooga, Happy Freakin' Christmas to Ya!"

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Appendage to the Greatest Heist in History

I should have been more clear with my original post, titled The Greatest Heist in History, until Now, and I apologize. Mostly the 3 Trillion dollar question for these past 8 years, for me, at least, has been- are they merely thieves, like the Territorial governors of New Mexico, or are they fixin' to build on this heap of destruction, a good ol' fashioned dictatorship? So I've come to the conclusion, after much nail-biting, fear, disorientation, calamity, and hives, that they are indeed the former rather than the latter.
They know as well as we do that not only would the American people not put up with such crap, even if there is an "R" after some elected official's name, and 2) this country is too damn big for one person to take over. Hell, it's too big NOW for one elected president to preside over. We just baaaarrrrrrely got control of this uh, United States of 'merka, as it is.
They also know that trying to bomb us into submission will only call them out and mark them as the bandits and scum-sucking sheep ticks they are for life. As it stands now, they've manipulated the media and public opinion to the point where the average citizen now feels justified in making up their own facts to support their own extremist, hateful, flimsy opinions, which are probably just extrapolations and regurgitations from the Republican Talking Points, aka Sean Hannity. (so that's a double regurgitation...eeeewwww, sorry for that).
You know that old saying, the first casualty of war is always the Truth? Well, I think we can go ahead and say that first, middle and last casualty of any Republican administration is the truth. Seriously. Go test this out on your neighbors or co-workers or friends. After 22 years of no Fairness Doctrine, and now 12 years of a completely de-regulated media, people now take Entertainment Tonight more seriously than the nightly news. That to me is the most damaging thing that's happened to this country, especially in the last 8 years. That people actually believed the shit those assclowns were throwin' up on the TV, just because they were saying it, loudly, and it was on- did I mention?- the TeeVee, it was taken as the God's Truth- that's what broke my heart and turned my stomach.
Those babies that were killed during the first bombings of Baghdad- well uh, they deserved to die, right? Because their parents were evil Iraqis or insurgents or something. I mean, how dare they stand up to the United States Military? If they had just fled like they were supposed to, or surrendered before the troops even showed up, they wouldn't have died! so it's THEIR fault! Stupid brown people. AND- how freaking irresponsible are those parents, living in a potential war zone??? I mean COME ON- they knew the United States Army was on it's way!
puh.
Yeah, with serious shit like this going on, no wonder we thought they had plans for totalitarianism. That's what a lot of their propaganda was designed for, to keep us afraid, to silence us. So we'd keep our own necks and heads inside our little turtle shells until the danger passed. But what if it didn't pass? We asked ourselves, repeatedly, and with good cause.
I started this blog a month ago, and now even more shit is hitting the fan. But it makes me even more certain that the plan all along was not to impose absolute power absolutely, if even for only a few years, but it was to break this country financially and leave it in such a huge fucking mess otherwise that we'd be too busy dodging chunks of falling sky to notice them sneaking off to their Leer jets bound for Dubai, holding big sacks of cash.
Where did that 9 billion dollars go, Paul Bremer?
But no, they're just a bunch of fucking thieves. And murderers. Who will high-tail it to the nearest, friendliest, extradition-free country (Dubai, Dubai, and Dubai) next week on January 20th at approximately 12:35 pm EST. They're not competent or smart enough to "build" on any of this catastrophe, anyway. Which is reason #3 that we don't have to worry about that.
They were smart enough to look at history, and know that greedy, murdering dictators who try to grab ALL the power and control ALL the people never survive long enough to enjoy their booty. So it was always this delicate tightrope dance, balancing just enough fear with just the right amount of media manipulation and corruption (wherefore art thou, Justice Department?) so that people wouldn't scream too loud about all the money they were stealing and the people they were killing.
As one of my hero/heart-throbs, John Cusack, said in his blog, "You gotta hand it to 'em, their gall is gorgeous."
But I still hold out hope that whether it's by special prosecutor, or Grand Jury investigation, or international tribunal, they will be held accountable for their war crimes, and the trashing of the Constitution, and for the stealing.
I still hold onto that image of Jenna Bush in a brown polyester waitress uniform, groveling for 35 cent tips so she can slowly, day by day, pay off her daddy's sins. One way or another, they will be held accountable. If not by the Congress, then by Grand Jury. If not by class action lawsuit ("The People of the United States vs. former President George W.Bush and Richard D. Cheney" has a nice ring to it) then by the Hague. If not by international special-forces peacekeeping units then... well, ya know. We'll figure something out. The important thing is that justice is restored to this country. We can't just turn the page and pretend this never happened. And remember, much of the country still doesn't know what really happened to it/them, and they may well be in post-traumatic denial for quite some time. Yes I'll say it, we need to give them a helping hand out of the swirling shame spiral.
Rednecks for Obama
See? it's possible for people to see the light.

Dick Cheney says he's going back to Casper, Wyoming. (yeah, right.) I think what he meant was, "I'm going to the island off of Dubai that I had created to look exactly like Casper, Wyoming. Oil rigs and all."
I'll leave it at for now- FBI agents are probably monitoring this.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

And furthermore.... America, Thank You.

I forgot to say this, because I was so busy not gloating, but thank you America. I love you. So much.
Thank you for making me feel sane again.
Thank you for lifting this burden off my shoulders, and sharing it with me, and putting your arms around my shoulders instead.
Thanks for singing with me. Thanks for praying with me. Thanks for having faith in me when I lost faith in you.
Thanks also for crying with me, and drowning out my embarrassingly loud sobs with your own, in chorus.
But thanks mostly for letting me know I'm not only the one out there with these ideals, these hopes, these dreams. I'm not the only who cares about the sanctity of the Constitution, and common decency, and justice. I'm not the only one who can put aside self-interest and think long-term for once. I'm not the only one who's sick to death of this death culture, of war-mongering, of raped women and slaughtered children on the evening news. I'm not the only one disgusted by corporate soldiers, and real soldiers being kicked to the curb after their service, or told to shut up and go home (if they have one). Yeah, I know, it's conceited of me to even think that.
Because, and maybe I should have come clean with this earlier, I grew up in a family that was like a microcosm of the Bush Administration, with the lying, and the favoritism, and the daily injustices, and the secret addictions, and the bullying, abusive, crazy-making behavior, and the lying, and the lying, and the lying. As a result, I still have this ingrained belief that if I don't do something, take responsibility for something, it won't get done. If I didn't water the plants, they would have died. If I didn't feed and walk the dog, she would have died. If I didn't clean the whole damn house every weekend... you get the picture. So I tend to take the weight of the world on me, and shoulder all sorts of guilt and burden that isn't mine to bear. It was true in my family, it's true for my country. If I don't try and save my family, who will? If I don't try and save the world, who will? It's odd, and not entirely coincidental, for the past 8 years, we as a people have been in a very sick, co-dependent relationship with our government. And for the past 8 years, almost to the day that the Thief got sworn in, I have not spoken to my family.
Now it seems, some kind of global intervention has taken place, and everyone else woke up from the abusive, codependent denial haze sometime after I did. For some, what shook them awake was the immediate aftermath of the 9-11 attacks. For some it was the bald-faced lies told in the mainstream media to get us into this ridiculous, tragic war. For some it was Katrina. For some it was seeing a loved one come home from said war(s) broken, uncared for, and thrown away by this government. For many it was the crashing economy that took their dreams with it.
For me, it was the carpet-bombing of the American people with lie after lie and scandal after scandal that did it. At first, I was so triggered by their violence and deception, I could only duck and cover like everyone else. I could only try and take care of myself and my husband and our cat, which was hard enough to do for the first 3 years of this nightmare, anyway. I was so triggered, most of the time, I could barely catch my breath, nevermind speak out against the atrocities, or tell my story. Even the husband said, right after I'd shaved my head in protest at the Thief's 2nd stolen inauguration (and then immediately decided to get pregnant) "you seem to be taking this personally." Well, I was. That's the understatement of the decade. For me, every time the Bush Regime cranked out another whopper, like "We know Saddam has Weapons of Mass Destruction and he plans to use them!" right after the UN Weapons inspectors were interviewed and said, "yeah, nothing here, we got rid of them all in the 90's, like we told you" it was my psychotic, narcissist of a mother threatening to kill me, herself, and burn down the house all over again- complete with the sneering at my tears and a "you're not abused, you're a spoiled little bitch." for good measure.

