tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74093161579344512992024-03-21T03:39:21.371-04:00The Outlaw Josie BrownFleshing out that Invisible Bone that Keeps the Neck UpJosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.comBlogger661125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-66937059883096131072013-04-16T10:41:00.003-04:002013-04-16T10:41:51.248-04:00Forever Your Power and Strength Stays With MeNothing makes you feel more a resident of your home than being somewhere you aren't from. When I was at school in Washington, DC, I must have had the same conversation a thousand times - in dorm lounges, yelled over music in bars, in cafeterias at work, on the Metro. <br />
<br />
"So where you from?"<br />
"Massachusetts, a city called Worcester, it's right in the middle of the state."<br />
"So like...Cape Cod?"<br />
"No, more like...you know what, Boston."<br />
<br />
Boston is Massachusetts' pride and its passport. No matter where you go, Boston is the Rosetta Stone; once you mention Boston, people have a picture...a city by the sea, with two lamps shining in the Old North Church, awash in that ridiculous accent, all tinged with green, with the USS Constitution in the background. Also, lobsters. But more than anything, a kind of gritty resilience. To pretty much everyone I've ever met who has an idea of Boston, it's a place where you can make it if you're a grinder. It's one of the last places people feel like you can hack out an existence on sheer will alone, and the city won't begrudge you. It's not New York, where the city's "make it here, make it anywhere" charm is rooted in the idea that the City will keep trying to pull your success away, to keep you humble. Neither of these things is true, of course - you can live a good, solid life in New York and you can get dumped on continually by Boston - but that's how it <i>feels.</i> And when you are trying to make it in Boston, you do feel it. You feel like you can make it.<br />
<br />
I have had some of the worst years of my life in and out of Boston these last three years. I have gotten divorced, I have struggled through graduate school at Boston University, I have found roadblock after roadblock. What kept me going, though, was Boston, in all its forms. My beautiful sister lives in the North End, the sweetest neighborhood in the city, and when I walk down Hanover Street home from Government Center, I see friends along the way, people I know through my sister, working at restaurants with windows thrown open to the sidewalks with the scents swirling out into the air. I walk past Paul Revere's statue, with the Old North Church rising behind him, and past the fire station wedged in amongst the tall apartments, with their Boston Bruins championship banner and the Worcester Six hockey jersey hanging over the trucks. I have studied along the Charles River, watching the crews skim over the water, and I've spent hours laughing and studying with Erin at Cornwalls. I've fought my way to class through Opening Day crowds...Fenway Park is <i>right there</i>, just waiting for you to ditch class and walk over. <br />
<br />
These are just pictures of the last few hard years. They come together with a lifetime of memories before them...Red Sox games with Dad and Grandad, Mario Lemieux's last game in Boston, the time Lucy and I babbled ourselves silly at David Sedaris' book signing at the Harvard Bookstore. New Year's Eve with Scott, John and Matt. The lightning show at the Museum of Science. Long walks with Chris and dinners with Pierce. Seeing The Police at Fenway Park and Lady Gaga at the Garden. The T on the way to Sox games. Christmas Eve with my sister and family at Strega. Snow outside the Casablanca. Copley. Faneuil Hall. Quicy Market. <br />
<br />
Boston.<br />
<br />
I have exactly one friend I have known my entire life, and she was running the Marathon yesterday. In fourth grade, Anna told me she wanted to be a physical therapist, and that's what she is doing today. She had to stop at mile 25, when they shut down the marathon, but I think it's pretty evident she would have not only finished, but continued on, run all the way home to San Diego if she'd felt like it, or maybe just to our little island down the road, Block Island. My whole second family was in Boston to watch her. <br />
<br />
Anna was okay, and so was our family, and so were my friends and my sister. The thing is, I know how crushing it must have been to have to stop. When you grow up near Boston, it looms so large. We celebrate Patriot's Day here, which is basically an excuse to shut down the state for the Marathon. Any marathon is an undertaking, but the Boston Marathon, especially for those of us from here, is something bigger. To attack it is to attack something fundamental about Boston, it's to take a swing at Boston itself. There has been a lot of "messed with the wrong city" bluster going around, but I can't feel anything but sad. Doing something like this to something so good, that exists only to illuminate a city and to lift people up, is a darkness beyond what I can understand. <br />
<br />
That said.<br />
<br />
I know Boston will be okay, because it is a city of grinders. It is a city of grinders and good people and friendly cab drivers and big personalities and smart people doing smart things and people overly attached to <i>both </i>Sam Adams and the Red Sox and good bartenders and people who never leave, even when they live in San Diego, and people who just love <i>really </i>damn hard. I know Boston will be okay.<br />
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<br />Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-87393808767958138532012-05-10T13:12:00.003-04:002012-05-10T13:12:44.899-04:00The Unparalleled Awesomeness of M.A.C.I started my life's <i>maquillage</i> the way I think everyone probably does - with a heady blend of Mom's cosmetics and cheap stuff from CVS. As I got older and got, you know, a job, I discovered magical money-sucking stores like Sephora, which had more hardcore cosmetics that worked better and were more exciting. Makeup is one of the things I firmly believe you should invest in as you can; I don't mean invest as in "everyone should make makeup a priority" but rather "if you're going to wear it, wear the good stuff." While Sephora is my favorite for a broad selection of cosmetics and for good tips and fun new things, the best single brand I use is M.A.C. I know Sephora used to carry their products and am not sure why that stopped, but it's probably for the best, Josie's pocketbook wise. There are two products in particular that I love of theirs, which I'd like to mention here. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-sb8gzpBpEOHgi2xP8t2qEumqvQDP37l-fsuzBG8xDnvNsMrS0En9Xjo1pn5Z9_sgmkFLkSz1EExKQmxjW2Rmz00u2Zg3fYXUgMcwi_CXdO2ktCVM-B0zJhZ-19gKw4_11uJATLNbd73/s1600/NailPolish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh-sb8gzpBpEOHgi2xP8t2qEumqvQDP37l-fsuzBG8xDnvNsMrS0En9Xjo1pn5Z9_sgmkFLkSz1EExKQmxjW2Rmz00u2Zg3fYXUgMcwi_CXdO2ktCVM-B0zJhZ-19gKw4_11uJATLNbd73/s320/NailPolish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Item number one is their nail polish. I am awful with nail polish on my fingernails. Apparently I'm just super tough on my nails and spend all my time smashing my hands into things...even salon manicures chip almost immediately and look like I stuck my hand in a wood chipper before the week is out. But M.A.C. can keep up. I don't know how and frankly my best guess is "magic" but this stuff stays put like crazy glue. The colors are all lovely, too...it's one of those things where it might not look like your particular thing, but odds are it will look lovely on. I kind of gambled on this rum raisiny color, but it looks like a million bucks on, and every "ehhhhh I'll <i>try</i> it" purchase I've made from them has panned out much the same. They are color experts in a big way, and I can't recommend them on that front enough!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezsIpI9mQ5qpwCgkx8BHUAC0ABS_TgoI15v8PQlxxzCRfVRNjGjSAUntcromGjzsrgilK0HIA5aC2xJw3noH5oeMS3uK8TJvwxI22_X7N7MHYQThbWo6LkEAKxk047xkMimRlQxyPEVmX/s1600/nails1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezsIpI9mQ5qpwCgkx8BHUAC0ABS_TgoI15v8PQlxxzCRfVRNjGjSAUntcromGjzsrgilK0HIA5aC2xJw3noH5oeMS3uK8TJvwxI22_X7N7MHYQThbWo6LkEAKxk047xkMimRlQxyPEVmX/s320/nails1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
