Why they're called "Blood Diamonds"
I've heard the phrase "blood diamonds" for as long as I've been a rockhound/amateur jeweler. When I looked into the story behind the name, I was horrified. I started a campaign (that continues to this day) to educate all and sundry. I'd like to see colored gems in engagement rings. First of all, they're pretty. Secondly, there's a greater selection. Third, it would put an end to THIS.
Thank you, Alien Nation, for giving me more fuel for my fire. I've been so wrapped up in the same sex marriage debate, that I'd forgotten my crusade. Thus, with my skin all broken out in goosebumps, I say again: Don't buy diamonds. If you must buy them, make sure you know which country they came from. Buy diamonds that were mined in Canada, America, Russia, even China. Thai diamonds are fine. Vietnam, Cambodia, Korea and Malaysia -they have their problems, but they don't have the blood of entire villages attached to their gemstones. Please, please, please don't buy blood diamonds.
They rape 3 year olds with their gun barrels, for gods sake. Just so they can keep their countries mineral wealth. Don't buy diamonds.
Friday, February 27, 2004
Rant rant rant
"The union of a man and a woman is the most enduring human institution, honored and encouraged in all cultures and by every religious faith," Bush said.
"Marriage cannot be severed from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening the good influence of society."
BULLSHIT! I can understand the common, barely educated American buying this stuff. I understand that resistance is a gut reaction. Hate and fear beget more hate and fear. It's normal. And we have self awareness. We have intelligence. We have logical minds that can overide our gut responses. Society teaches us control of our gut reactions. We choose to control our emotional responses because of the greater benefits of friendship, community and yes, strength in numbers. Yet, being human, we continue to respond on an emotional level. Look how I just ranted an entire paragraph from my gut.
Now then, the union of a man and a woman is not the most enduring human institution. It is not honored and encouraged in all cultures, or by every religious faith. Let's take a little walk through history as we know it.
Wikipedia online encyclopedia claims that marriage is generally considered to be the union of one man and one woman, i.e., husband and wife. But if you scroll down past the table of contents, you'll read this: "In most societies, marriage was polygynic, where a man could have multiple wives..."
There's a bit more to it than that. Throughout history, a person in a position of power -for example a king or queen- would take multiple husbands or wives. True, it was always someone of the opposite sex. This made sense, of course. Each new spouse was a link to another country, and a chance for the perpetuation of power. However; in nearly all ancient societies, people would reproduce with the opposite sex, but have lovers of the same sex. You would have been considered strange if you didn't have at least one same sex lover. This was especially common with conquest based cultures. again, it just made sense. Having a lover within your ranks brought a share of power, gave you a focus for your energies, created camraderie and provided a tangible hope for the future. The pain of loss could be eased by another lover, who had also experienced loss.
I can see why having same sex lovers was pushed aside during long stretches of peace. I can see where it became a less acceptable lifestyle. Women wanted babies, and they wanted all of the power (and the monetary security that came with it) to pass on to the next generation. Yet these same women had plenty of woman lovers while the men were at war. That bit of history always repeats itself. I surmise that most people are inherently bi-sexual. We long for partnership, aside from the longing to create new generations; and we will find partnership with people of either sex.
My personal preference is for men. If all the men in the world dissappeared, I would find a woman to love me. A vibrator does not -cannot- love. I even think that if all the attractive men vanished, I'd find a woman. I'm not likely to ever know. There are lots of hairy, smelly men around.
Excuse my rambling, please. Back to the subject. Several present day religious groups support multiple person marriages. Most of them say the wives should treat each other like partners. Religious writings codify how these spouses (spice) should treat each other, and even cover the reproduction issue. They discuss how to deal with one's wives preferring each other over their joint husband. I don't see those writings vilifying homosexuality. I see them acknowledging it, and still providing for the continuation of the species.
To reiterate: The union of a man and a woman is not the most enduring human institution. Bi-sexuality is. It is not honored and encouraged in all cultures or faiths. Union is honored and encouraged. Reproduction of healthy human beings is honored and encouraged. Monogamy between one man and one woman is only honored and encouraged in certain religions.
Get your facts straight, Mr. President, before you open your mouth.
"The union of a man and a woman is the most enduring human institution, honored and encouraged in all cultures and by every religious faith," Bush said.
"Marriage cannot be severed from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening the good influence of society."
BULLSHIT! I can understand the common, barely educated American buying this stuff. I understand that resistance is a gut reaction. Hate and fear beget more hate and fear. It's normal. And we have self awareness. We have intelligence. We have logical minds that can overide our gut responses. Society teaches us control of our gut reactions. We choose to control our emotional responses because of the greater benefits of friendship, community and yes, strength in numbers. Yet, being human, we continue to respond on an emotional level. Look how I just ranted an entire paragraph from my gut.
Now then, the union of a man and a woman is not the most enduring human institution. It is not honored and encouraged in all cultures, or by every religious faith. Let's take a little walk through history as we know it.
Wikipedia online encyclopedia claims that marriage is generally considered to be the union of one man and one woman, i.e., husband and wife. But if you scroll down past the table of contents, you'll read this: "In most societies, marriage was polygynic, where a man could have multiple wives..."