So thank you America, for validating my perceptions, what I've seen with my own eyes and felt with my own heart, as real. You don't know how much that means to me.
And if you're not crying yet, just read Alice Walker's Open Letter to Barack Obama, available here http://www.theroot.com/id/48726- but even it doesn't contain the crying-est part. That you had to hear on her interview with Amy Goodman of Democracy Now! today, Veteran's Day. Many black and other oppressed-people leaders around the globe have been calling to remind Obama that the White House was built by slaves, and how he should never forget that. For many of these people, Obama is not enough of a "grievance politician" like Jesse Jackson, one who is constantly reminding whites of the wrongs they've done, and blacks of the struggles they've been through. They know he is a transcendent of that type, and not of that type, so he needs to "remember" as a cultural descendant of American slaves, if not a strictly racial descendant of them (since his father was not descended from slaves). This gets tricky because white racists could just as easily remind Obama constantly that the White House was built by slaves, but they'd be doing it to try and belittle him or "put him in his place." As Alice does, she reframed it in her gentle, rip-your-heart-open way. She said look, the ancestors have long memories, and they also think long-term. So I think they knew, when they were building that house, that they were building it for him. They poured their loftiest dreams into the sweat that built that place, and they dreamnt of him generations before he ever arrived. They knew he would come. They knew they wouldn't see it in their lifetimes, or in their children's lifetime, or in their great-grandchildren's lifetime, but they knew he would come. That's faith.
(crying yet?)
I liken it to that old saying about Cathedral builders in Europe back in the day. It would take at least 100 years to build a good one, and workers were little better than slaves, but the honor and "glory" of doing it would be passed down for 3, 4 generations.
It also strikes a similar chord to one of my favorite quotes, from one of my favorite activist heroine-moms, Winona LaDuke. She was, in turn, quoting one of her Anishinaabe elders on the struggles of Native Americans and whether or not they would ever "get there." The elder said, in a nutshell- "all this- our lands being taken away, our people diminished from disease and warfare, our people's families torn apart by poverty, drugs and crime, these past 200 or so years, all this, is but a thunderclap (and here he smacked his hands together loudly, for effect) in the history of our people."
We'll look on these past 8 years as such, amigos. I have faith. But thank you again, so much, for weathering the storm with me, and for handing me a damn umbrella when I wouldn't get out of the rain myself.

(and thanks for allowing me to officially re-christen this space as The Campfire! The Crowbar was starting to give me bad visuals.)

Friday, November 7, 2008

What, Me, Gloat?

Nah, no gloating to be found here. Nuthin' to see here. Move along. Except, this is me, right now Dora Celebrate
I have no wish to behave or speak like the blowhard asswipes who bellowed their pre-supposed superiority from every rooftop, after they STOLE another election in 2004. No desire.
On the other hand, I'm not going to button my lip and sit on my hands either. A song keeps coming to me, and it's sung to the tune of, and in the style of, one of Dora the Explorer's victory songs at the end of each episode. Need a refresher? Here you go:

But my version goes a little something like this:
Hey, we e-lec-ted a President, who isn't an id-i-ot! Yeah
We did it! We did it! We did it- Hooray!
Yeah we listened to our hopes instead of our fears, yeah
we did it- We did it! We did it! Hooray!
We used our hearts and minds to win some hearts and minds
Yeah we did it. We did it! We did it! Hooray!

Ah. Feels good, huh? I'm still in that nervous, waiting-for-something-terrible-to-happen mode, which is not entirely unwarranted. And then every once in a while, I tear up, or burst out giggling, thinking of how awesome this is.
President-elect Barack Obama.
I knew it would happen, and yet I didn't. I'm still worried for him. A lot of people are. And their feelings are not entirely unwarranted either. If he is a cross between JFK and MLK- well- that's awesome, but it doesn't bode well.
We have to imagine a different outcome this time.
I've harped on this before. Our imaginations could use a little exercise, out in the fresh air and sunshine. So I'm busy imagining a more perfect union, and everyone working together to make sure it happens. I'm visualizing Malia at age 18 - the age she'll be when they turn over the White House to someone else. And yes, I'm picturing the new puppy growing up, and growing old there too (FYI, it's a Wheaton terrier from a rescue group- they have hypo-allergenic hair instead of fur, they're an American breed, and they're great dogs.)
I'm imagining the fashion standards Michelle will set as a "real" working woman, and a real woman who is really in love with her husband and not afraid to show it, while being her own person and setting a fabulous example for her daughters, all at the same time. I'm jubilant at the thought that President Obama is the first president my daughter will remember. I'm pretty glad that Bush & Co. will be but a vague memory to her, if at all, much like the Nixon administration was to me.
So. With all that happiness and sunshine- and really, I haven't gloated all week- you can ask my friends- I still have to wonder why the McCain supporters are so genuinely down-hearted.
Seriously. But if any of them are reading (doubtful)- I want to say, you have nothing to fear from us. Barack Obama means it when he says he will be your President too- he's not just paying lip service to that notion like most Republicans do. We are not the ones who keep Enemy lists of people and then act out our revenge fantasies on them as soon as we get a modicum of power (helloooo, Mrs. Palin....). We are not the ones you have to worry about dragging your family from their beds in the middle of the night because you sorta look like an "enemy combatant" or your name is similar to a terrorist's. We are not the ones who detain and torture people without due process, just because we've consolidated power in all branches of government, and we'll get away with it at least for a few years.
Nope. And ya know what? They know that. The one, lone blowhard conservative in my office used to say some amazing shit right to my face like, "Obama is a sleeper agent- his story is bullshit- how do you get into Harvard after going to highschool in Hawaii? That's right, affirmative action. yeeha, we'll have the first affirmative-action President." My jaw would just drop, my fists would clench, then I would remember I'm in an office environment... and walk away. Then I realized, he's saying this shit because he knows that when we're in power, we won't pull any of the common crap they pull on a daily basis, just because that's not who we are. He knows I'm not going to put him on an "S-list" and have him beaten senseless just because I can, because that's not how we roll. Schmuck.
So it boggles the mind as to why all these yahoos are out buying up every assault weapon on the market right now, before Obama is sworn in, because they think one of the first things he'll do is ban assault weapons. Ostensibly. What they're really afraid of, and what they won't admit to (unless tortured) is a big "Black Uprising" - the kind that Ron Paul used to warn about in his little Texan Libertarian newsletters. http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/01/10/paul.newsletters/index.html
He explicitly advised his subscribers to stock up on weapons, food, and more weapons, because as soon as blacks got a little bit of power, they would use it to avenge almost 400 years of slavery and general mistreatment.
Now, I've never heard any black person say anything remotely similar to what Mr. Paul projects onto them, as an entire "people"- but seriously dudes- we have bigger fish to fry right now than the whole assault weapons/ 2nd Amendment problem. Do you really think you and your damn hunting rifles are priority 1?
For instance, the economy is looming large. And global warming, which is escalating.
It's November 7th, and Cuba is about to get hammered with ANOTHER hurricane. So- even if you think we're about to go all Mad Max because of these combined maelstroms... did you really think we were "safe" under the Patriot Act, which basically suspends the Constitution whenever Dubya gets nervous (which is frequently)? And the warrantless wiretapping of American citizens by the government- that didn't make you nervous? And again, the carting-off of people to black-site prisons just because they looked a certain way, talked a certain way, worshiped a certain way.... that didn't bother you in the least? The fact that these mercenary corporate armies were sent into New Orleans after Katrina, to SHOOT CIVILIANS didn't bother you at all? But now... that we have a black or mixed race man in the highest office in the land... all of a sudden you feel the need to buy an assault rifle. And that's not racially motivated at all? Sorry, not buyin' it.
If anyone else believes it, I've got a mountain to sell you, complete with Scenic Roads open 5 months a year, and Snackbar.
Refreshments, anyone?
Dora Jump

Monday, November 3, 2008

Mop-up

Hey y'all. Suzy here, with my night-before-the-election blog. There were a few tacks I was going to take with this one, but (I mean, for cripes' sake, how could I not blog?) I think it's more important to do the pre-election thing first.
And primero, I am not trying to freak anyone out, I'm just warning everyone to keep a sharp eye out, and stay prepared, until the evening of January 20th. And even after that, we probably can't relax. No way the right wingers are going to just fold up their cheap tents and go home. We'll have to protect Obama while holding his feet to the fire on the issues, and be watching his back at the same time. For eight years. Yep. Thought it was time to relax? Sorry. When I was on a wildland fire-fighting crew, our chiefs trained us that most accidents and injuries happen not during the fire, when everybody's senses are sharpened and heightened by adrenaline, and you can work for 24 hours straight without knowing it, but during "mop-up" or the aftermath of the fire. When you're not directly battling flames, you tend to relax a little bit, let your guard down, start goofing and horsing around with your crewmates, and before you know it, someone falls into a stumphole and gets seriously hurt. Stumpholes are what they sound like- a tree burns almost completely, leaving maybe part of a stump behind and a whole lotta ash and smoldering charcoal. They're deceptive because the tree looks totally burned- like there's no fuel left to burn so how could it be dangerous? But what you don't see is that the fire has also traveled down the main roots of the tree and burned them out under the ground on which you're standing, and it may look solid, but as soon as someone steps on the thin layer of ash and mineralized soil - whoosh! Down they go down the rabbit hole. Actually they're much worse than rabbit holes- half the time the fire is still burning down there, the ground is hot enough to melt rubber soles on fire-grade boots, and the gaping black maw that opens to swallow you up looks like an entrance to hell. Or, what I am imagine the entrance to hell would look like, having never been there. (* correction, I thought I was in hell once, but I was just in New England.)
If you prefer sports metaphors, try the one Michael Moore trotted out a couple days ago, in an interview with Amy Goodman. He told the story of the Detroit Lions running back who was blazing a trail to the endzone and thought he was home-free, and started celebrating before he even got to the endzone... doing his little dance and all...and a running back from the opposing team came and smacked that ball right out of the Lions' dude's hands. And took it, and ran with it, for quite a distance. Yeah.
Or if you prefer the much shorter, Yogi Berra type warning, "it ain't over til it's over."
So don't fall into any stumpholes out there tomorrow, horsin' around and doing your premature victory dance/laps, and I'll see you at the Global Tiki Party afterwards. :)
Oh and here's a preview of that other blog I was going to write:
Hopper 2
Anyhoo, here goes