To give my nail polish the best chance at hanging in there, I have kind of a process. I start by washing my hands and then using either coconut oil or some other kind of moisturizing oil on my hands (I've even used olive oil), focusing on getting it into my cuticles. I push my cuticles back and sometimes trim them with nail scissors, depending on how industrious I'm feeling. After that, I file the edges to the shape I want and file the whole surface of the nail. I think it's this resurfacing that really helps. Then I put one coat on and let it dry ALL THE WAY. I follow it up with a second coat, and that's the one I really try to let dry for as long as possible. Sometimes I use a top coat, sometimes not. I have been trying too to not worry too much about streaking or light patches at first, because sometimes as coats dry, the color evens out, but if I try to fix it in process, I always screw it up. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiVvgd0LhQzgwGBB0pWYZ1gTrvoS0PWGZB4up4B_38HMJdynTGsrEfiw3mplaFpU9lORq72ST0cZ_OXcMAFsozEBNg_rfDYOSptJ9ZxcEQl__XZwFwvG95ZurZc-fhzV3MFaffu_BfDjV/s1600/Pigmentuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiVvgd0LhQzgwGBB0pWYZ1gTrvoS0PWGZB4up4B_38HMJdynTGsrEfiw3mplaFpU9lORq72ST0cZ_OXcMAFsozEBNg_rfDYOSptJ9ZxcEQl__XZwFwvG95ZurZc-fhzV3MFaffu_BfDjV/s320/Pigmentuse.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
The other M.A.C. product I want to recommend is their pigment. This is a loose powder and again, the key is the beautiful color sensibility. I use their Rose pigment as a standby - if I'm packing for a trip more often than not it's this, mascara and a lip gloss - and it's amazingly gorgeous and versatile. It also comes packed SO tightly in the jar...I've had this jar for almost a year and I use it all the time, but look how low it is! It's more lightly packed now, but damn, that's serious business. I can see the Rose being beautiful on almost anyone for everyday wear, but they have so many more colors for fun, and they're so worth it. They aren't even that expensive, only about $20 for a jar.<br />
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You can buy all of these cosmetics at <a href="http://www.maccosmetics.com/index.tmpl">M.A.C.</a> or at a counter in Macy's.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-39665949414342125302012-05-08T20:23:00.001-04:002012-05-08T20:23:29.298-04:00Adventures in Linguistics<br />
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<b>Act I, Scene 1</b><br /><i>JOSIE is headed to New York for a Ladies' Weekend at OLIVIER and JULS' lovely apartment. OLIVIER is leaving town but will have one evening to spend with JOSIE and JULS before leaving for a bachelor party at the END OF THE UNIVERSE. OLIVIER texts JOSIE to discuss arrival times and dinner.</i><br /><br />OLIVIER: Hey josie! Excited to see you tonight! Do you have an ETA? Also, I'm trying to plan dinner. I was thinking guacamole and chips to start, then chili and rice. K?</div>
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JOSIE: OMG Livvy you are amazeballs!! Cannot wait to see you. I have a meeting at 1, expect it to run an hour, and then head down, so...6 or 7, depending on traffic??</div>
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OLIVIER: Great! Does the menu agree with you? Juls thought you may not be a fan of guac...And yes, my balls are amazing. ;)<br />JOSIE: Ummmm guac is not just a food, but a lifestyle choice for me. Everything sounds fabulous including your balls. lololol<br />OLIVIER: Perfecto! Wait til I dip them in chili!</div>
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<b>Act II, Scene 1</b></div>
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<i>JOSIE continues to prep her legal philosophy presentation in the SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY. OLIVIER continues to be excited.</i></div>
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OLIVIER: Spicy balls!<br />OLIVIER: Spicy balls!<br />JOSIE: Oh my goodness I can HEAR you being overstimulated lol<br />OLIVIER: I'm trembling with excitem<span style="background-color: transparent;">ent! 9:22 AM</span></div>
JOSIE: hahahaha oh Livvy it's only been a month and I miss you so<br />OLIVIER: Ditto! Hurry up and get down here!<br />
JOSIE: On it boss!<br /><br /><b>Act III, Scene 1</b><br />
<i>OLIVIER dispenses words of wisdom as JOSIE gets ready to go to class.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>JOSIE: I'd tell my law prof to screw but I am terrified of him. I think he's a Highlander I don't want to challenge him.<br />OLIVIER: Law profs seem terrifying, but they're all fragile souls, otherwise they would be practicing law instead of hiding at a law school. Tell him I said that.<br />JOSIE: hahaha I will tell him and then give him your address. He's very sweet but his brain is terrifying<br /><br />
<b>Act IV, Scene 1</b><br />
<i>OLIVIER revolutionizes the English language. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
OLIVIER: Btw, that blog about our wedding was incredible!!! So touching and well-written. You are amaze-vag.<br />
<br />
<i>Fin.</i>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-44515422259302155642012-04-17T21:51:00.002-04:002012-04-17T21:51:50.931-04:00On Civility and the Internet<div class="tr_bq">
My new tumblr friend <a href="http://lyssamae.tumblr.com/">Lyssa</a> recently shared an exchange she had with a friend of her mother's via Facebook. It gave me some thoughts. First, here's the exchange.</div>
<br />
<blockquote>
Tricia (6 hours ago):<br />
Curious the reaction I’d get if I challenged your “Obama is the answer” mentality. I am a belligerently proud card carrying Republican who can’t wait for that piece of fecal matter to be evicted from that White Shack down the street. Elmer Fudd, Beavis or Butthead…fuck it even Sponge Bob would have stepped in with about the same amount of qualifications!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Tricia (30 minutes ago):<br />
yea, pretty much what i thought! </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Me (just now)<br />
Hey—just got this. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I don’t think he’s the ~answer~ to everything. He’s done a lot wrong and has screwed up at several major points. However, he’s done a lot of good things, too, and I’d rather have him than any of the other possibles. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I care about my reproductive rights, I care about being able to marry my partner regardless of their sex, I care about comprehensive sex ed and universal healthcare and uncensored internet. These are things that the GOP has proven time and again that they don’t care about, and that’s not something I can be okay with. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I’ve said in jest that if a GOP gets elected, I’m moving to Denmark. I think I might have to. I can’t live in a country where the government continues to push women centuries back in their rights. I can’t live in a country where the government believes that racism doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t live in a country where the government would force me to carry the child of my—not one, not two, but three—rapists to term because it’s a “gift from god.” I can’t live in a country where the government would not allow me to seek efficient medical care quickly. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Cue last night. I went to the ER because I was bleeding profusely. It was my period, but 10 times worse. If the GOP was in charge, my healthcare wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t have been able to go to the ER and make sure that my IUD hadn’t perforated my uterus and I would probably have bled out. I was fortunate enough only to have to pay $70 out of pocket for that visit, have my girlfriend sit with me and hold my hand and not be denied care, and have a male doctor respectfully poke around down there. I have excellent health care coverage and I will continue to have that because of Obama’s Affordable Care Act. I would not have that under Romney or Santorum. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I recently had to explain to my grandmother what Planned Parenthood does. As far as she knew, it was an abortionplex. Now, she had no idea that when I was out of school for a year and didn’t have health insurance, I went to Planned Parenthood for gynecological checkups, for a mammogram, for consultation about birth control methods. When I had kidney pain and a potential uterine cyst, I went to Planned Parenthood. Had I needed an abortion, I would have gone there too. Since I managed to get comprehensive sex ed and know how to properly use birth control, my risk for pregnancy was significantly lowered and I didn’t have to do that. Planned Parenthood exists because it’s a necessary thing for lower-income people to get the healthcare they need. Under the GOP, comprehensive sex ed wouldn’t exist. Neither would Planned Parenthood or abortion or half decent healthcare. Romney said one of his first orders of business would be to kill PP and outlaw abortion. Me and millions of women like me won’t be able to get that care, and have their lives threatened by medical conditions that could have been caught early. That is why I am 100% against the GOP. For me, they have no bright side, no redeeming qualities, no endearing charm. Obama’s defended PP and women’s rights. He’s fought for me to make the same amount as a colleague who is male with the same qualifications. He’s signed into law a bill that prevents healthcare discrimination on the basis of sex. He’s at least working toward equal rights for LGBT people. Under his healthcare act, women cannot be denied insurance for a history of domestic violence—which is considered a “pre-existing condition” under many policies today. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