There's a bit more to it than that. Throughout history, a person in a position of power -for example a king or queen- would take multiple husbands or wives. True, it was always someone of the opposite sex. This made sense, of course. Each new spouse was a link to another country, and a chance for the perpetuation of power. However; in nearly all ancient societies, people would reproduce with the opposite sex, but have lovers of the same sex. You would have been considered strange if you didn't have at least one same sex lover. This was especially common with conquest based cultures. again, it just made sense. Having a lover within your ranks brought a share of power, gave you a focus for your energies, created camraderie and provided a tangible hope for the future. The pain of loss could be eased by another lover, who had also experienced loss.
I can see why having same sex lovers was pushed aside during long stretches of peace. I can see where it became a less acceptable lifestyle. Women wanted babies, and they wanted all of the power (and the monetary security that came with it) to pass on to the next generation. Yet these same women had plenty of woman lovers while the men were at war. That bit of history always repeats itself. I surmise that most people are inherently bi-sexual. We long for partnership, aside from the longing to create new generations; and we will find partnership with people of either sex.
My personal preference is for men. If all the men in the world dissappeared, I would find a woman to love me. A vibrator does not -cannot- love. I even think that if all the attractive men vanished, I'd find a woman. I'm not likely to ever know. There are lots of hairy, smelly men around.
Excuse my rambling, please. Back to the subject. Several present day religious groups support multiple person marriages. Most of them say the wives should treat each other like partners. Religious writings codify how these spouses (spice) should treat each other, and even cover the reproduction issue. They discuss how to deal with one's wives preferring each other over their joint husband. I don't see those writings vilifying homosexuality. I see them acknowledging it, and still providing for the continuation of the species.
To reiterate: The union of a man and a woman is not the most enduring human institution. Bi-sexuality is. It is not honored and encouraged in all cultures or faiths. Union is honored and encouraged. Reproduction of healthy human beings is honored and encouraged. Monogamy between one man and one woman is only honored and encouraged in certain religions.
Get your facts straight, Mr. President, before you open your mouth.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Kerry Protest Pics Are Fake
Ok, so I haven't really watched the news recently; but I should have known this anyway.
The Guardian knows it.
Slashdot knows it.
even Snopes knows it.
Why does a Google News search show every country but America talking about this?
Oh yeah, and that supposed affair? Never happened.
Let's play nice, kiddies!
Ok, so I haven't really watched the news recently; but I should have known this anyway.
The Guardian knows it.
Slashdot knows it.
even Snopes knows it.
Why does a Google News search show every country but America talking about this?
Oh yeah, and that supposed affair? Never happened.
Let's play nice, kiddies!
I love this time of year
Yesterday, as I walked to the truck to get my son from school; I spotted a robin. "That's it", I thought, "Winter's over." We could get more snow. We could even get more ice, but the presence of robins means no more hard freezes.
The sparrows think so too. Today they were singing out their territory calls. "I'm here! Girls,girls,girls,girls, I'm here!" Soon the jays will be fighting for the best trees. The cardinals will stake out turf near the bird feeders; so as to get the best sunflower seeds. The neighborhood will be filled with splashes of color. In a month or so, the birds of prey will figure out that there's an abundance of food here; and I'll get to see the hawks and falcons.
The first year we lived here, I got to see bats up close. I also met the groundhog that lives under the porch 2 doors down. The next year I saw a turkey, bald eagles and a skunk. Can you believe I live in a city? I wonder what new critters I'll see this year.
Yesterday, as I walked to the truck to get my son from school; I spotted a robin. "That's it", I thought, "Winter's over." We could get more snow. We could even get more ice, but the presence of robins means no more hard freezes.
The sparrows think so too. Today they were singing out their territory calls. "I'm here! Girls,girls,girls,girls, I'm here!" Soon the jays will be fighting for the best trees. The cardinals will stake out turf near the bird feeders; so as to get the best sunflower seeds. The neighborhood will be filled with splashes of color. In a month or so, the birds of prey will figure out that there's an abundance of food here; and I'll get to see the hawks and falcons.
The first year we lived here, I got to see bats up close. I also met the groundhog that lives under the porch 2 doors down. The next year I saw a turkey, bald eagles and a skunk. Can you believe I live in a city? I wonder what new critters I'll see this year.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Something to think about
Zombyboy of RessurectionSong ponders whether same sex marriage is a civil rights issue, or not. Before I get into my own commentary, I want to point out two things right up front:
1. Zombyboy says some very positive things, including this. "I think that America, and marriage, are both big enough to endure benefit from extending the privilege of marriage to the gay and lesbian community."
2. I know RessurectionSong is one of the BIG blogs, and I'm not trying to glean any hits from the site. He brought up some points that gave me the impetus to write.
Ok then. Zombyboy writes "In what way is it a civil rights violation to say that there are rules for entering into a specific kind of contract and if you do not meet those eligibility requirements you are being discriminated against?"
Well, lets see. Buying a house is a specific kind of contract. There was a time in America when certain people were ineligible to own property. That was modified into certain people being ineligible to own real property; as in real estate. That was modified again to be that certain people could only own real property in certain neighborhoods.
I've studied real estate law thoroughly. These people did not meet the recognized eligibility requirements due to their ethnic heritage. Nonetheless, they were discriminated against.
So here's the thorny problem. Some believe that homosexuality is a choice. No one says that ethnic heritage is a choice. Yet there was a space of nearly 100 years between the Emancipation Proclamation and the legal right for African Americans to buy property in any neighborhood. Do we really have to wait a century or more for this to be considered a civil rights issue?