Sunday, October 12, 2008

O, Death

Yesterday was shit and today wasn't much better. Death sucks. Don't let anyone tell you it doesn't. At the end of yesterday I felt like crap after crying, then talking to lots of people and feeling better, and eating lots of rich food, then crying again. Not even 2 mocha grandes could get me through it, and that's usually my anti-grief/ uncontrollable crying weapon of choice.
A few people even gave me bewildered glances as I sobbed when the casket with our mutual friend and colleague in it came out of the mortuary chapel, bourne by other, stronger mutual friends and colleagues. Yes, I was crying. I cried- at a funeral! For God's sake, why couldn't I control myself??? F- them too. At least I spared the family my blubbering in that condolences line or whatever you call it. Got about 5 feet away, then sprinted for the side door. Couldn't do it. Perhaps it gave them comfort just to see how many people loved, admired, respected and knew him, but cripes, they don't know me. Why burden them with my grief when that's all I have to give at the moment? I'll get myself together and pay fitting tributes later. Like, for the rest of my life. But right now, I still can't believe it.
After finding out a few more salient details at the funeral and the "wake" reception held by a co-worker, I'm also still officially in that "angry" phase of grief. For instance, apparently all the men on Dale's side of the family had died in their 50's of some sort of heart problem. But he wouldn't go to a doctor. Dammit, Dale! People need you! People depend on you and love you!
I think he must have had inklings, and decided to eat better, but still didn't want to go and get the official prognosis, because it would have just depressed him. In the last 6-8 months it seemed like he was slowly fading away from us, physically and emotionally. I hardly ever saw him, but when I did he barely said "hi" and he looked pale, and gray. I think the last time I saw him, it was crossing Colfax at Grant, him going towards the museum, me going to the gym which is near the office he worked in. I recognized him (barely) and said "hello Dale!" he smiled in recognition and said hello back, and kept quickly walking. I knew he was having stressful times at work and seemed to be withdrawing into himself. Like he just didn't want to be bothered. Maybe this is too much psychoanalysis but this is what people do when someone dies suddenly.
Actually, I'll bet he's doing a big Homer Simpson "doh!" up in heaven right now. And perhaps, St. Peter's giving him a gentle smack upside the head. He's saying, geez louise, I knew my days were numbered, but couldn't I have just a little more time? St. Pete's shaking his head no. "Well pal, if you'd gone to the doctor a year ago like your wife told you to? Maybe. But no."
Apparently this was nothing new, because one time he slipped and fell on the ice and broke his wrist, and didn't go to the doctor then either. Just wrapped it up with Ace bandages and an ice pack for several weeks. It never healed properly, and caused him pain for the rest of his life. But he never complained.
Apparently he had been visiting his mother last Sunday, and left kind of earlier than usual, and it happened while he was walking up to the bus stop. Someone must have seen him collapse, and called an ambulance. Jesus, I hope so.
It was a week ago. Just a week ago.
I have to post this final, hilarious story that Mark Wolfe told at the service, as a tribute to Dale's humour which is what we all appreciated most about him (as well as the encyclopedic knowledge). Mark had left the Colorado SHF office for greener pastures in of all places, Texas, as their new State Historic something or other- in August. Evidently the desk that he had used all these years belonged to him, not the State, and he wanted it shipped down to him as soon as feasible. At his expense of course, but still, kind of a pain for the office staff. So in typical Dale fashion, he makes a big practical joke out of the whole thing. Last Monday, Mark walks into his office bright and early (not having heard anything at the time) to find a medium-sized cardboard box on his desk addressed to him but marked "PERSONAL."
It doesn't weigh a lot, so he opens it cautiously and inside finds... a ransom note, complete with stereotypical magazine-cut-out letters, for his desk. It says basically, give us $500 or you will never see this desk again. DO NOT call the police. He digs down further in the package and finds, in a small plastic baggie, one knob, taken from the desk.
We all hooted and howled with laughter, through our tears. Dale had the last word, and he made us all laugh.
The most poignant part is that then Mark sat down and opened his email as usual, and found out that one of his best friends had died.
There's not a whole lot, funny or unfunny, that can make that better. I don't think many of us want to be "better" just yet. We want to keep on feeling shitty for as long as it takes. We'd like to be the better people that Dale inspired us to be- to have more integrity, a stronger work ethic, more patience with idiots, strive for greater accuracy- but frankly that seems impossible right now. As historians, archaeologists, and human beings, we need to mark the passing of a truly great man, and mourn him properly. It's the end of an era, the Dale Heckendorn era, and none of us know what that means yet except a lot less laughter in the face of adversity.