When it comes down to it, I’m a two-issue voter: who’s going to let me have my healthcare when I need it, and who’s going to let me have equal rights under the law based on my sexual orientation. I am perfectly okay with that. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
That’s why your 6 hour ago message just got to me. I went to bed when I got home at 4 am, and woke up around 2. My schedule is erratic. Had I not been to the ER last night and skipped class today, I wouldn’t have seen this until at least 5 pm.</blockquote>
A while later, an update, in the form of a response from Tricia:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Those who are believers in his socialist ideas should relocate! I am TOTALLY okay with that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</blockquote>
Which earned a response from Lyssa:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
There are so many things I could say to this right now, but I really doubt you’d listen. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
A) If you think he’s a socialist, you’ve been sadly misguided as to what socialism actually is. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
B) I appreciate your excessive use of exclamation marks. They really get across how passionate you are about your point. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
C) Thanks for the laugh. I needed it today. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
D) If it bothers you this much, I might just stick around. Besides, the girlfriend’s not particularly keen on moving to Denmark, and we wouldn’t want to deprive the US of the chance to deny another LGBT couple equal rights. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
E) I’ll send your good wishes along to my mother. Hope you’re doing well. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
-Alyssa</blockquote>
And then one more from Tricia:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
fucking liberals, spare me your attempts at educating me and i’ll spare you an education that you and your small town mind aren’t ready for. you and lewisburg deserve each other. as to your mother…must suck to be her. put that in your LGBT hooka and fire that fucker up.</blockquote>
Most of you can probably guess where I come down on the political issues being discussed here. Surprisingly, they're not actually what I want to talk about, largely because I am kind of tired of talking about them. What I want to discuss is the tone of this exchange. First, I want to commend Alyssa for her response, because if I got a message like that out of the blue (or not...to be fair, I don't know if there was anything leading up to this, but I'd argue it's a shitty message to send regardless), my response would be about 50% profanity and another 20% straight up insults, so Alyssa is a far better woman than I. But second, I want to point out that this phenomenon of speaking in the tone of "I'm right so I can be as big a jerk as I want" is pervasive and fundamentally damaging to our politics. <br />
<br />
I talk a lot of smack about Republicans, and when I say Republicans I generally refer to elected officials because they have no excuse for not considering the ramifications of their crap policies. Political ideology appeals to the average voter for various reasons and in our bipolar (mostly, anyway) system, it's often a matter of choosing the lesser of two ill-fitting options. I also know that the average voter is not always in the habit of considering large scale effects of political policies. We all learn the scope of our choices as we grow politically, and some of those effects can be really hard to see. But as I said, it is politicians' jobs to know this, so when elected officials promote foul policies that are prejudicial or harmful, that shit is on them, and I feel fine about calling that like I see it. But when I talk with friends of mine who are conservative or Republican specifically, I think it's my job to be respectful and to take their thoughts and feelings and opinions into serious account and have an actual conversation with them. That's how politics happens - you have a conversation. The above is not a conversation. It is a woman being confrontational and aggressive for no immediately discernible reason. It accomplishes nothing, and that is evident in her response to Alyssa's response - it's not about a conversation, it's about unleashing your venom on someone.<br />
<br />
Anonymity on the Internet is fascinating to me. There was a point where using the Internet required the use of a handle more often than not, and it's easy to see how it's easier to mouth off at "DerpEye9818375987" than someone in front of you. That makes sense, particularly when you consider the inherent machineness of computers in this same period - Internet content wasn't nearly as pervasive in real life, computers were always computers (i.e. not phones, tablets, PDAs, etc.), and there was a limit to what you could do on the Internet. Now, the Internet is everywhere, and there is an app for every damn thing you can think of. Yet we still cling to an idea that "it's just the Internet," even though as the Internet has integrated with our lives, handles have fallen away and - particularly in the case of Facebook - we use at least some component of our true identities. It has only become more evident that there are real, live, humans on the other end of the computer, yet we still accept "people are just jerks on the Internet" not only as a reality but as an <i>acceptable</i> reality. The simple fact of a computer-intermediary removes our social obligation to common courtesy.<br />
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One of the hardest things for me to drive home with my students is the reality that there is no solution to politics. You cannot resolve the big questions of politics and then wipe your hands of them - the biggest questions are ones about how we should live our lives together, and that is never going to get answered. New science and art will come along, as will new events, and we'll have to figure out how to incorporate that, and sometimes that will require dramatic shifts in our political thought. How does <i>Piss Christ</i> change the way we think about obscenity? How does a Roomba affect our ethics? How do surveillance cameras change our behavior? How does September 11th change our relationships? Politics is the process of parsing out all of these questions, and the greatest challenge is <i>not</i> finding a definitive answer but rather remembering that all of us need to work on it together; we need to understand ourselves as equally legitimate in the political landscape, and to respect each other during the project of political life. It means not picking fights and resorting to insults. It means knowing we're all more than words on a page.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-25264887947342351492012-04-12T20:50:00.000-04:002012-04-12T20:50:21.600-04:00Love and New YorkThis past weekend, I had the supreme pleasure of singing in the wedding of my dear friends Julia and Olivier. It was nerve wracking and occasionally frustrating and absolutely amazing. I love singing, and this is the first time I've sung for friends with whom I am <i>this</i> close. Luckily, I was able to sing the processional - "Ave Maria" - from the side of the altar, thus staving off a complete sobby meltdown upon seeing Juls come down the aisle in her stunning dress. The ceremony was beautiful and I felt like I was getting a special treat as I sang from the front of the church; looking out at all of the happy faces there to celebrate Juls and Liv's special day made my heart grow three sizes with every hymn and psalm. <br />