Zombyboy of RessurectionSong ponders whether same sex marriage is a civil rights issue, or not. Before I get into my own commentary, I want to point out two things right up front:
1. Zombyboy says some very positive things, including this. "I think that America, and marriage, are both big enough to endure benefit from extending the privilege of marriage to the gay and lesbian community."
2. I know RessurectionSong is one of the BIG blogs, and I'm not trying to glean any hits from the site. He brought up some points that gave me the impetus to write.
Ok then. Zombyboy writes "In what way is it a civil rights violation to say that there are rules for entering into a specific kind of contract and if you do not meet those eligibility requirements you are being discriminated against?"
Well, lets see. Buying a house is a specific kind of contract. There was a time in America when certain people were ineligible to own property. That was modified into certain people being ineligible to own real property; as in real estate. That was modified again to be that certain people could only own real property in certain neighborhoods.
I've studied real estate law thoroughly. These people did not meet the recognized eligibility requirements due to their ethnic heritage. Nonetheless, they were discriminated against.
So here's the thorny problem. Some believe that homosexuality is a choice. No one says that ethnic heritage is a choice. Yet there was a space of nearly 100 years between the Emancipation Proclamation and the legal right for African Americans to buy property in any neighborhood. Do we really have to wait a century or more for this to be considered a civil rights issue?
Monday, February 23, 2004
Tracking Marriage Proposals
heh. Marriage proposal... get it?
Victoria Dunlap, a county clerk in BERNALILLO, NEW MEXICO issued 66 same sex marriage lisences on Friday. Today she issued refunds, or recorded the licenses that were presented to her.
GEORGIA's senate debates the issue.
Republicans in INDIANA are refusing to come to the floor of the House as long as same sex marriage is upen for debate.
MICHIGAN has some pretty vocal people (with blinders on!) in this article.
Two FLORIDA men are suing for the right to marry.
And SAN FRANCISCO keeps marching on...
heh. Marriage proposal... get it?
Victoria Dunlap, a county clerk in BERNALILLO, NEW MEXICO issued 66 same sex marriage lisences on Friday. Today she issued refunds, or recorded the licenses that were presented to her.
GEORGIA's senate debates the issue.
Republicans in INDIANA are refusing to come to the floor of the House as long as same sex marriage is upen for debate.
MICHIGAN has some pretty vocal people (with blinders on!) in this article.
Two FLORIDA men are suing for the right to marry.
And SAN FRANCISCO keeps marching on...
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Wednesday
This morning, Hubby said, "I'm done with smoking. And I'm quitting Pepsi, too." I refrained from asking, "Who are you, and what have you done with my Hubby?"
NPR mentioned that people are still getting married in San Francisco. It reminded me of Badger's comment that her friends flew to San Francisco to get married. My thoughts went through the history of people standing up for their rights, and I was moved. I'm always moved when I think about such things.
There is no reason to be threatened by someone elses partnership. There is every reason to stand up and ask for equal rights for everyone. Not "seperate but equal", just plain equal. Heterosexuals need to stand up for the rights of all adults to marry.
And finally, St. Louis has registered 32,000 new voters since July.
This morning, Hubby said, "I'm done with smoking. And I'm quitting Pepsi, too." I refrained from asking, "Who are you, and what have you done with my Hubby?"
NPR mentioned that people are still getting married in San Francisco. It reminded me of Badger's comment that her friends flew to San Francisco to get married. My thoughts went through the history of people standing up for their rights, and I was moved. I'm always moved when I think about such things.
There is no reason to be threatened by someone elses partnership. There is every reason to stand up and ask for equal rights for everyone. Not "seperate but equal", just plain equal. Heterosexuals need to stand up for the rights of all adults to marry.
And finally, St. Louis has registered 32,000 new voters since July.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
Get this party started
It's 4:26 pm. I am late for a party. I was supposed to bring the massage table, and I'm not going to. See, last week I bumped my knee on the refrigerator. I knew I'd done some serious damage when the limits-of-my-threshold pain subsided, thanks to endorphins. Because I'm an idiot, and refuse to accept it when I'm hurt, I rushed to Persephone's house to get the coffee I'd left there. I knew I had less than an hour before the endorphins wore off. Once home, I smeared comfrey all over my knee and hoped for the best. The comfrey only lasted a few hours. Next I tried ibuprofen. I took 3, where I usually take one, and smeared comfrey all over the knee again. I amused myself by watching the bruise grow and poking at the puffiness around it. The ibuprofen only lasted a few hours. Ok, now I knew I'd done serious serious damage.
I thought, "It's not broken, I can still walk on it. I didn't tear anything, I can still walk on it... I don't need an x-ray, I can still walk on it." etc.
We have a variety of prescription painkillers in the house, because Hubby has degenerative disk disease in his neck. He offered me valium and percocet, but I refused. I had to drive L to school in the morning. So I dosed myself with Ny-Quil and went to bed. The next day was bad, but what can ya do? I pushed on. That night, ibuprofen and comfrey were my friends again. At least until I woke at 4:08 am. It felt like my kneecap was split in two. I spent the next 2 1/2 hours trying to meditate the pain away enough to make it to the medicine cabinet. When I finally stood up, those good old endorphins kicked in, so I used the time to rush L to school and make it back to the sofa. My whole week has been like that. Meditation, medication and pain receptor overload. I really want to massage! And I'd be a fool to try it on one leg. I had 3 lined up this week, the most customers I've had in months! dammit. We don't need the cash, yet I really wanted the work. I like to work.