Monday, September 29, 2008

The Greatest Heist in History, Until Now

When this here Bush (II) administration started carpet-bombing the American public with scandal after scandal as soon as they took office in 2001, I was just as stunned into "shock and awe" as the next person. There was so much scandal coming at us fast and furious, you'd have to be a 5th-degree black belt ninja in scandal to deflect it, much less react to it in a rational way. So I, like many stunned and disgusted Democrats or anyone to the left of Jerry Falwell, thought ok, these assclowns will just fuck themselves right out of a job in a hurry and if they're not impeached by 2003, I'll be a monkey's uncle- but in any case, by 2004 we can all come back to our senses and elect a REAL President.
Then September 11th, 2001 happened- and again, I saw the guilty look on W's face as he mounted that pile of rubble with the firefighters, and thought everybody else saw it too, because gods almighty, you don't need conspiracy theories to know that that happened ON THEIR WATCH. So I still thought, and rightly so, that Moron Jr. and his gang of thugs were on their way out for mishandling everything so badly.
I didn't fully realize what they were up to until 2003, when Chimpy stood on that aircraft carrier's ramp in a flight suit and declared "Mission Accomplished" while people were dying and Osama bin Laden was scampering off to Pakistan or something. And then I got it again when the Abu Ghraib scandal broke. And then again... oh hell, I don't have time to list them all here- but it came to me all of a sudden:
This is exactly what the New Mexico Governors did for something like 5 centuries, right up until Bill Richardson (and I'm still not sure he's clean).
Whether they were appointed by the King of Spain by Royal Decree, or by the Emperor Maximillian by ultra-royal (and yet, illegitimate) decree, or by the many self-appointed Generales or Presidentes who followed, OR (in case you think I'm being racist) by the U.S. Presidents who had to appoint Territorial Governors for the newly annexed Territory of New Mexico from, when class? when? That's right, from the time the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo was signed in 1849 until New Mexico became a state in 1912. And then, after that as well. Their common denominator was that they were all corrupt to the core. Their only aim in "governance," if you could call it that, was to steal as much as they possibly could to benefit themselves and their friends/family and then to escape with their lives, if possible.
It all started after the generation of the conquistadors, when New Spain decided that the Northern Territories (as they were called) weren't really all that, and rather than throw good money and people after bad, they'd concentrate on California which was like a Garden of Eden and much more likely to make them filthy rich.
This is hard to believe today, with real estate prices equaling or exceeding that of Manhattan, but Santa Fe was considered a backwater, and "a little hell-hole" as my New Mexico history professor put it. The northern-most territory of New Spain quickly became its Siberia. It's where bad bureaucrats were sent to die, or to do less harm than they could in the magnificent cities of Guadalajara and Mexico City. So as you might imagine, these bureaucrats who were not the cream of the crop in the first place. In fact they were criminals, but they came from high-ranking families so they couldn't be thrown in jail. These ne'er-do-well sons of rich and powerful people (ringing any bells class? Anyone? Buehler?) in their new posts in Santa Fe proceeded to whine, and bitch, and moan about their poor sad sorry lots in life like nobody's bidness. Meanwhile, they had the natives enslaved, growing immense orchards of fruit and wine-grapes for them, harvesting all the food, basically doing all the work- and with nothing else to do, they wrote letter after letter to the King's Chancellors, Ex-Chequer of Mexico, Cortez- whoever they thought might listen- telling them what a little hell-hole Santa Fe was and how desperately they needed supplies, money, guns, strong young men, etc. because the natives were "uncooperative" and they were all "starving", blah blah blah. None of it was true. We archaeologists who know the REAL story from the undeniable material record, get into fits of hysterics, reading those letters, because those dudes were rollin' in it! Because why? Class? What was their goal? That's right, steal as much as they possibly can to benefit themselves and their friends/family and then escape with their lives, if possible.
NM TERRITORY
In fact, this is a point I love to beat my colleagues over the head with whenever we get into it about the arbitrary difference between what we call "history" in America, and "prehistory." They insist that real history started when the "written record" was introduced to this continent. So, people with writing (aka, Europeans, aka, White People) have real history, and people who weren't that "advanced" don't have anything of worth to even talk about so shut up already. I take sadistic pleasure in pointing out repeatedly how racist and arbitrary and hence, skewed and inaccurate that definition is, and this is one of my favorite examples of WHY. Because PEOPLE LIE. In verbiage, in writing, in their thoughts, ALL THE DAMN TIME. Lying was invented way before writing was, anywhere, and every culture does it. Get this in your heads, class. Now. It WILL be on the test!!
Still think I'm being kinda racist, by implying that all Hispano-americans are inherently corrupt or something? Well, even though my archaeologist friend Angelica, who is from Juchipila, Zacatecas (you can't get much more Mexican than that) told me very matter-of-factly that "el corrupcion es la sciencia de los espanoles" (Corruption is the science of the Spanish)- I'm here to tell you, it got much, much worse after the United States took hold of Nuevo Mexico and started the sendin' the white guys in. HOOO boy, howdy, that's when things really went downhill. The first white Territorial Governors were basically the former "Indian Fighters" like Kit Carson who deserved some kind of reward for herding thousands of Navajos from the Northwest corner of New Mexico to the Southeast corner, and then deciding that was a really bad idea and herding them back, into Arizona. Along the way, a lot of them died. But Carson and his cronies like George Bent were masters of the Santa Fe Trail and all its commerce- they were like big gang bosses essentially, except they would do the bidding of the U.S. Army when it suited them. They made lousy governors. And since there was already this long, upstanding tradition of corruption in Santa Fe and locals seemed to like their traditions- I mean, why buck it? So their stated and unstated goals became, what class? What was that? Can we say it all together? steal as much as they possibly could to benefit themselves and their friends/family and then to escape with their lives, if possible. Long story short, after Carson and Bent, the litany of Territorial Governors reads like a dirty laundry list from a rogue's gallery full of crime and intrigue. The Wikipedia list isn't near complete. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Governors_of_New_Mexico_Territory
Whoever posted this was probably too embarrassed to tell the real story. As you'll notice, the average tenure was like 6 months. If it says "died in office," that means they were killed. So many white guys were offed in the first year by angry mobs, the various U.S. Presidents in charge of filling that post were in the same position as the Mexican Presidentes, various kings, etc. They were scrapin' the bottom of the barrel.
NM & Utah Territories here's another pretty map of Territorial New Mexico, and Utah.
But here's why this story gives me hope. Put' near ALL of the Territorial Governors, thieving, murderous dogs that they were, were run out of town on a rail or sometimes strung up right in that picturesque Santa Fe Plaza you hippies love to hang out in. Thank God. My friend Beth's great-great-grandfather, Samuel Beach Axtell, was one who managed to escape with his life and tell the tale. The U.S. gov't brought him in from Utah Territory thinking he'd be immune to the corruption, as an outsider, which was mostly true, but even he couldn't keep his hands out of the cookie jar and he fled for his life in the middle of the night on a fast horse before the angry mob, pitchforks, torches and all, came for him. I imagine he headed straight East to Texas, and relative civilization.
Samuel Beach Axtell "Axtell exhibited good administrative and legislative qualities while Governor of Utah and Representative from California, respectively, but his tenure as Governor of New Mexico would be so inept, a federal agent named Frank Angel would later describe Governor Axtell's administration as having more "corruption, fraud, mismanagement, plots and murder" than any other Governor in the history of the United States. This contributed to the lawlessness that prevailed in much of the territory, and Axtell's inability to understand or combat that problem. He often exhibited dictatorial practices, and when something was wrong, he would blame someone else." (Wikipedia)
Sound familiar?
Here's the hopeful part. It wasn't political rivals who came for them, by and large, it was the people. People had the power then, exploited and enslaved and oppressed as they were- people damn sure have the power now. Not that I am in any way advocating violence.
I guess the difference with today's gang is that incompetents were purposefully chosen, (Mike "heckuva job" Brown, college roommate of one of Bush's pals) and told to screw things up as much as possible, so that people get the impression that government never works and we should get rid of it/privatize everything.
Mark my words, that is the end goal. They are now trying to pull off the greatest heist in human history. Not just what's in the Treasury now, but what might be in the Treasury for a few generations to come. Make no mistake, this is a stick-up. This time, the Shock and Awe is coming from Wall Street, the Weapons of Mass Destruction are the credit banks and the mortgage banks, threatening to implode and take us all down with them if we don't do what they say.
Send money, guns, and young men, and quickly! The natives are at my door! (yes, they're bringing you your apricot wine, like you asked, Senor....)
Same thing.
It's another big, fat, whopping lie.
yawn.
Don't fall for it.

On a side note, this monkey business didn't end with Statehood for New Mexico. Ohhhh no. Because what is their stated goal, class? One more time? oh yeah- steal as much as they possibly could to benefit themselves and their friends/family and then to escape with their lives, if possible. And it continues to this day, down to the smallest State bureaucrat in that 3rd world country to the South of me (even the secretary of graduate studies at UNM who held my NSF Fellowship-winning roommate's new computer hostage for months, trying to figure out a way she could profit from it)- but my favorite stories are from the "governor" who presided when I lived there, and that's "gov'nr" Gary Johnson. He was so incredibly bad and inept, NPR did a TWO-HOUR long special on his amazing badness. The theme was, the same backdrop I've set for you, that he even out-badded the Territorial Governors, and the lying ne'er-do-well hidalgos from the Colonial days. In 1994 he ran on a platform of "reform", and smaller government. He had no political experience, just ran a huge commercial construction company that his father-in-law handed him. You guessed it, he was actually a Libertarian in Republican clothing. Within a month of taking office, he had done two things that crack me up to this day: First thing, he dissolved a whole helluva lotta state agencies because he found them "unnecessary," e.g. they provided essential regulatory services that "got in the way of business." This included the Livestock Inspection stations which are positioned at points of entry on all four sides of New Mexico (*as well as most of the rest of the State agriculture Department). He said, "New Mexico beef is the finest in the world! Everyone should trust us and take our word for it!" The next day, all those livestock inspection people who had voted for him lost their jobs. And the guy who was the head of the USDA at the time, the agency that requires all states to have these livestock inspection stations, was like, "Uhhhmmmm, okay, you can do that I guess, but we're going to have to treat you like a foreign country now. And you will have to pass much stricter regulations and standards, because you are behaving like a foreign country, with exotic foodstuffs." Gov'r Johnson quickly and quietly reversed course and stationed like one guy, whom he probably found at "Rent-A-Livestock-Inspector" for $5 an hour, at each port-of-entry.
The next thing was even better- he also ran on a platform of getting the Indian gaming under control because white people were getting totally pissed off that the goddam 'Ndns were finally getting some money, and power, and fighting for their rights- so the next thing he did in office was try and shut down all the Indian casinos except for a few roulette wheels or something. He started with the Pueblo of Pojoaque, which is close to Santa Fe and had just opened a spankin' brand new casino and had plans for even more. The highway that runs from Santa Fe to Espanola (and on up to Bandelier, Los Alamos, Chimayo- all that tourist stuff) runs right through Pojoaque land, and several other pueblos for that matter. The Pojoaque Tribal Council had been expecting some shenanigans like this and they were ready. They said, okay white boy, you could do that but uhm, you realize that we are a sovereign nation and your State highway runs through our land at our discretion- so we'll just have to shut down that highway and turn it into a toll road to make up for the lost revenue.
We'll be nice - we'll only charge oh, maybe 8, 10 dollars a car.
Gov'nr Johnson quickly and quietly reversed course and promised never to bother them again, if they let him live. They did. And yet, somehow, he was re-elected. Go to NPR, check out the archives... or I'll try to find it... it's a fantabulous story.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

FEAR NOT, PARTE DOS! (but FYI, shotguns are on sale at Kmart...)