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I spent that weekend in the company of old friends - Juls, Liv, Ben, Lucy, Katy, Lee, Dan, Tiff - and new ones. The night before the wedding, Lucy and Lee and I went to see <i>The Hunger Games</i> while we waited for Ben to make his way to New York, then engaged in a traditional Olivier orgy of food and drink. On the day of the wedding, Liv, Ben and I went on a rescue mission to the post office to pick up presents for the mother and father of the bride that had been trapped there. (It's not a wedding until you've defrauded a government agency!) Later, I curled my hair perched on the edge of the couch while Ben napped and Katy buzzed around getting ready. I felt so lucky to share this stunning weekend with people I love so much and for so many reasons. These are people who know me better than anyone, and who bear me up when all else fails. I am nothing without my friends. <br />
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Normally, any weekend with this group leaves my heart singing, but this weekend in particular was exceptionally stunning. I felt throughout as though I was in a museum dedicated to love - love of all kinds, of all shapes, of all sizes and details. From the time I arrived on Thursday for the rehearsal, much was made about the impending clash of cultures - Julia's family is Irish, stoic, dryly hilarious, and somewhat feelings-averse, whereas Olivier's French/Puerto Rican blend is effusive and more or less a whirling vortex of <i>bisous</i> and hugging. There was only one sure thing: it was going to be spectacular. And so it was - there were so many moments of beauty in these connections and interactions. Those two families are definitive proof that love is a many splendored thing.<br />
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That's what I thought about, the whole weekend: just how many kinds of love there are, and how many were on display. The ease of conversation between long-distant family members brought back together. Little stories about everyday life that shape sisters and parents and children. The drive to produce an orgy of food for visiting friends the night before your wedding. Fussing over getting everything perfect for the ones you love; snapping when it isn't, glowing when it is. Worrying about the welfare of a pigeon who has taken up residence on a balcony in Queens, and her two eggs. A musical war between inappropriate rugby songs and old Irish songs and, mysteriously, rap. Unfunny non-jokes made to ease the nervousness. Shaking hands at the podium. Hugs and yelling and dancing. Tears. Nested hands. They're all manifestations of love, and it is nothing short of miraculous that so many of these wove a soft blanket around this wedding. I believe in miracles, yes.<br />
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There is one more love that I couldn't help but notice that weekend...the love you can have for a place. The reception closed with Sinatra's "New York, New York," with the dance floor packed with dangerously-high-kicking friends and everyone singing along. There are New Yorkers who can be obnoxious about New York, but there is no denying that there is something special about it. You cannot visit New York and not feel it's frantic, beating heart, even in the quietest neighborhoods, and you cannot, having felt this, question that your time in New York, there in that moment, wherever you are and whatever you're doing, is just one small part in a long, grand, strange, wonderful story that has been written for centuries and will go on for many more. At 3 in the morning I looked out the window of the Cuckoo's Nest, from the afterparty, and watched Juls laugh with her friends, in her stunning, billowing dress, head sailing back, one small moment in the life of the City but so in control and the sole owner of the night, and thought, "this is a special place." And it is.<br />
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Congratulations, Juls and Liv. I couldn't be luckier to know you.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-90392814957479903702012-04-12T20:27:00.000-04:002012-04-12T20:27:21.238-04:00Sometimes I Text My Mom from the Train<br />
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Me: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">Were you afraid of Russia in the 80s?</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Mom: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">No</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Me: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">Why not?</span> </div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Mom: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">I was too busy beating you children</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-text"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-text">Aaaaaaaaaand I snorted out loud on the train and freaked out the lady next to me. THANKS MOM. The hits continue...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Me: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">I'm reading Rachel Maddow's book "Drift: the Unmooring of the American Military" and the first couple chapters are about Reagan's development of a"RUSSIANS ARE</span><span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3em;"> </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text" style="line-height: 1.3em;">SCARY" motif</span><span style="line-height: 1.3em;"> </span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3em;">Me: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text" style="line-height: 1.3em;">Obviously since I was busy being beaten/an infant at the time it's hard for me to know how effective/pervasive it was</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Mom: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">I honestly do not remember being afraid of the Russians. I was more mortified that a B actor was president of my country</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Mom: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">I had no idea what madness lay ahead...</span></div>
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<span class="gc-message-sms-from" style="color: #333333; font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: bold;">Mom: </span><span class="gc-message-sms-text">W!!!!!!!!</span></div>
</div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-8736635300400025252012-04-09T10:01:00.002-04:002012-04-09T10:02:21.980-04:00The Closest I've Come to Being in a Cult Was Taking a Shower in New JerseyWhen I was little, I had to <i>constantly</i> be reading. When I was eating my breakfast, I was reading the cereal box. And the milk. Later, I'd start reading the paper, or a book, or a magazine. When I was in the shower, I'd read shampoo bottles. This took an interesting turn when I visited my aunt and uncle's house in New Jersey, because they used Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap, which has a label like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u8IQFvZwXdl0jUcIx4NZbyVy0Poyk7gxHbY65iJDP2YytDKkN8gR21SFoTJWb-gL4ssXomjECpJEIzBByN_l2eVcxADUorrs8YuuwHLeRGWKXM1iUaWeWWStFL14R7vkhziaiu8q9ehi/s1600/3821274570_b4f116d65f_o.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5u8IQFvZwXdl0jUcIx4NZbyVy0Poyk7gxHbY65iJDP2YytDKkN8gR21SFoTJWb-gL4ssXomjECpJEIzBByN_l2eVcxADUorrs8YuuwHLeRGWKXM1iUaWeWWStFL14R7vkhziaiu8q9ehi/s400/3821274570_b4f116d65f_o.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Click to enlarge</i></td></tr>
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I took really long showers when I was in New Jersey.<br />
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For those who don't have 20 minutes to read this, let me say this: the passage "For one God's Spaceship Earth, with Bomb and Gun we're all-One or none! All-One! All-One! All-One! Exceptions eternally? Absolute none!" happens, and it's not even the most frantic thing on there. <a href="http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/904/why-the-weird-religious-ravings-on-dr-bronners-soap">Dr. Bronner was an interesting guy</a>, and the company is still run by his family following his death in 1997. The soap, incidentally, is really good. It rinses cleanly and it doesn't dry out your skin. Plus, it's a culty-fun adventure for the whole family! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittTGf3nVoJFInA5N84prMnCxrwOd4TRfqnteTXqQjQywV4ef8AZMW0soKQ2AvlL9kyjRH76MBbAVcsno9mf2-vhtS4GFfMyUWq0dXDQ8U_n_K5VOtjdQYMtNbQInLen3EMJZ9eTQnLnbF/s1600/Mar12_HE6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittTGf3nVoJFInA5N84prMnCxrwOd4TRfqnteTXqQjQywV4ef8AZMW0soKQ2AvlL9kyjRH76MBbAVcsno9mf2-vhtS4GFfMyUWq0dXDQ8U_n_K5VOtjdQYMtNbQInLen3EMJZ9eTQnLnbF/s1600/Mar12_HE6a.jpg" /></a></div>