Yesterday, my body let me know it had had enough. I got my first ever migraine. Ibuprofen and peppermint oil made it bearable, but it was the final straw. I called Persephone and canceled on the massages. I still baked a batch of chocolate covered espresso cookies, though. I'm wondering if I can just drop them off and get out. I know Persephone will understand, but I feel like I'm letting her down big time.
It's been a week! I should be fine!
and I'm not
and I hate it
and I don't want to go to the doctor, get yet another x-ray of my knee, and be given a bunch of pain pills I probably won't take.
Because I'm stubborn that way.
It's 4:26 pm. I am late for a party. I was supposed to bring the massage table, and I'm not going to. See, last week I bumped my knee on the refrigerator. I knew I'd done some serious damage when the limits-of-my-threshold pain subsided, thanks to endorphins. Because I'm an idiot, and refuse to accept it when I'm hurt, I rushed to Persephone's house to get the coffee I'd left there. I knew I had less than an hour before the endorphins wore off. Once home, I smeared comfrey all over my knee and hoped for the best. The comfrey only lasted a few hours. Next I tried ibuprofen. I took 3, where I usually take one, and smeared comfrey all over the knee again. I amused myself by watching the bruise grow and poking at the puffiness around it. The ibuprofen only lasted a few hours. Ok, now I knew I'd done serious serious damage.
I thought, "It's not broken, I can still walk on it. I didn't tear anything, I can still walk on it... I don't need an x-ray, I can still walk on it." etc.
We have a variety of prescription painkillers in the house, because Hubby has degenerative disk disease in his neck. He offered me valium and percocet, but I refused. I had to drive L to school in the morning. So I dosed myself with Ny-Quil and went to bed. The next day was bad, but what can ya do? I pushed on. That night, ibuprofen and comfrey were my friends again. At least until I woke at 4:08 am. It felt like my kneecap was split in two. I spent the next 2 1/2 hours trying to meditate the pain away enough to make it to the medicine cabinet. When I finally stood up, those good old endorphins kicked in, so I used the time to rush L to school and make it back to the sofa. My whole week has been like that. Meditation, medication and pain receptor overload. I really want to massage! And I'd be a fool to try it on one leg. I had 3 lined up this week, the most customers I've had in months! dammit. We don't need the cash, yet I really wanted the work. I like to work.
Yesterday, my body let me know it had had enough. I got my first ever migraine. Ibuprofen and peppermint oil made it bearable, but it was the final straw. I called Persephone and canceled on the massages. I still baked a batch of chocolate covered espresso cookies, though. I'm wondering if I can just drop them off and get out. I know Persephone will understand, but I feel like I'm letting her down big time.
It's been a week! I should be fine!
and I'm not
and I hate it
and I don't want to go to the doctor, get yet another x-ray of my knee, and be given a bunch of pain pills I probably won't take.
Because I'm stubborn that way.
Friday, February 13, 2004
No Working Title
There's a fascinating debate going on at The Soulful Blogger.
It began with a post on The Sick Soul, which was read by Joe -author of The Soulful Blogger. Joe wrote his opinions on his blog, which began The Great Debate on anal sex. In and amongst the truly eloquent commenting, are a few things I want to write at length about:
On the entire thread: Why do some people regard sex as a non-worthwhile thing?
Josh S said: There's no such thing as a "gay married couple." Mutual consent, sexual attraction, and commitment aren't sufficient causes for a marriage.
??? My heterosexual marriage is based on mutual consent, sexual attraction, and commitment. What's yours based on? I've known some really screwed up people who came from parents who's marriage was based on procreation.
Tess argues: Ironically female oral sex to climax is just fine, since it isn't vital to fertility.
Actually, female climax is vital to fertility. Climax produces fluids which make the vagina a habitable region for sperm. Climax also causes the cervix to spasm, which draws the semen into the uteris. If it's all about procreation, then you're wasting valuable resources and chemical energy every time you don't conceive.
(sigh)
There's a fascinating debate going on at The Soulful Blogger.
It began with a post on The Sick Soul, which was read by Joe -author of The Soulful Blogger. Joe wrote his opinions on his blog, which began The Great Debate on anal sex. In and amongst the truly eloquent commenting, are a few things I want to write at length about:
On the entire thread: Why do some people regard sex as a non-worthwhile thing?
Josh S said: There's no such thing as a "gay married couple." Mutual consent, sexual attraction, and commitment aren't sufficient causes for a marriage.
??? My heterosexual marriage is based on mutual consent, sexual attraction, and commitment. What's yours based on? I've known some really screwed up people who came from parents who's marriage was based on procreation.
Tess argues: Ironically female oral sex to climax is just fine, since it isn't vital to fertility.
Actually, female climax is vital to fertility. Climax produces fluids which make the vagina a habitable region for sperm. Climax also causes the cervix to spasm, which draws the semen into the uteris. If it's all about procreation, then you're wasting valuable resources and chemical energy every time you don't conceive.
(sigh)
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Gay Marriage and Stem Cells
Both are top headlines today. CNN just can't say enough about them. Rather than spout my opinions at length, I'm gonna spout my thoughts at brief. :)
Korean scientists cloned some embryos and harvested the stem cells. So what if a soul decided to live the briefest of lives, by inhabiting a few-day old cluster of cells? Would the soul live within the stem cells? Would the soul survive, and like any transplant -grow-live-thrive? Are there any souls out there who want to spend some time here swarming in a petri dish? I believe that souls choose.