I've been staggering back and forth between abject fear and laughing-my-ass-off indifference for the past two weeks, much like the frat boys who run Wall Street have been staggering around for the past 30 years. But they have an excuse. They've been drunk.
When I say Fear Not, mis amigos, I don't say it lightly. I'm not saying "Don't worry, be happy" (aka, go ahead and do those farewell drugs). I know there is plenty to fear out there, plenty of reason to fear, plenty of conspiracy theories to conjure up that would scare the pants off a Vietnam Vet, plenty of bad past behavior that tends to predict future behavior. As a momma bear I have to listen to my instincts about protecting myself and my family, and PLAN for the best hopeful outcome at the same time. Fortunately for us women, multi-tasking is not difficult. Por ejemplo: While talking to Randi Rhodes on her show about how awesome the DNC and Obama and everything was going to be, I was filling up my emergency 5-gal water bottles. Juuuuuusssssst in case. True Story.
So. These past two weeks have been like cold-water slapped in the face after a wwweeeeee bit too long stewing in the old de-regulation jacuzzi. Ahhhhhhh... What a relief. I mean, it's kind of a relief when the shit finally hits the fan, isn't it? For more than 2 years now we've been waiting, biting our nails for this moment, when the biggest banks the world has ever known would collapse under their own irresponsible, monopoly-money weight, and then not even ask or beg politely to be bailed out, nay, but DEMAND that we bail out their sorry asses and NOW with no oversight, just hand over the money bitches!!
My first response is kinda Goodfellas, as in "Fuck YOU, pay me." The next response comes from my redneck half (that's my dad's side) which is grab the guns and bar the door. Those muthafrakkers come for your house, your farm, your car, your dog- I think you have every right to pull a shotgun on them at close range and use whatever catchphrase suits you. All of them translate to, "Nuh-uh."
In this sense, I have so much in common with my Republican brother-in-law, it's not even funny. He's been preparing for this day since he was oh, about 10, maybe younger, when his father was killed in an industrial accident and he was suddenly "man of the house." Make no mistake, I have respect for the guy. He knows how to hunt, and he pretty much walks his talk, which is un-sanctimonious, and generous to a fault with those he loves. With no college education, he's a hard worker, well respected in his field, and pretty damn smart. (and somewhat ironically, a proud union member).
Which is why I cannot allow him to vote for Grampy McSame.
Or, which is why it totally pisses me off that despite everything, EVEN THIS, he WILL vote for John McSame.
Let me back up a bit and explain why I'm writing this blog. Last weekend we went up to Greeley to visit the nephew for Family Day at UNC, where nephew just started. yaay, nephew!! We're so proud! Also we went for the brunch buffet which included all-you-can-eat prime rib and waffles. *Very good, I might add, since the cow came from right down the street. Driving up there through Adams and Weld Counties via Hwy 85, you get a very clear sense very early on that you are no longer in Obama Territory. Greeley is a friendly enough town, despite the slaughterhouse and stockyards, but getting up there is like crossing through No-Man's-Land for us progressives. Don't expect me to launch into a hilarious travelogue here that basically gets me cheap laughs at the expense of rural people and their culture, that's not what I'm here for. Like I said, half of me is redneck, from the smallest of towns in South Dakota for chrissake, and there's a reason this mutual hatred/contempt/disdain divide is growing in America- I don't need to add to it, and don't see the point.
Drive through any rural county that's adjacent to a major metropolitan area in America, and you'll see that this election is as much about Country vs. City, as it is Black vs. White, and Rich vs. Poor. There's a reason McSame picked a small-town mayor from a largely rural state who touts "small-town values" and loves to hunt, ride dirt bikes, do meth, etc. It's because of this divide, which has been nurtured and allowed to grow for the past 8 years (or I would say, 28), built on a false notion that country mice and city mice are fundamentally "diff'ernt" as my grandmother would say (god rest her soul), and therefore "other" and therefore easily, "enemy."
Photobucket
(this is a cute picture to keep you interested, break up the text, and display my happy-dance moves.)
So in many ways, I totally empathize with the country mindset, but I can't claim it.
Which brings me to my original point. My brother-in-law will vote for McCain no matter what I say, because yes, it's his last stand so to speak, at least philosophically. The anthropologist in me ponders these things and comes up with what me & my colleagues have always come up to explain inexplicable behavior in groups of humans, behavior that is against their own best interest, behavior that is self-destructive: People don't want to admit that they're wrong.
(if this blog were a talkshow, instead of "Ah-ha!" moments, I would have "Duh" moments, and that was one of them.) Duh. Big dog double duh.
I mean, really, really, REALLY don't want to admit that they're wrong. Like, ever.
Not even when they're going over that cliff, headfirst, and the guy who they thought was their best friend PUSHED them and is now laughing his ass off up top, and holding your wallet, as well as your pants, because he ripped them off you first and told you this was skinny dippin'. They'll be yellin', "see you at the lake, Mac!" as they plunge 10,000 feet to their doom.
That's right, many people would literally rather die, than admit they're wrong.
Rural people especially don't want to feel like they're being told that their entire way of life is wrong, because they already get that feeling from pop culture. But they are by far, not the only ones. There's about 20% of people who cannot or will not bring themselves to think for a moment that even PART of their worldview might be based on false premises. That don't want to be told that it's not okay to be racist and it NEVER was. They don't want to hear that their behavior is inherently sexist and needs to change. They don't want to know that their old one-ton pickup truck is causing the polar icecaps to melt and maybe they should switch to biodiesel (grow your own!)
However,John McSame knows that rural people in pertickler feel picked on, and that's why he's telling them that they are right, for once. His message is that there's nothing wrong with being racist, or sexist, or extremely religion-ist, or a fun-lovin', atv-drivin', gun-totin' redneck. yeeha! That's what Ammurrka is all about, right?
So for the sake of pride, and ego, and saving face, this same 20% of the American population (most of them, my family) will vote for John McCain. It will be their last act of defiance as they're dragged, not into "that good night" but into the dawn of a new era. And once they get there, they will find plenty of hard work to please their spirits and plenty to be proud of, but precious little to whine about.
Especially taxes.
So this is what my sister-in-law brings up, as we're tucking in to our lovely roast beest and peppering the freshman nephew with questions; Taxes. I made a sarcastic comment that it wouldn't bother me too much if bro-in-law's (her husband, did I mention?) absentee ballot got lost in the mail. She replied, well at least he researches the issues, unlike most people who just see a commercial and then decide. I mumbled something about anyone who did a lick of research would know that McSame is not on their side. She retorted (and this is rare for her) that Bro-law would probably say the same about me, and didn't I realize that other people with different upbringings, religions, and income brackets would just not want to pay higher taxes? I looked at her like, HUH? Both eyebrows arched to the utmost. I started to say, uh, no, that's never made any sense to me and besides Obama's plan would give way more tax breaks to the middle class while Grampy's basically just continues the cornholing, but older, but she rattled off some more platitudes about "isn't it great that people can disagree in this country and still live together" while I checked her cranberry juice for drugs.
Perhaps I should direct her to my other blog, "No longer the difference between Coke and Pepsi." Or perhaps not.
No, I don't get the whining about taxes, because it's just that, a whine. It's a cover for people who can't bring themselves to vote for a black man, because in their hierarchical little brains, that puts a black man Above them somehow, and they can't have that.
They would literally rather die, and see their children sold into slavery for the Chinese, than admit they've been bamboozled, lied to, raped and then forced to pay for the rape kit- than vote for change.
So still, fear not, Obama will be President, and it will be great, but not perfect. We'll have a lot more of those Waco-style compounds springing up as the right-wing voters refuse to participate in the rebuilding of America and instead wall themselves off rather than admit that a black man is President, or place themselves in any way "subservient" to him. This is unfortunate, but may be a necessary step in our evolution as a country. Bruce the psychological-guy explains to me that integrally speaking, these people are still in the "orange" phase where everything's a hierarchy and the person "above" you is not your friend unless they look, act and talk just like you. We anthropologists have a better way of explaining it: they're operating from the lizard brain, or the reptilian cortex, which in more common terms houses the ego, and that great sin of pride. But this time, I sure hope no one gets killed. Especially children.
Fear Not! means having courage and an open, generous heart even in these difficult times. We can't mock those who aren't at our integral-level-of-consciousness yet (it's green, by the way). We need to let them know that our invitation to the Global Tiki Party of Hope is always open, come as you are. Bring the kids, bring the family! We need to SHOW them how much fun the new way is going to be aside from just preaching it. We need to empathize and agree that this Oil-Death Culture had everyone in a trance so that it was damn near impossible to even imagine another way of life. We need to let them know that they do have skills, and brains, and gifts to bring, and that we need those gifts. We need all the help we can get.
We also need to let them know, in no uncertain terms, that whining about your taxes when you're already rich, and on top of social heap, when people are dying, children are starving in our country or can't go to school, and close to half of all Americans have no reliable healthcare, and basically the corporations are drilling all of US, right here right now, - is totally unacceptable. Refuse to listen to that whine. Tell them "we are better than this" if you have to.
Yes, switching over and retooling our economy and entire way of life is going to be difficult, but as an anthropologist, I know we can do it. Not just hope, I KNOW WE CAN. Switch every building over to solar power in ten years? I KNOW we can. Switch and re-tool every car over to electric, which is powered by solar? Impossible? nay! I KNOW we can do it. Restore the wetlands along the entire Gulf Coast so that hurricanes are absorbed the way Nature intended? That's a big, muddy task but I KNOW we can do it. Try out s'more seemingly impossible tasks in your head, roll them around a little bit, let go of "how things are" right now, and see if you don't come up with KNOWING that we can do this.
Joe Strummer had a great quote on his radio show that I wish I had a soundbite of to play right now. He basically said, with a tone of wonder in his voice, "People can do ANYTHING. We're truly amazing. Anything they put their minds to- ANYTHING! Cure a disease, feed everyone, build the most amazing buildings on Earth- anything! And most people spend their lives telling themselves the lie they've heard from someone else- that they can't do it, that things are impossible, that no one can save the world. It's nonsense. It's simply not true."
I think I'll end with that. :)Joe Strummer at mike