I grew up with this soap, and as I got older, I realized that Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap was the kind of thing hippie-type folks were prone to having on hand, which makes sense given my context for it. I recently read about coconut oil being great for your skin (and a million other things; Jenna Marbles sums it up <a href="http://jennamarblesblog.com/this.html">nicely</a>), and wanted to try it - regular readers of this blog may remember that I usually clean my face with olive oil - and someone suggested that Dr. Bronner's was the best place to get coconut oil. I was disappointed to discover that there is no pseudo-religious babble on the coconut oil container, though it does say "Dr' Bronner's MAGIC 'ALL-ONE'," which I suppose is pretty good. It IS fair trade and organic, which in reality is probably better than having a bunch of rambling on the label, so it has that going for it. However, I'm sitting here, having used some Dr. Bronner's coconut oil on my face and some of it in my morning smoothie, about to take my multivitamin and "Women's Treasure" herbal supplement with my nettle infusion as recommended by my herbalist (the fantastic <a href="http://www.melaniestours.com/">Melanie St. Ours</a>), and I'm kind of realizing that hippie is genetic and there's just no escaping it. And you know what, <i>I'm cool with that</i>, because since taking my herbs my hair and nails have been super strong and luxurious and my whole life is more balanced, and right now guys my face is as smooth as the most angelic little cherub's butt. I embrace the hippiedoodlery. <br />
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Note on the coconut oil: barring any weird skin freakouts, I will be switching over to coconut oil for everything. I find that the olive oil still removes makeup a little better. However, there was always the "smelling vaguely like a salad" aspect of using olive oil, and now I can instead smell like a coconut, which is preferable by far. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I bet you could add in some other essential oil to make a scent you might prefer, as long as you chose something that wouldn't irritate your skin. The main challenge would be blending it properly; the coconut oil is a solid at regular room temperature, so I guess you could warm the oil in a pot of water (i.e. put the open jar in a pan of water), mix the additional oil in, then let it set up again. I'm going to try it! I will report back soon.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-91314192698057288752012-03-31T14:38:00.002-04:002012-03-31T14:38:47.524-04:00DIY Pore Strips: Getting To Know Your IngredientsPore strips: the most entertaining grossness-based bathroom activity this side of the neti pot. Also? Not cheap. A while back I came across Michelle Phan's video for pore strips and thought "huh, that seems neat," and then forgot about it for about a year and a half, <i>obviously</i>. Listen, The Lucy just told me she took my advice on <a href="http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P217905">Makeup Forever's HD Foundation</a> after two years, therefore two years is an acceptable and standard unit of procrastination BE IT SO ORDERED.<br />
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Anyway, to make your own pore strips, you take a tablespoon of unflavored gelatin and a tablespoon of milk, mix them up, nuke 'em for 10 seconds, then slop it on your nose (or wherever) and let it dry. Here's Michelle's video.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-bjOB4zS0uE" width="560"></iframe><br />
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I tried this today, and I have to say I'm kind of lukewarm on the result. It may be that I pulled it off a little early, because I'm not good at being patient about pore strips in the best circumstances, but I didn't find the experience as thrilling as the storebought version. That said, it did take a bunch of the oil off my face, and that's a plus. Here are the pros and cons of my personal experience with this method. <br />
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CONS!<br />
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<ul>
<li>Not as effective at dredging stuff out of your pores. While oil came off easily (yay!) I got a minimum of those creepy plugs that come up with the Biore strips. </li>
<li>You have to find Knox gelatin. If you can't find it on your own, you will have to ask a teenager at the supermarket. They will not know what it is. </li>
<li>It smells like a foot. Oh my sweet jalopy does it smell like a foot. This would be less of a concern if you were applying this to, for instance, your own foot, but since it's likely going on your nose, it's kind of an issue. If you're sensitive to smells, this is probably not a great option for you.</li>
<li>It will look like you have gross boogers all over your face. </li>
</ul>
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PROS!</div>
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<ul>
<li>WAY cheaper. Knox gelatin costs about $1.86 for a box of five packets (each packet a tablespoon). Biore strips are $6.89 for six strips on Drugstore.com. That box of Knox is at least five uses per box, and maybe more...I didn't try saving and reheating the goop, so it's possible you could get more than one use out of each packet, and you could <i>certainly</i> get a greater area out of each one than the strips allow. </li>
<li>It's much easier on the skin. Sometimes the Biore strips can be a little aggressive, but this method peeled off easily and without yanking my skin. It was also minimally drying and either absorbed or removed a lot of excess oil from my face. </li>
<li>Easier on the environment. With Biore strips you have a cardboard box, foil packet, plastic backing and a cloth or paper strip. With the gelatin you have a box and a paper packet; less materials and all the way recyclable. Fight your wasteful American ways!!</li>
<li>It will look like you have gross boogers all over your face. I list this here because it is hilarious and I am four.</li>
</ul>
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I'd say this is worth a try, especially if you're a little light on the funds, but I did not find the results to be equivalent. It's possible that with time I will get better at it, but I have to say this isn't the top of my DIY successes, unlike the use of olive oil for cleansing or apple cider vinegar and baking soda to clean my hair. Give it a try and tell me what you think!</div>
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</div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-5097336278281567502012-03-05T22:55:00.000-05:002012-03-05T22:55:59.039-05:00I Have Some Thoughts on This Sandra Fluke Thing1. Hormonal birth control does not increase in volume per fuck. If I don't fuck anyone, birth control requires 28 pills, one ring or one patch per month. If I fuck ALL the people, birth control requires 28 pills, one ring, or one patch per month.<br />
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2. Not everyone takes hormonal birth control for birth control. I know this sounds crazy to people who don't have vaginas but that is indeed the case. <a href="http://theoutlawjosie.blogspot.com/2011/05/today-i-got-iud-and-it-ruled.html">I was one of them.</a><br />
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3. The above point, which has been raised in the media, is none of your fucking business. It is the business of the owner of the vagina in question and the doctor said vagina-owner chooses. <br />
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4. None of the above points, nor anything about anyone's medical history, tells you a damn thing about their sexual history nor gives you license to comment on it. <br />
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5. Ignoring point #4 makes you an outrageous misogynistic asshole.<br />
<br />