Also, here are a few things stem cells might be able to do some day:
Give your grandmother sight again.
Give a newborn a proper heart.
Give a survivor of violent crime a new limb.
Give a paraplegic a way to walk.
Grow a new uterus, ovaries or cervix.
Grow a new prostate, colon or testicles.
Cure Alzheimers. Cure cancer. Cure AIDs?
End arthritis.
Create hope.
Think of one more thing and add it to the list!
Gay Marriage
I've heard the arguments against it, and I remain unconvinced. The worst agreement, the one that makes my blood boil is the stupid, "God says marriage is between one man and one woman." So change the wording
Reprint every tax form, questionnaire and survey. Change "marriage" to "union". For everyone! I've been legally unioned -unionized(?) to my hubby for 13+ years. On our 5th anniversary, we were handfasted. I got "married" in front of the Gods and everybody. Is there a difference? Well, yes, there is. I waited 5 years for a ceremony that included religion. Legally is there a difference? No. From the second our legal union was recorded; I got insurance benefits, death benefits, joint property rights, and the ability to hold my partner's hand in a hospital room. I have the right to speak for my husband when he is indisposed. Phone rings. "Is (name) there?" "He's not available. This is his wife, may I help you?"
Denying gay marriage is no different than denying blacks or women the right to vote. It is no different from denying property rights. This country has spent 238 years working toward "All are created equal". Take a minute to remember that.
Both are top headlines today. CNN just can't say enough about them. Rather than spout my opinions at length, I'm gonna spout my thoughts at brief. :)
Korean scientists cloned some embryos and harvested the stem cells. So what if a soul decided to live the briefest of lives, by inhabiting a few-day old cluster of cells? Would the soul live within the stem cells? Would the soul survive, and like any transplant -grow-live-thrive? Are there any souls out there who want to spend some time here swarming in a petri dish? I believe that souls choose.
Also, here are a few things stem cells might be able to do some day:
Give your grandmother sight again.
Give a newborn a proper heart.
Give a survivor of violent crime a new limb.
Give a paraplegic a way to walk.
Grow a new uterus, ovaries or cervix.
Grow a new prostate, colon or testicles.
Cure Alzheimers. Cure cancer. Cure AIDs?
End arthritis.
Create hope.
Think of one more thing and add it to the list!
Gay Marriage
I've heard the arguments against it, and I remain unconvinced. The worst agreement, the one that makes my blood boil is the stupid, "God says marriage is between one man and one woman." So change the wording
Reprint every tax form, questionnaire and survey. Change "marriage" to "union". For everyone! I've been legally unioned -unionized(?) to my hubby for 13+ years. On our 5th anniversary, we were handfasted. I got "married" in front of the Gods and everybody. Is there a difference? Well, yes, there is. I waited 5 years for a ceremony that included religion. Legally is there a difference? No. From the second our legal union was recorded; I got insurance benefits, death benefits, joint property rights, and the ability to hold my partner's hand in a hospital room. I have the right to speak for my husband when he is indisposed. Phone rings. "Is (name) there?" "He's not available. This is his wife, may I help you?"
Denying gay marriage is no different than denying blacks or women the right to vote. It is no different from denying property rights. This country has spent 238 years working toward "All are created equal". Take a minute to remember that.
A discussion of slavery
Every morning, as I drive my son to school, we talk about stuff. Between pithy comments about other drivers, L and I teach each other. It usually begins with a question such as, "Hey mom, remember that time we did that thing...?" Today's driving lesson began thus: "What's the difference between centrifugal and centripetal force?"
How does this get around to slavery, you're wondering? Bear with me, I'm getting to that.
When I went to school, the force that makes things go away from the center of spin was called centrifugal force. That's why the machine that separates blood by spinning it is called a centrifuge. Somewhen between my education and L's, the powers that be came up with a more exact term. Spinning now induces centripetal force. Go figure.
I'm glad textbooks change, though... because when I was in school, my history class taught just one instance of slavery. It got me thinking -way back in the 7th grade- about omissions in textbooks. (I believe I wrote here about my dad beating my ass, because I once apologized to a black girl for my race keeping slaves. anyway...)
So it got me thinking. Part of my ancestry is Native American. There is a strong chance that those ancestors either had slaves, or were slaves themselves. Hm! But that's not all. Part of my ancestry is Sicilian. Sicily was part of the Roman Empire. Again, there's a strong chance of either side of slavery in my lineage. And there's more! I'm 1/2 Welsh. History says slavery!
I fell silent, lost in my thoughts, tracing my lineage and wondering. L was silent too. Perhaps he was enjoying a (for once) quite ride to school, or maybe... just maybe, he was thinking.
Every morning, as I drive my son to school, we talk about stuff. Between pithy comments about other drivers, L and I teach each other. It usually begins with a question such as, "Hey mom, remember that time we did that thing...?" Today's driving lesson began thus: "What's the difference between centrifugal and centripetal force?"
How does this get around to slavery, you're wondering? Bear with me, I'm getting to that.
When I went to school, the force that makes things go away from the center of spin was called centrifugal force. That's why the machine that separates blood by spinning it is called a centrifuge. Somewhen between my education and L's, the powers that be came up with a more exact term. Spinning now induces centripetal force. Go figure.