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

FEAR NOT!

The DNC response to the Palin nomination:
http://s3.amazonaws.com/0SAJ7JN5VFAWT249NNR2.anigifdel/52655a293dd83d8907715bb13c7dc39d

I forgot to post that at the top of my last blog. Couldn't get the html for it, so click on that link! and laugh, heartily!

So anyway, now that we've all had a good laugh about this, let me break it down in more scientific, anthropological terms for everyone.
John McCain is really fockin' old.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22759611/ Even Chuck Norris says so, and I didn't realize he was still alive. (didn't he have a Death Wish, VI?)
Their campaign would be pathetic no matter who the Republican empty-suit was, put up to follow this legacy of corrupt liars thieves and murderers, but it's especially pathetic because after 26 years in the Senate, 8 of them voting in lockstep with Bush and ignoring the personal damage Rove inflicted on his family, he now has to pretend that he has nothing to do with the Bush administration. That he is, in fact, a "maverick" just because he says so, and boy, so does everyone else! Even on Fox! Where ya know, they're like "Fair and Balanced" and all. heh hehe.]
Everyone knows McCain is old, and tired, and most people also know that he is incredibly boring, all at the same time. Along with the boring old-man grumpiness, he's got that crotchety old man temper, which shows up every so often when he calls his pill-popping heiress wife a "cunt" in front of reporters and scolds her for dressing like a trollop. Whoa! That's some maverick marital action right there! Exciting! Nothing like my grandfather at all!
Oh wait- except it is a bit like one of my grandfathers, who was a raging alcoholic and couldn't hold a job and would come home and beat his wife and 12 children, until his wife got rid of him by blacklisting him as a Communist. Go Grandma! Wooo! Since he was living in exile in Seattle, I never met him, but still I'm pretty sure we don't want a President like that.
He's not only old, he's had every type of skin cancer you can think of, and has to get checked like, every week to make sure his dormant carcinomas don't implode or eat him alive. Not to be mean, but, christ almighty is that a nasty way to die. Apparently you can only stave it off for so long before it comes back FOR GOOD. And being the Senator from Arizona... welll... let's just say it's really hard to avoid the sun and mingle with your constituents at the same time (not that he ever does.)
Anyway.
This Palin puta is their proverbial last gasp of desperation/false hope. The glimmer will fade in a couple days, and the nails will be in their campaign coffin sometime after the VP debate. During which, Joe Biden will wipe the floor with her, while simultaneously giving her opportunities to dig herself out of the privy her "verbage" is in, because he's a gent. But she'll fail to take any of those opportunities to save herself, because she's so dumb and narrow-minded she wouldn't know a debating opportunity if it came up and bit her flabby ass, and left lipstick marks.
So let them have their moment of false hope, let them exult in their new "chicky la-la" as one conservative caller from Colorado Springs put it (on the Randi Rhodes show) and round about Halloween.... I think it will become obvious who's going to win this election in a landslide.
As Randi herself said, I just can't take this here McCain-Palin "campaign" seriously at all, and therefore you shouldn't take their supporters too seriously. Go ahead and laugh in their faces, but then clap them on the back and offer to buy them a beer, because the truth is, they know they need one.
Oh and do this too, because it's hilarious:
http://politsk.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah_13.html
This has been CHOP METH PALIN, signing off....

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

You Can Put Lipstick on a Pig-fokker, but it's Still a Pig-fokker.

Or as someone posted on a Newsweek comment page, "You can put lipstick on a filthy, lying, power abusing religious zealot, its still a republican."

Obama Has too Much Class to Call Sarah Palin a Pig , So I Will.
Sarah Palin is a the pig-fokkers' whore, a lying sack of pigshit, and Queen Pig of Hypocrites. She is also a lousy mother. And, it goes without saying, guns or no, I could completely kick her ass.

Sarah Palin, Miss-Informed America Pictures, Images and Photos
Miss-Informed for VP '08!
I'm not running for President of anything, so I can say these things. At least, for 50 -some more days I can. I'm posting this picture of her to illustrate a couple things, but the main one is that I want people to see FO' REAL how totally ludicrous it is to even imagine this woman as Vice President.
Take a good, hard look. Laughing yet? I am. Because while I realize that 20% of the American population is creamin' their jeans at the thought of this nasty bitch being in power, the rest of us are having a hard time taking this seriously. And that's as it should be. I've gotten a deluge of emails from every non-profit advocacy group I belong to or has my email address- from environmental to pro-choice to human rights, all are saying/screaming the same thing: Don't dismiss her as fluff! Be afraid! Be very afraid! Gads, ya know, I'm trying to empathize and do the right thing- but whilst searching my feelings (as Old Ben Kenobi advised me to do) - I certainly didn't come up with FEAR. Anywhere. On. The. List. Snorts of derision? Yes. Contempt? Check. Disgust with hypocrisy? You bet.
And really NARAL, NOW, Human Rights Watch- I'm surprised at you! Have you forgotten the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood's Litany Against Fear? You have? Ok I'll repost it for all to see:
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain."
Say that a few times, breathe. Let the fear seep out of you. Let the little Zen half-smile play about your lips.

Obama Chill

And git to visualizin' peeple! As my friend jen said so aptly, "Worry is praying for things you don't want." So without getting too hooky-dooky woo-woo on ya, let's concentrate on visualizing / praying for the things we DO want. Which is, if I'm not mistaken, Obama as President, Biden as his right-arm/bulldog, and the rest of us getting to the happy warrior work of turning this country around and getting it back on track. And thereby, saving the world. I've said this before a few times but I'll say it as often as necessary until the positive result is achieved.

Do whatever positive visualization works for you.
With this one, it's now including a defeated, humiliated Sarah Palin being impeached or recalled by the Alaskan citizens who used to "love" her, now disgusted by all the corruption, malfeasance, and double-talk coming out of her office.
On the other hand, I've been having visions and dreams for a few months now about the Obama family residing in the White House. Doing normal, everyday, Presidential things like waving to crowds and reporters as they disembark from Marine One on the South Lawn, the girls having sleep-overs and birthday parties at their place, Michelle Obama smudging the West Wing with tons of sacred sage to get the evil voodoo vibes out...oh but the best one was the dream I had of Barack Obama sitting at the desk in the Oval Office for the first time, smiling, joking, flashbulbs going off, Biden patting him on the back as he sat down, generally a happy, hopeful atmosphere.
That's a dream we don't need to wake up from. Also, in the background was Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground." Did i mention that already? That needs to be the Inaugural Ball theme, for real.
So I've had quite enough of the fear-mongering, thank you, and I think the American people are done with it too.
This doesn't mean, however, that I'm going to quit making fun of Sarah Palin, or pointing out their rank hypocrisy and flip-flops, and whorish daughters.
OH no. That's just par for the course. But I won't do it because I'm AFRAID of her, no, I'll do it because we all seriously need to laugh at the whole pathetic joke of the McCain campaign every damn day, and heartily, with gusto.
Besides if you have the hubris to accept the nomination as VP while knowing that you don't have a lick of experience or intelligence or character or judgment to do the job- to me that just screams, "bring it on!"
Photobucket