6. As desperately as I would like to not have to think about point #5, it's a little bit hilarious to watch you - and obviously here I mean Rush Limbaugh specifically, but most of the right-wing media personalities generally - show just how ignorant and gross you are, several months before an election, by being all "HERP A DERP DERP, HOW DO LADY PARTS WORK" from inside your own ass. Keep it you, you slut-shaming assholes. Looking forward to November.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBP6_czQ2X0uNluE0SdjVk0OgTr5EdPDGDT0mxizn5A9PsZaSDQ9b7s9gxIm-Kyjph263y-yRdHFaPdHq5pj9aG1PB2QbGF0ZV2G7kFgwwB-3Hk-J76U94HBYPuz_B66guvzUdlea-qQxO/s1600/mic-drop-charlie-murphy_o_GIFSoup.com.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBP6_czQ2X0uNluE0SdjVk0OgTr5EdPDGDT0mxizn5A9PsZaSDQ9b7s9gxIm-Kyjph263y-yRdHFaPdHq5pj9aG1PB2QbGF0ZV2G7kFgwwB-3Hk-J76U94HBYPuz_B66guvzUdlea-qQxO/s1600/mic-drop-charlie-murphy_o_GIFSoup.com.gif" /></a></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-62341134009259923152012-03-04T08:00:00.007-05:002012-03-04T08:00:05.505-05:00Land of the Free<div>On Monday, Saudi Prince Turki al-Faisal al-Sa'ud appeared at the National Press Club, and journalist Sam Husseini asked him a question that I'm sure was extremely uncomfortable, to wit: </div><blockquote class="tr_bq">There's been a lot of talk about the legitimacy of the Syrian regime, I want to know what legitimacy your regime has, sir. You come before us, representative of one of the most autocratic, misogynistic regimes on the face of the earth. Human Rights Watch and other reports of torture detention of activist, you squelched the democratic uprising in Bahrain, you tried to overturn the democratic uprising in Egypt and indeed you continue to oppress your own people. What legitimacy does you regime have -- other than billions of dollars and weapons?</blockquote>After some dancing around and several inquiries about whether or not Husseini had been to Saudi Arabia (...?), Prince Turki finally did respond, sort of:<br />
<br />
<div><blockquote class="tr_bq">Anyway ladies and gentlemen I advise anybody who has these questions to come to the kingdom and see for themselves. I don't need to justify my country's legitimacy. We're participants in all of the international organizations and we contribute to the welfare of people through aid program not just directly from Saudi Arabia but through all the international agencies that are working throughout the world to provide help and support for people. We admit this, as I said that we have many challenges inside our country and those challenges we are hoping to address and be reformed by evolution, as I said, and not by revolution. So that is the way that we are leading, by admitting that we have shortcomings. Not only do we recognize the shortcomings, but hopefully put in place actions and programs that would overcome these shortcomings. I have mentioned the fact that when you call Saudi Arabia a misogynistic country that women in Saudi Arabia can now not only vote, but also participate as candidates in elections and be members of the Shura Council. And I just refer you to your own experience to your women's rights, when did your women get right to vote? After how many years since the establishment of the United States did women get to vote in the United States? Does that mean that before they got the vote that United States was an illegitimate country? According to his definition, obviously. So, until, when was it -- 1910 when women got to vote -- from 1789 to 1910 United States was illegitimate? This is how you should measure things, by how people recognize their faults and try to overcome them.</blockquote><div>Husseini raises an excellent point in <a href="http://husseini.posterous.com/journalist-questions-legitimacy-of-saudi-regi">his post about the incident</a>, and his commentary explains why he is both a better man and a better journalist than I ever can or will possibly be: </div><blockquote class="tr_bq">I was very glad to get the question in and and I was happy that Turki responded. I think his response opens the door to a lot more serious reporting. For example, Turki's response that Saudi Arabia gets legitimacy because of its aid programs is an interesting notion. Is he arguing that by giving aid to other countries and to international organizations that the Saudi regime has somehow purchased legitimacy, and perhaps immunity from criticism, that it would otherwise not have received? This is worth journalists and independent organizations pursuing. </blockquote></div>Oh...it might seem like I'm giving him too much praise for being open minded about Turki's response. I give him an extra measure because the <i>same day</i>, Husseini was suspended from the National Press Club for his question. <br />
<br />
Here's the thing. <br />
<br />
The United States has allied itself with Saudi Arabia for decades because we need two things: their oil and their oasis of reasonable calm in a turbulent region. I am not one to immediately brush off alliances made for economic resources. While we Americans refuse to work towards a less oil-dependent nation, we need to get oil from somewhere, and right now that means either from nations of problematic politics in the MENA region or from Canada via the proposed affront to the environment that is the Keystone XL pipeline. It sucks, but here we are. If you need things and someone else has them, you trade for them. That said, it is incumbent on a nation that prides itself on its moral stature to occasionally say "this nation's human rights violations are too much to bear," and to at the very least separate the diplomatic fawning from the economic transaction. There are plenty of countries we do trade with - serious, big time trade worth significant chunks of GDP - that do not receive nearly the endorsement, defense or encouragement that we lend to Saudi Arabia. It is frankly unseemly for us to be castigating other nations in the region to act right and stop oppressing their people while shoveling money and support into Saudi Arabia as they commit the same sins.<br />
<br />
Saudi Arabia has some serious shit to answer to, and so do we. <br />
<br />
What worries me, though, isn't even Saudi Arabia's behavior or the fact that they send members of the royal family to the National Press Club to answer soft questions and lie to the world, but rather that the <i>National Press Club</i>, which despite its name is not an organ of the US government, but a private club for journalists, would suspend a member for asking a question that is extremely relevant to US foreign policy and also raises an important point about legitimacy of rulers and sovereignty generally. This is precisely the kind of soft despotism that so concerned Alexis de Tocqueville in 1835. Tocqueville was concerned that in a democracy, one would find not the despotism that jailed you or beat you or tortured you, but an even more insidious form, which would trick you into policing your<i>self</i>. He feared that citizens in democracies would become so brainwashed by the conventions of their societies that they would suppress their own freedom, without any prodding from the state. This kind of incident seems to prove Tocqueville's concerns valid, and that is a really worrying proposition for America's present and future.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-13837195742376197602012-03-03T19:26:00.001-05:002012-03-03T19:26:35.109-05:00The UnfuckeningI've been following this tumblr, <a href="http://unfuckyourhabitat.tumblr.com/">Unfuck Your Habitat</a> (...<i>hee</i>), which is a string of somewhat violent exhortations to clean interspersed with GIF-based praise for follow through. The idea is that cleaning in small chunks is much more productive and long-lasting than cleaning marathons that make you hate yourself and everything you own. It's SO TRUE YOU GUYS. The author suggests going in rounds of 20/10...20 minutes cleaning, 10 minutes of planned break. Here's a before shot:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkdnDfpc4v9imBHc33KbAYExdOy9x76Vgs11Wnb94f1xqud_8sa61sNBMp57umVuyWFHacHolRnHxmQ_WY9zu5hQJUtVDhnNTR00b0wA__BNTzn2gFxh4u1w2AHw8bZBdIQm5XA3UjExqf/s1600/IMG00098-20120303-1435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkdnDfpc4v9imBHc33KbAYExdOy9x76Vgs11Wnb94f1xqud_8sa61sNBMp57umVuyWFHacHolRnHxmQ_WY9zu5hQJUtVDhnNTR00b0wA__BNTzn2gFxh4u1w2AHw8bZBdIQm5XA3UjExqf/s320/IMG00098-20120303-1435.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Shit everywhere, hasn't seen the business end of a vaccuum in ages, nine thousand projects going on at once. Here's what it looked like after two rounds of 20/10s:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgJdwF1do5rXeTvw1bPwmpdVqYugd5OVmQ4PCa-LddBDHmDP6e1D4A27SU5A4YgoUUPGnkChNRNKCmjsExen2jP7vHV7dneR5YsEipu_fxa1DxDEcReYpwiD0PsniQaM0qhva1v6TxYD2/s1600/IMG00117-20120303-1825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgJdwF1do5rXeTvw1bPwmpdVqYugd5OVmQ4PCa-LddBDHmDP6e1D4A27SU5A4YgoUUPGnkChNRNKCmjsExen2jP7vHV7dneR5YsEipu_fxa1DxDEcReYpwiD0PsniQaM0qhva1v6TxYD2/s320/IMG00117-20120303-1825.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Vacuumed, organized, cleared. <br />