I'm glad textbooks change, though... because when I was in school, my history class taught just one instance of slavery. It got me thinking -way back in the 7th grade- about omissions in textbooks. (I believe I wrote here about my dad beating my ass, because I once apologized to a black girl for my race keeping slaves. anyway...)
So it got me thinking. Part of my ancestry is Native American. There is a strong chance that those ancestors either had slaves, or were slaves themselves. Hm! But that's not all. Part of my ancestry is Sicilian. Sicily was part of the Roman Empire. Again, there's a strong chance of either side of slavery in my lineage. And there's more! I'm 1/2 Welsh. History says slavery!
I fell silent, lost in my thoughts, tracing my lineage and wondering. L was silent too. Perhaps he was enjoying a (for once) quite ride to school, or maybe... just maybe, he was thinking.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Trance
I want to take a minute to talk about ecstatic trance. If you go to google and type in 'define trance', you'll get this: trance -a psychological state induced by (or as if induced by) a magical incantation.
You'll also get a link to more definitions. A lot more definitions. For me, trance is a state of quiet internalization. Trance can also be a quiet internalization which I draw others into, or where I draw myself into them. Then there's ecstatic trance. Traditionally, this means working the body into a state where the ego fades and the mind becomes free-floating. I think the body produces so many chemicals to mask the pain, provide energy, preserve fluids, etc, that it creates a sort of "tripping" effect. Some shamans take drugs or poisons to enter ecstatic trance, some exhaust their bodies, and some just go there. I should rephrase that. All shamans just go there, some of them use a longer route.
I don't use drugs. I don't dance or exercise to the point of exhaustion. I don't starve myself, or go without water. I believe my body must be maintained, not damaged. Ecstatic trance can be achieved without trashing your body. Unfortunately, I can't tell you how. Trance is a state of being. For me, ecstatic trance is driven by need and will. Someone must need the information and they must be unable to get the information themselves, and I must be willing to see/feel/taste/touch/know the information they seek. Sometimes I'm unwilling to experience what the subject needs to know. An example is regression and soul retrieval. Sometimes I'm unwilling to walk through someone's abusive childhood... (I'm leaving that there, because it accurately states a hangup for me) Reworded:
Sometimes people want me to walk through their abusive childhood, pick up the pieces and bring them back. I never want to do that. Sometimes the need is so great, and the person's block is so huge; that walking through their life alone and bringing back the ugliness is the only way. A far better way is to take that person by the metaphorical hand and walk with them, keeping them safe, pointing the way and helping them embrace the pieces of themselves that they had left behind.
When that happens, I am not the only one experiencing ecstatic trance. The other person becomes radiant, both during trance and afterward. Even when we both break down in tears, we glow. I always feel honored and gifted when I'm able to help people in that way.
Really, I think the ability to walk alongside someone in ecstatic trance is the greatest of my gifts. The precognition, minor telekinesis and medical intuitiveness all pale in comparison to helping someone help themselves become a bit more whole.
I think anybody can do the things I do. I think some people choose not to. I also think someday my soul will grow up, and I'll spend a life or three choosing not to. :) I hope those lives are as happy as the one I'm having now.
I want to take a minute to talk about ecstatic trance. If you go to google and type in 'define trance', you'll get this: trance -a psychological state induced by (or as if induced by) a magical incantation.
You'll also get a link to more definitions. A lot more definitions. For me, trance is a state of quiet internalization. Trance can also be a quiet internalization which I draw others into, or where I draw myself into them. Then there's ecstatic trance. Traditionally, this means working the body into a state where the ego fades and the mind becomes free-floating. I think the body produces so many chemicals to mask the pain, provide energy, preserve fluids, etc, that it creates a sort of "tripping" effect. Some shamans take drugs or poisons to enter ecstatic trance, some exhaust their bodies, and some just go there. I should rephrase that. All shamans just go there, some of them use a longer route.
I don't use drugs. I don't dance or exercise to the point of exhaustion. I don't starve myself, or go without water. I believe my body must be maintained, not damaged. Ecstatic trance can be achieved without trashing your body. Unfortunately, I can't tell you how. Trance is a state of being. For me, ecstatic trance is driven by need and will. Someone must need the information and they must be unable to get the information themselves, and I must be willing to see/feel/taste/touch/know the information they seek. Sometimes I'm unwilling to experience what the subject needs to know. An example is regression and soul retrieval. Sometimes I'm unwilling to walk through someone's abusive childhood... (I'm leaving that there, because it accurately states a hangup for me) Reworded:
Sometimes people want me to walk through their abusive childhood, pick up the pieces and bring them back. I never want to do that. Sometimes the need is so great, and the person's block is so huge; that walking through their life alone and bringing back the ugliness is the only way. A far better way is to take that person by the metaphorical hand and walk with them, keeping them safe, pointing the way and helping them embrace the pieces of themselves that they had left behind.
When that happens, I am not the only one experiencing ecstatic trance. The other person becomes radiant, both during trance and afterward. Even when we both break down in tears, we glow. I always feel honored and gifted when I'm able to help people in that way.
Really, I think the ability to walk alongside someone in ecstatic trance is the greatest of my gifts. The precognition, minor telekinesis and medical intuitiveness all pale in comparison to helping someone help themselves become a bit more whole.