(An Open Letter to Sarah Palin Inc. that hasn't been vetted by Charlie Gibson)
"So you preach abstinence-only sex education and then your 17-year-old daughter gets knocked up by the local hockey jock. Hmmm. But you're proud of this, because it's YOUR daughter, and she's white, and christian, not like those unwashed brown heathens who are having too many kids they can't support. Hmmm. I've given this a lot of thought over the past week, searched my feelings thoroughly, and after quite a few snorts of derision and giggles of disbelief, I've decided that you can go fuck yourself and the horse you rode in on, bitch. That's right. I've been called a whore by the likes of you smug, self-righteous hypocritical bastard pieces of shit since about 1993, when Newt Gingrich & Co. hijacked Congress and declared war on the American people. That would include anyone who disagreed with him and his extremist, right-wing views, and that would include most women. Even nuns. Suddenly every female who thought they had the inherent right to control their own bodies and make their own life decisions were called stupid, dirty, filthy whores. So, right back atcha. And then some.
I don't wish ill for your daughter and her future child, because she's already in a world of hurt with a mother like you. And then there's your first-born son, shipping out for Iraq right now because.. he's such a big patriot, right? At the age of 18, he's decided that this Occupation in the Middle East is totally awesome and he wants a piece of it? No? It's actually because he got caught stealing liquor and vandalizing school buses in Wasilla, and law enforcement gave him the choice: either join the Army, or go to jail? Ohhhhhh.... well that's different. So how is Track? Oh you don't know, because he won't even be seen with you these days? Haven't spoken in months? Sounds like the lad's got a good head on his shoulders, and the Army might straighten him out. Since I've been estranged from my parents for going on 8 years now, let me tell you something straight: kids don't kick off their parents for whiny little reasons. The reason usually is, in some shape or form, that they realize their parents are big-ass liars and don't love them at all, and probably won't ever change. So rather than put up with the lies and bullcrap and let it damage them into adulthood, they "divorce" themselves from your narcissistic b.s. and make their own way. Looking back, I wish I had been as smart as Track and joined the Navy or something, at his age.
Then there's the middle kids, who haven't really done anything criminal yet, but there's still time. Oh and another thing about my lying-ass, abusive parents: crazy and messed up as they were, they would have considered themselves total failures as parents if one of us had ended up either pregnant or in jail. We didn't, in spite of them. You've got two kids doing both, and it doesn't seem to faze you. And apparently, that's just the tip of your narcissistic iceberg, because you just accepted the potential job of being VP for the most powerful country on Earth, only 4 months after giving birth to a special needs child. Whoa.
Again, here's something I can spout off on because I have a little experience in this area. Even with my PERFECT (physically and mentally) baby girl, it was the most difficult thing I've ever done to drag my ass back to work 3 months after she was born, and my job is basically educated DATA ENTRY. More difficult than pulling 20-hour shifts fighting forest fires, more difficult than taking care of my dad and brother, as a child, after one of my mom's numerous suicide attempts, more difficult even, than putting myself through college by working 3 jobs and finishing it all in 2.5 years flat. At least in college, there were the occasional margarita breaks.
And one of those jobs, during and after college, happened to be working with special needs children. Down's Syndrome kids especially. HOLY GODS ALMIGHTY but do they need a lot of early intervention, intensive care, and real love, not fake love.
No, you can't do it well and skin a moose at the same time, let alone be Vice President. Nope. Can't be done. You have to make a choice, a moral choice, and it's clear that time and time again, you've chosen your career and unholy ambition above all else. This makes you and McCain perfect for each other http://www.snopes.com/politics/mccain/carol.asp
but, that alone should tell people something about you.
Not that they should be afraid of you, but quite the opposite. They should openly scoff at your phoniness, your hypocrisy, and your corruption of spirit, and they should do so without fear of being called "sexist" or "mean."
So Miss Runner-Up 1984, you may be the redneck's wet dream of a VP candidate, a politician he can put a pin-up of in the garage and whack off to while the Star Spangled Banner blares from his monster truck speakers- but the rest of us will be smiling and waving from the Winner's Circle, which is known as the Oval Office in this case. That's right bitch, I've never been no "runner-up", I've always been The Queen.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

The Official Post-DNC Volunteer Blog!

Tom Daschle Curbside!

That's right, I didn't want to start off with the big "WOW" photo, but what the heck!  I mean, this is the back of Tom Daschle's head we're talking about!  I was assigned to the "Meet and Greet Team" at DIA on Sunday, August 24th, the day before the convention started and let me tell you- it was this exciting ALL DAY LONG.
As they say in whispered tones backstage at Miss America "The excitement back here is at FEVER PITCH."  Seriously.  It's like we were behind the scenes and out front as the delegates' and dignitaries' first contact with friendly-ass Denver ALL AT THE SAME TIME.  It was a heady responsibility, and sometimes we had to retire to the Official Volunteer Breakroom just to have fatty snacks to stop the dizziness.
VolunteerBreakRoom
Here's the non-wow picture of some volunteer, I mean, uh, my fellow comrade volunteer's head getting in the way of cute, super-nice Tom Daschle, so I couldn't yell out to him, "my family's from South Dakota and we thank you!!'  Alas.
Curbside at DIA 8-24-08
..And here's how it looked from the front once all us kats got herded in for a group picture...
Me Behind Tom Daschle
I'm behind him.  See if you can spot me. 
And then I got re-assigned to be a "wrangler" for catching any stray delegates that may have wandered past the huge throng of us bright-orange-shirted, WELCOME sign waving freaks by the fountain on the main concourse (where the subway trains all empty out) so I must have missed this guy- doh!
Al Gore!
I like to think I was, at this moment, waving and saying Hi! to Amy Goodman on the main concourse as she walked by, ungreeted, talking on her cell phone.  I recognized her, waved my Welcome sign, shouted, Amy Goodman!  Hi! Welcome to Denver! and the magic worked, because she said "Hi..." back (the dots after that are code for, "do I know this crazy woman?"  Democracy dork that I am, Amy Goodman, esteemed yet humble host of Democracy Now!, is one of my heroes.  I don't regret NOT going into journalism too many times, but every time I hear her reporting, there's a wee pang of remorse in my heart, for what might have been. Also, as everyone knows who has finally or suddenly gotten to see one of their heroes or favorite celebrities in real life, you will do any dad-blame goofy thing to get their attention without hopefully intruding too much on their personal space.  But I had an excuse, I had a bright orange t-shirt, and a big sign.  So.  It would have been rude of me to whip out my cellphone and try to take a picture of her, so I stole one off Flickr.  She looked  something like  this, except in an airport, and wearing different clothes. 
Amy goodman
But back to Al Gore, whose arrival at DIA I missed.  That probably explains the puzzled and somewhat pained look on his face in this next photo, where he's surrounded by enthusiastic, warm volunteers, but he's clearly thinking,  "where's Suzy? I thought she would be here....."
Greet Al Gore!
And then, horror of horrors, he had to climb into the big black SUV that was assigned and waiting for him.  Sure, they were all hybrid flex-fuels, donated by GM, but still- how did  he feel, climbing into that thing?
Al Gore's SUV
Hmmm.......
Anyway.  After Amy Goodman said Hi! to me, I was blase about Sam Donaldson and his wife walking by me.  I mean, how can that man still call himself a journalist, with the likes of Amy Goodman in the same amphitheatre?
Then it was back up to Curbside to meet Rep. Charlie Rangel (D-NY) and his entourage- woooo!!  Serious woo.  He is the utterer of  one of my favorite quotes re: Bush, which I have as a screensaver at work: "Welll.... I guess Bush finally disproves that whole theory of 'White Supremacy' once and for all, doesn't he?" 
Here's the group pic from Penny, who put them all on Flickr.
Charlie Rangel!
Not to give too much away, but I'm the floating head behind Mr. Rangel, wearing sunglasses.  Wooooo!  I just had to say that again. 
As far as other political celebrities, I also got to meet Former Speaker of the House Jim Wright, of Texas, who is getting on in years but an extremely nice man, and SO excited to be there to help elect our next Democratic President!  If anyone remembers, he was Speaker for 2 years (1987-1989) during the Reagan Administration, and was trying to hold them more accountable for all that Iran-Contra crap, until Newt Gingrich went after him on charges of "unethical conduct" (Wright was selling books he authored at private speaking engagements...known as book-signings.... yeah, throw that bum out! how dare he! That's much worse than torturing prisoners, obstructing justice and starting a huge war on a lie!)  and he resigned.  Very nice man.
I also got to meet Rep. Nydia Velasquez, D-NY, who  introduced herself as the first Puerto Rican woman elected to Congress, and she's been there 16 years now so she must be doing something right.  She was stunning, very nice,  and the poor thing had to wait at least 45 minutes for her stupid rental car to show up.  We kept trying to entice her into one of the hybrid SUV's, but I guess the car was on its way, so she chatted with volunteers and called her staff on her cell phone.
There were probably other people I saw or met that I'm forgetting about, but towards the end of the shift when I was dead on my feet, I finally got to escort a VIP to baggage claim and to his waiting DNC car... and at first I didn't know who he was except another smart, handsome, nice Democrat dude... and then I googled him and oh snap!  He's a total stud! 
Former Navy Rear Admiral John D. Hutson, former Judge Advocate General for the Navy, now Dean of the Law School at Franklin Pierce College in NH.... and an expert on why we shouldn't be violating Geneva Conventions and torturing prisoners- because it makes OUR soldiers less safe, and all bets are off.  He testified against confirming Alberto Gonzales as Attorney General based on his abhorrent record and views on torture. John Hutson
http://www.fplc.edu/johnhutson/