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As you can see, it didn't take me just an hour, because I had a couple non-great-room 20/10s thrown in. For instance, I took the shoes you see under the chairs in to my closet and did a 20 in there organizing my shoes and closet (more on that in a bit). But the planned breaks made everything a million times easier, and I feel super accomplished!! I highly recommend following UFYH and following the directives. Love it!Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-84486932174870074802012-02-21T15:12:00.000-05:002012-02-21T15:12:31.476-05:00This Above All: To Thine Own Self Be True<blockquote class="tr_bq"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>POLONIUS</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">This above all: to thine own self be true,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And it must follow, as the night the day,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Thou canst not then be false to any man.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!</div><i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><i><i> Hamlet, Act I, Scene 3</i></i></div></blockquote><br />
My friend Kym and I seem to be creating quite a little echo chamber of sentiment this week. She incorporated my <a href="http://theoutlawjosie.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-good-life-if-you-dont-weaken.html">recent post</a> on the Tragically Hip into <a href="http://www.xokym.com/2012/02/i-am-not-same-person-having-seen-moon.html">her thinking about her life</a> and where it would and should take her. She is in the process of thinking more about who she is and who she wants to be, and this, I think, is when you really know you're going to be okay: when you're able to look at the good and bad of your life and face it all with an understanding of who your past makes you and just how much freedom you have to choose who you will be. I loved how Kym understood my babbling about nostalgia, and the way she was able to use it as a lens through which to consider herself. It can be hard to figure out how to balance a longing for former glories with the need to direct your life forward.<br />
<br />
Kym's considerations of her life and future reminded me of something my Mom did for me. When I was young, I was really freaked out by going to the bathroom at my elementary school, and this meant that I would often come home having walked a mile while <i>desperately</i> having to go to the bathroom. Mom had a talk with me about listening to my body (presumably while thinking "this is just great, my child is going to make her bladder <i>actually explode. </i>Why did I have children, again?"), and the next day I opened my lunchbox and found a note that read "This above all: to thine own self be true" and this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zBGQOushhVAdSKj4X1SFzV6WN9l4AHADOO-FKwuNfrDc-R0JWHRadc_eAfJD_Uz_KUi3Fs3fJwxaCvT2aDO5X2rzPJq9uGSBPUqaWnAOsXjFx6vIDK_OPfFNhVt5TMCV6hes0844eW8q/s1600/cathand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zBGQOushhVAdSKj4X1SFzV6WN9l4AHADOO-FKwuNfrDc-R0JWHRadc_eAfJD_Uz_KUi3Fs3fJwxaCvT2aDO5X2rzPJq9uGSBPUqaWnAOsXjFx6vIDK_OPfFNhVt5TMCV6hes0844eW8q/s320/cathand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>That's a little cat from a Red Rose Tea box. Red Rose has been including these little things - called <a href="http://www.redrosetea.com/figurinehistory.aspx">whimsies</a>, adorably - in their tea for decades, and we used to have a lot of them. I've kept this little cat since then, and it's probably the possession I've held onto the longest; I've had it since I was 6 or 7. It reminds me of several things, first, of course, being of how amazingly lucky I am to have a mom who not only thought it was appropriate to counsel her elementary school daughter via <u>Hamlet</u>, but also <i>knew she was correct to do so</i>, since my reading level was such that I could figure out that older diction and not get thrown by "thine." It also reminds me that listening to myself is what will keep me on the right path, and that it takes continual reflection.<br />
<br />
I bring this little cat with me whenever I'm feeling nervous or trying something new. It was with me at my high school and college graduations, with me at American University and Assumption College. It was with me at orientation when I started my Ph.D at Boston University. It was with me when I debated the Cambridge Union Society and when I sang the National Anthem for the first time at the DCU Center. It was with me when I went to Obama's Inauguration and when I was inducted into Phi Sigma Tau, the Philosophy honor society. I was with me at my book release parties, at opera recitals, and next to my computer when I sent articles off to journals and conferences. It will be with me at many other key intersections of my life, because it will never stop being the most useful reminder I have.<br />
<br />
This above all: to thine own self be true.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPzlsUMpiZ4Ftt4Qr6Zhl9Zo6VQbHX6KoCE-whxkqPXqEGjLO-g2XdX24ougV445zmBS4odwoo7jTvWVondrJxQp7Hzjo_QbKO-INHXuqAB_Rl3fi5V1fZHWOAb-fg7E8bgHaDUiGHzRT/s1600/roseteacat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPzlsUMpiZ4Ftt4Qr6Zhl9Zo6VQbHX6KoCE-whxkqPXqEGjLO-g2XdX24ougV445zmBS4odwoo7jTvWVondrJxQp7Hzjo_QbKO-INHXuqAB_Rl3fi5V1fZHWOAb-fg7E8bgHaDUiGHzRT/s320/roseteacat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-33139246088756793962012-02-21T13:53:00.000-05:002012-02-21T13:53:03.873-05:00You'll Never Walk AloooooooooooneeeeeeeeeSometimes I have bad days and I'm cranky or sad or fighty, but I know in the end that I'll be okay. I know this because every now and then one of my friends will text me something like this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrtCRab_azPsMCq5P7rZNoKmR1bvYN-5aJVwgTKmr5zxlhb5JqJAYU4EM2jAtyFb-HHcOyv_ziyRiAqe6N11a1HAxEir9qJaqJc5jHftAd4GqiiYLJ3P-UWcKGSomDdschJlGWWrftuwh/s1600/imagejpeg_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrtCRab_azPsMCq5P7rZNoKmR1bvYN-5aJVwgTKmr5zxlhb5JqJAYU4EM2jAtyFb-HHcOyv_ziyRiAqe6N11a1HAxEir9qJaqJc5jHftAd4GqiiYLJ3P-UWcKGSomDdschJlGWWrftuwh/s320/imagejpeg_2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>And the text "Hi! What is new? I miss you and this reminded me of you haha"<br />
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My friends rule.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-75378688870317626122012-02-20T23:59:00.000-05:002012-02-20T23:59:26.956-05:00"Are You Tenderheaded?"I just finished Baratunde Thurston's <u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/How-Be-Black-Baratunde-Thurston/dp/0062003216/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1329797297&sr=8-1">How To Be Black</a></u>, which was hilarious, poignant and biting, and is officially the first book I actively regretted not buying in hardcopy, because the cover just says "HOW TO BE BLACK," and I feel like I'd get a lot of mileage out of my white ass reading that on the T. I've been thinking a lot about race, not only because of Thurston's book, but because I am a political scientist and political wonk, and if you're thinking about politics in the age of Barack Obama's Presidency, you are thinking about race. Race has been so visible in the past several years; it's always been there, obviously, but it feels like racism has really edged its way back into active, visible political discourse since Obama was elected, and I find that supremely disappointing. Maybe this is my liberal elitist white girl perception, but I thought we'd reached a place where, despite having what I believe is referred to in very professional academic circles as "a metric fuckton" of work to do, a majority of people kind of <i>got</i> that racism was not acceptable and that you should at least attempt to keep that shit to yourself. Not that racism was fixed, mind you, or even close to being fixed, but that we were at least moving vaguely in a positive direction.<br />
<br />
I've also been reading the very funny <a href="http://yoisthisracist.com/">"Yo, Is This Racist" tumblr</a>, which does exactly as advertised - you ask if things are racist, and the tumblr tells you what's up (hint: usually the answer is "yes"). There was one person who asked "<a href="http://yoisthisracist.com/post/13596041437/are-peas-racist">are peas racist</a>," and just got a straight "No." which had me laughing uncontrollably for some reason. I mean...peas. It occurred to someone to ask if peas were racist. That is magical. Anyway, some of them are funny and some of them take a turn for the serious, and some are both, like this one from today:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTntPKNGleP-sKoSGaQSvKfa0pWGzAQf1VwZ9AwPuBu8s3WsGnyEuK92Up8rJd3QK-qvm9Oq0NzjhfnbppJ-zZROwllvR8h7uQ4EzIxXuphhNT-gBKf4eF50KKVVbyKTy-uK4-kCdlbJK/s1600/colorblind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTntPKNGleP-sKoSGaQSvKfa0pWGzAQf1VwZ9AwPuBu8s3WsGnyEuK92Up8rJd3QK-qvm9Oq0NzjhfnbppJ-zZROwllvR8h7uQ4EzIxXuphhNT-gBKf4eF50KKVVbyKTy-uK4-kCdlbJK/s320/colorblind.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>If you read around about race a bit, you'll run into this idea, which is...really something. Basically, this person is saying that by identifying racism, you are the <i>real</i> racist, because you are insisting on defining things by race. I...look, this is a stupid argument. You cannot will racism out of being. Moreover, this is a variant of the "we should all just be colorblind!" concept. For those who might not have thought about this, that's a nice idea that is completely unrealistic and misses the point. Regardless of whether we feel like race should be a factor in our judgments of individuals or groups, race to this point has translated into enormous social inequities. These things need to be <i>addressed</i>, not just magicked away. Ignoring them ignores now fundamental inequalities and is a further injustice. It would be lovely if racism was merely a matter of people thinking bigoted thoughts, but those thoughts have manifested in very real physical, political, social and economic injuries to people and communities of color. <br />