I think anybody can do the things I do. I think some people choose not to. I also think someday my soul will grow up, and I'll spend a life or three choosing not to. :) I hope those lives are as happy as the one I'm having now.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Friday, February 06, 2004
Writing
Tonight, while the Hubby-Man was making dinner, he gave me a little blast from the past. And I quote:
"If you don't want your baby, then we'll try to find a home for it."
I don't remember what brought it up, because that phrase always triggers rant-mode with me. You see, it's what was said by the first adoption agency I called, when I was trying to find the right parents for my son. Yeah, that's a great way to get people to give up their kids. When I rant about Christianity, that incident is a big part of it. There is a place of hatred deep in my heart for the woman who said those words. It lessens me as a person, it limits my spiritual growth, and it remains. I just can't stop making her wrong. And secretly, I don't want to.
I did not work with that agency, I chose another. You can read all about it on Random Redhead. You won't read about the birth (9 lbs 15 oz), or the resultant stitches. You won't read about the teddy bear I bought, so my arms wouldn't be empty on the flight home; or how I leaked breast milk all down my shirt because of the pressure change on the plane. You won't even read about how very, very hard it was to leave my son at the hospital. How I said, "Please... Can I hold him one more time?" and the nurse said, "He's already gone." (Nope, you get to read that here!)
You also won't be reading what it's like to sign the adoption papers.
The story is too big for me to type my way through in one sitting. The rest will have to wait for another day.
It's a really good read anyway, so read it and enjoy. Not everything I write into RR is dark and depressing. Giving up my son was actually a very uplifting experience.
Tonight, while the Hubby-Man was making dinner, he gave me a little blast from the past. And I quote:
"If you don't want your baby, then we'll try to find a home for it."
I don't remember what brought it up, because that phrase always triggers rant-mode with me. You see, it's what was said by the first adoption agency I called, when I was trying to find the right parents for my son. Yeah, that's a great way to get people to give up their kids. When I rant about Christianity, that incident is a big part of it. There is a place of hatred deep in my heart for the woman who said those words. It lessens me as a person, it limits my spiritual growth, and it remains. I just can't stop making her wrong. And secretly, I don't want to.
I did not work with that agency, I chose another. You can read all about it on Random Redhead. You won't read about the birth (9 lbs 15 oz), or the resultant stitches. You won't read about the teddy bear I bought, so my arms wouldn't be empty on the flight home; or how I leaked breast milk all down my shirt because of the pressure change on the plane. You won't even read about how very, very hard it was to leave my son at the hospital. How I said, "Please... Can I hold him one more time?" and the nurse said, "He's already gone." (Nope, you get to read that here!)
You also won't be reading what it's like to sign the adoption papers.
The story is too big for me to type my way through in one sitting. The rest will have to wait for another day.
It's a really good read anyway, so read it and enjoy. Not everything I write into RR is dark and depressing. Giving up my son was actually a very uplifting experience.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Three Ring Circus
Remember Schoolhouse Rock? Of course you do. We all have fond memories of our favorites like, "I'm Just A Bill" or "Conjunction Junction". Years ago, we bought the Schoolhouse Rock collection on videotape, and I was re-introduced to "Three Ring Circus" which explains the three branches of government. The Supreme Court doesn't make the news as often as the President or members of the Legislative branch. I think that's good. It frees up the Supreme Court, and gives them the space to do their job. I also like that they get a lifetime appointment, so they don't have to worry about getting booted when they make unpopular decisions. I'd like to talk about some of the decisions they'll be working on after their midwinter break.
The Pledge of Allegiance: I'm all for making kids start their day by pledging their dedication to their country. I'm all for "One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all". I'm all against "Under God".
Looking at how post Sept. 11th deals with terrorism and security: Yes!
The Supreme Courst will be testing the limits of presidential secrecy, civil rights protections for the disabled, and free speech vs protecting children from Internet pRon. They will be looking at patients rights to sue their HMO's. Cases now awaiting rulings include a church-state fight over scholarships for religious education, a look at the role of partisan politics in legislative redistricting, and a case testing the legal rights of more than 650 foreigners held in open-ended military custody at the U.S. Navy base at Guantanamo Bay.
All I can say is, do it, baby!
Remember Schoolhouse Rock? Of course you do. We all have fond memories of our favorites like, "I'm Just A Bill" or "Conjunction Junction". Years ago, we bought the Schoolhouse Rock collection on videotape, and I was re-introduced to "Three Ring Circus" which explains the three branches of government. The Supreme Court doesn't make the news as often as the President or members of the Legislative branch. I think that's good. It frees up the Supreme Court, and gives them the space to do their job. I also like that they get a lifetime appointment, so they don't have to worry about getting booted when they make unpopular decisions. I'd like to talk about some of the decisions they'll be working on after their midwinter break.
The Pledge of Allegiance: I'm all for making kids start their day by pledging their dedication to their country. I'm all for "One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all". I'm all against "Under God".
Looking at how post Sept. 11th deals with terrorism and security: Yes!
The Supreme Courst will be testing the limits of presidential secrecy, civil rights protections for the disabled, and free speech vs protecting children from Internet pRon. They will be looking at patients rights to sue their HMO's. Cases now awaiting rulings include a church-state fight over scholarships for religious education, a look at the role of partisan politics in legislative redistricting, and a case testing the legal rights of more than 650 foreigners held in open-ended military custody at the U.S. Navy base at Guantanamo Bay.
All I can say is, do it, baby!