Dang me!  He was very unassuming, pleasant, polite, and in a hurry to get to his hotel as it was getting mighty late.  He mentioned that he was speaking on the first day of the convention, then going to a human rights panel, then some other thing, then off to his nephew's wedding.   It was a nice way to cap off the night.  Then a group of us volunteers whose shifts were over were whisked back to the DNC motorpool lot to our cars, and Peeps called me to tell me he'd found a lost doggie and was personally walking him down to the Pound. :) 
The next day was my birthday and the start of the Convention.  I was determined to see some action up close, so I loaded little girl into the bike trailer after her nap and biked on  down to  the Pepsi Center area, with cupcakes in hand to give away.  The original plan was to give them to Randi Rhodes, but security proved too tight, so I settled for calling into her show to welcome her to Denver and complain about the g-d trustfunder protestors. :)  I had about 10 delicious, wheat-free mini-cupcakes to unload (with sparkly frosting stars on top) and so after being turned away by armed guards at the gates, rode up to the Market st. bridge where the delegates were streaming past on their way to the Pepsi Center, and started hollerin' like a true carny, "Happy My Birthday! Have a free Cupcake!"  And can you believe it?  No one took them except a tired looking guy hawking t-shirts.  Come to think of it, I  probably wouldn't take a cupcake from a stranger either.  Not even the nice woman who also hung out near me on her bike for awhile and chatted would take one.  "I'm trying to lose weight, actually" (she was slender and fit).  Harumph.  Then some guys from CNN came up and took a picture of my t-shirt, which is an Environmentalists for Obama shirt, which they claim they'd never seen before.  It didn't make it into the little "slideshow" thingy though, so maybe the guy was just trying to get a close-up of my rack. 
http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/08/26/slideshow.buttons/index.html

Darn, that was going to be my closer, but I can't top Peeps' blog anyway so I'll just stop there and go to bed.   But wait!  Wait!  More about Amy Goodman! So tonite on Democracy Now! on PBS, she aired an impromptu interview she had with Jon Stewart of the Daily Show, at baggage claim in Minneapolis airport. During said interview (which was awesome) she remarked to him, "ya know, the atmosphere here is very different than Denver (where they all just came from)- in Denver they had all kinds of people welcoming you and making sure you got where you were going..." That's ME she's talking about people, ME!!! Yours truly! I ALONE am responsible for Amy Goodman having a good impression of Denver and the DNC in general!  So.  Anyway Jon Stewart said, "yeah, there's almost a sense of shame in the air here, like they'd rather not be hosting this at all...."  and then a lot of other really funny and astute stuff.
That's it for now- until another unofficial unconvention comes along- this is the Queen, signing off!  Good night and good luck.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Optimism is a Moral Imperative

My husband gets credit for this awesome tagline. We were discussing the perilous possibilities of the future vis-a-vis the upcoming election while waiting in a line of cars for the drive-in last Saturday (my early bday present). While writing the "Impeachment" blog last week, literally mid-way through, I realized that even warning people about what COULD happen if we don't impeach Clownshoes right now is feeding the fear out there, and what we need to do more of is concentrate on the positive visualization thing. Hence, my positive visuals of Jenna Bush in a waitress uniform and Karl Rove getting cornholed in prison. :) (smiley emoticon face)
Bruce also summed up the whole metaphysics-quantum physics thing with an anecdote about a realization he had during a psychedelic experience: (according to polls, I've just lost about 30% of you. oh well.) Anything that can happen, does happen. It's the reality that you choose to live in that you live in. I'm not saying it's an entirely conscious choice, or that blame should be placed anywhere (get OUT of our heads you damn Puritans with your F-ing Providence!!)- because most of us, most of the time, feel like we're falling down the rabbit hole and that we were pushed.
But. Make no mistake, consciousness has real power. Recently I've come to believe that the major decisions we make and act upon do, in effect, create whole new worlds. Parallel universes, if you will. You either walk through this door, or that one. You marry this guy, or that guy. You forget about that and pursue a career. But somewhere out there is the "you" that made the other choice. This is what mystics and quantum physicists are talking about when they say The Universe is Full of Infinite Possibility. And at the same time, it is empty, with possibility.
(according to polls I've just lost another 20% of you.)
Right now we're all living in the universe of people who have made the decisions that they have made. Duh, right? It's a wacky, complex subject to explain, so books and movies make it easier. One set of science-fiction books I especially like on the subject is the "Hominids/Hybrids" series by Robert Sawyer, on the parallel universe where Neanderthals survived instead of us Homo Sapiens. As an anthro-geek I especially loved them, but I think anybody could get into them- and he does a great job of explaining the whole consciousness shift/parallel universe thing. It had me convinced, anyway. Some simpler/more fantastical ones are the movies "The Family Man," "Sliding Doors," and of course, "It's A Wonderful Life." Watch or read one of those if I've lost you already, and then come back.
Ok, everybody here? Cool. So it stands to reason, from what we've just learned and what we've known all our lives, that our future is a conscious choice. Nothing is "inevitable" (god how I hate that word!) and nothing is impossible. Given that, and now we know that we're in complete control of our futures, the logical and morally sound choice is to point all of our collective consciousnesses (is that really a word?) towards the positive. Allow yourself to imagine the best possible outcome of the upcoming election, the ensuing investigations of this criminal administration, and basically a future so bright (powered by solar energy) you gotta wear shades. That takes many different shapes for different people, so, unless you're a sociopath, go wild. :) For me it's being able to build my xeriscaping empire and remaking the business world with a new model that's socially inclusive, green to the 158th power, and revolutionary in that all "profits" are plowed back into the earth and the community. Also, I'm an award-winning filmmaker and writer. And not only will my 2 year old daughter NOT be a slave to the Chinese, she'll also get to pursue her abilities to their utmost, and possibly run for President someday, if she wants to. There are no more abused children, no more starving people, no more anyone without access to capital and clean water. Global warming has stopped, and we're starting to reverse its effects. The green technologies and localized businesses are thriving, and everyone is choosing to plow their profits back into the community, so that their livelihoods are sustainable for many generations to come.
Oh and we're also whizzing around in those cool hover-craft cubes that the Neanderthals have.
Why not?? I think all this is possible. The whiners may disagree, they're usually the first to whine, "oh you want the whole world to hold hands and sing Kumbaya." Um, no, I've always hated that song. I'm not a Utopianist, I'm an anthropologist, and I know we'll always have conflict in a world with this many people and limited resources. But if you use just a wee bit of your imagination, it's not hard to visualize a better, more sustainable way to solve those conflicts. Sure, it's easier to just go on doing things the way we've always done them, but that way will surely kill us. I realize that these entrenched habits are hard to break away from, but break away we must. As an anthropologist and all-around "aware" person, I know that the current way we live is unsustainable- so it must end, somehow. The question is, and I put this to all whiners who say "it can't happen, humanity will never change" do you want to do this the nice, civil way, or do you want to do this the hard way? We can perform our revolution at the voting box and make sure it's not stolen this time, or if they try and fuck with us again we can rise up and make them regret it. Either way, the patriarchy is going down. Right now I'm envisioning a non-violent end to all the lies and destruction, but I know there's quite a few people out there who can imagine only violence, because that's all they know- their imaginations have been starved nearly to death by the media, bad Steven Seagal flicks, and the "news" vampires which thrive on blood.
I'm not expecting Mr. Obama to be the perfect President to all people, but I am expecting him to be President, and to succeed in the monumental task of empowering us all to turn this country around. I know it will happen. Get on board and all the hard work and consciousness changing will be a lot easier to swallow. As the man himself has said a few times in answer to the question, "Can we do this? Yes we can!"
Or as Jesus just said to me, "Hey-all yeah!" (but he was all fired up after watching the Hillary speech. Go figure.) Tell me your dreams for the future with all the beautiful details in your responses, por favor. Por ejemplo, I'm already picturing the hemp/nomex gown I'll be wearing to accept my Oscar, and gathering quotes from various women/girls to use in my speech. Ridiculous? I think not!

Proximal Vs. Ultimal cause

There's a concept in anthropology called "Ultimal vs. Proximal Cause " Ultimal meaning "if you keep doing that, ultima...