Monday, February 02, 2004
Just One Teacher
You all know the story... Dirt poor kid, city schools and one magical teacher who turns their life around. Well, here's my story.
Mr. Forest did not turn my life around, but he did leave a lasting impression. I was attending Central Visual and Performing Arts High School, if you want to call hanging out in the bathroom all day "attending". At the beginning of the school year, I'd gone to all my classes to decide which ones would be worth my time. Acting class sucked that year, so I usually skipped it. French class I could take or leave. Math was amusing for about a minute, then I got tired of watching my classmates throw their worksheets out the window and shoot spitballs at the teacher. Then there was History. My first day in History class, Mr. Forest gave a speech. It went something like this, "I teach History in this class. I teach it because I love it, and I'd like you to love it too. If you plan on goofing off, you might as well leave now."
Here he paused. A few kids got up and left, the rest of us stayed glued to our seats. He had basically dared us to behave. His demeanor suggested that we were only marginally worth his time, but he'd give us a chance to prove ourselves. After the troublemakers had left, taking their teen angst and authority-bucking with them, Mr. Forest continued.
"Good. I show a lot of movies in this class. You will not sleep. You will not bother the students who want to learn something. Troublemakers will be ejected, and you will not return... Now then, I promise you will learn everything I can teach you. All you have to do is show up and pay attention... I understand, sometimes things happen. You can always talk to me."
That's the gist of what he said. Many teachers before him have said the same things, but Mr. Forest said it with feeling. He didn't make threats, he didn't stand there powerless, pleading with us to behave. He was panning for gold in that classroom. He knew we were worth his time, and suddenly, we knew it too.
Barring the days I cut school entirely, I always attended Mr. Forest's History class. I even did my homework. Then the bad thing happened. I cut school and got raped. In the weeks after the rape, I skipped school entirely. I spent my days wandering the streets, or hiding in the house. I could not face Mr. Forest. I had done a stupid thing and paid for it mightily, and even though Mr. Forest said we could talk to him, I couldn't set foot in his class again.
When I finally went back to school, I avoided History class. One day Mr. Forest spotted me in the hallway. He looked down his nose at me and said, "You haven't been in class recently." I had nothing to say to that. I wanted to ask him if I could come back, if I were somehow worth a second chance, but I was afraid of the answer.
The next time I passed Mr. Forest in the hall, he acted like he didn't know me. That stung. I was no longer one of his students. His magical world of History, and the safe haven of his classroom, was closed to me. I think of Mr. Forest often. He taught more than History. He taught me about the world. There are people who will share everything with you, but they won't always give you second chances. Mr. Forest taught me to use my first chance wisely. Maturity taught me to speak up, no matter how ugly that speaking up may be; because you have to ask for a second chance.
You all know the story... Dirt poor kid, city schools and one magical teacher who turns their life around. Well, here's my story.
Mr. Forest did not turn my life around, but he did leave a lasting impression. I was attending Central Visual and Performing Arts High School, if you want to call hanging out in the bathroom all day "attending". At the beginning of the school year, I'd gone to all my classes to decide which ones would be worth my time. Acting class sucked that year, so I usually skipped it. French class I could take or leave. Math was amusing for about a minute, then I got tired of watching my classmates throw their worksheets out the window and shoot spitballs at the teacher. Then there was History. My first day in History class, Mr. Forest gave a speech. It went something like this, "I teach History in this class. I teach it because I love it, and I'd like you to love it too. If you plan on goofing off, you might as well leave now."
Here he paused. A few kids got up and left, the rest of us stayed glued to our seats. He had basically dared us to behave. His demeanor suggested that we were only marginally worth his time, but he'd give us a chance to prove ourselves. After the troublemakers had left, taking their teen angst and authority-bucking with them, Mr. Forest continued.
"Good. I show a lot of movies in this class. You will not sleep. You will not bother the students who want to learn something. Troublemakers will be ejected, and you will not return... Now then, I promise you will learn everything I can teach you. All you have to do is show up and pay attention... I understand, sometimes things happen. You can always talk to me."
That's the gist of what he said. Many teachers before him have said the same things, but Mr. Forest said it with feeling. He didn't make threats, he didn't stand there powerless, pleading with us to behave. He was panning for gold in that classroom. He knew we were worth his time, and suddenly, we knew it too.
Barring the days I cut school entirely, I always attended Mr. Forest's History class. I even did my homework. Then the bad thing happened. I cut school and got raped. In the weeks after the rape, I skipped school entirely. I spent my days wandering the streets, or hiding in the house. I could not face Mr. Forest. I had done a stupid thing and paid for it mightily, and even though Mr. Forest said we could talk to him, I couldn't set foot in his class again.
When I finally went back to school, I avoided History class. One day Mr. Forest spotted me in the hallway. He looked down his nose at me and said, "You haven't been in class recently." I had nothing to say to that. I wanted to ask him if I could come back, if I were somehow worth a second chance, but I was afraid of the answer.
The next time I passed Mr. Forest in the hall, he acted like he didn't know me. That stung. I was no longer one of his students. His magical world of History, and the safe haven of his classroom, was closed to me. I think of Mr. Forest often. He taught more than History. He taught me about the world. There are people who will share everything with you, but they won't always give you second chances. Mr. Forest taught me to use my first chance wisely. Maturity taught me to speak up, no matter how ugly that speaking up may be; because you have to ask for a second chance.
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