<br />
This is also an idea that can only come from people who are able to opt out of racial considerations. I don't think it's exclusively limited to white people, because I think there are people of color who have reached different places of privilege that allow them to shed some of the weight of racism, but I'm comfortable saying it's <i>mostly</i> white people. The word "privilege" gets tossed around a lot here, and it's accurate, though I think some people use it as an insult, and that's not quite right. Having privilege doesn't mean you are somehow bad, but is instead an understanding that your particular experience as a member of a certain group gives you a certain limited perspective even as it gives you an elevated stature in society. There's nothing you can do about it, just like there isn't anything you can do about being born <i>without</i> privilege, but you can acknowledge it and work to see what you might be missing in your consideration and arguments as a result of your privilege. It comes down to this: a straight, cisgendered white girl from Massachusetts like me doesn't <i>need</i> to think about race unless she decides to. The first time I heard about the concept of privilege, I thought immediately of one particular incident, and I thought of it again today when I read the comment from Yo, Is This Racist? today. Here's the story.<br />
<br />
When I was living in DC and attending American University, I was on my own for the first time. I needed a haircut and I was over by the Metro; I needed to meet someone on Wisconsin Avenue, I think. I remembered seeing a hair salon in the area, and being in an adventurey kind of mood, I wanted to try it out. I walked down to Brandywine and strolled into the salon...which specialized in black hair. I cannot remember a time when I felt more visible and out of place in my life. All at once, I realized <i>how fucking white my life was</i>, and how reliably I could count on at least some other white people being in any group I was a part of, because there was not a single white person in there, and the place was packed. A super nice lady asked me what she could help me with, and she was able to get me in for a haircut, which was sweet. I went over to the shampoo place, where this giant, awesome guy asked me in this mumbly, quiet voice, if I was tenderheaded. Well, first he asked me, "'r'you tndhrphmmer?" which I didn't quite catch, but when I asked him to repeat it, I still didn't know what the shit "tenderheaded" was, so that didn't really resolve anything. I went with "not really," figuring I could hedge my bets, and then quickly learned that he'd asked basically to figure out how hard he could yank my hair around and how hard he could massage my scalp. (Note: I am, in fact, tenderheaded as hell.) After that, I went over to the chair and got a great haircut. It was actually a great experience for a variety of reasons, but I was never unaware of being white. <br />
<br />
That's why I feel like it's my job to be aware of race and to listen to people of color and work to resolve racial conflict in our society; for me, that was one haircut's worth of continually being aware of my race, but for people of color, that's continual. My race, in that shop, was my defining characteristic, and I had no say over that. It wasn't that way because I'd come in and been all "CAN A WHITE GIRL GET A HAIRCUT, BLACK PEOPLE??" or something I did to call attention to it - it was the simple, visual context for me by dint of everyone else being another way. When I left that shop, I could return to my white world. It's worth noting that everyone there was super nice, and my being white carried no particular penalty, but this, as we know, is not always the case for people of color. The project is NOT to make sure everyone can go to their white world, their black world, their brown world, etc., but rather to create one world that is devoid of racial <i>penalty</i>. This means accepting that people look different, and their appearances call up certain cultural contexts. It means recognizing those cultural connotations and adjusting our worldview so we can eventually take people as they are. But we cannot get to that place without recognizing and considering race.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-32723801852974976782012-02-17T21:40:00.000-05:002012-02-17T21:40:34.872-05:00It's A Good Life If You Don't WeakenEvery Tuesday and Thursday I take the Framingham/Worcester commuter rail from Worcester to Boston. This ride takes me through a corridor of industry past and present - through the burgeoning CSX rail yard in Worcester, past the Dennison factory in Framingham, then into the houses of rich people in the Bostonian suburbs. Threaded through all of this is the rough nature of Massachusetts, with its brown grasses and naked limbs, following the curves of scrubby streams. There's a pair of swans I look at, usually in the pond next to the pump house at Framingham that I sometimes imagine living in. In the spring, skunk cabbage rushes up everywhere. The whole landscape is littered with tires, trash, the occasional sofa. I don't see a lot of nearby animals, which is a funny contrast to the regularity with which I see mice scurrying around on the tracks while I wait inside for the red line train at Park Street. Inside, life by the third rail; outside, not a creature stirring.<br />
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When I make this trip, I'm usually listening to the Tragically Hip. Several years ago, my friend Ben asked me if I wanted to go to a Hip concert in Boston at what used to be the Avalon and is now the House of Blues. I'd never heard of them, but I went anyway. It was one of those beautiful nights where you get out of the T station and feel the air wash over you like it's thrilled you could make it. The Red Sox were playing the Yankees, so I had to wait three trains before I could elbow my way into the sea of red and navy. I wound up squished next to the only other four people on the train who were going to the concert, Canadians who followed me out of the T station yelling to each other, "come on, come on, she KNOWS," which was great - here I am being credited with mystical navigational skills, and the only real secret was to follow everyone else. The concert was one of the first I've enjoyed as an event. I usually like concerts fine, but wouldn't necessarily say they're a thing I like to do. I came home and started listening to the Hip.<br />
<br />
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<br />
In the beginning, I responded to the sound of the Hip, rather than the specific lyrics, because I simply didn't KNOW enough of the latter to get all that excited about them. Even that sound, though, speaks of a particular kind of experience. There is a gentleness to their music, that I think is an admission that we all need it. We need some softness in our lives because we are always in transit and always about to fall. That this should be so evident even in the sound of their music speaks quite clearly to my experience of Canadians themselves. While I have met some really remarkable Canadians, I've also met some real assholes, people who I truly wanted to punch in the face. Still, this quietness rests in all of them, a quiet strength that comes from something shared.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9xIaBcfL6vU" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
When I started listening to enough that I learned the lyrics, I decided two things: that the Hip might be too smart for me, and that they pull from a deeply enviable kind of nostalgia. I say they might be too smart for me because their references - historical, literary, hockey related - are so various and occasionally so subtle that I feel I could study them for years and still not be able to hang them all together in a frame...or else study them for years and find some kind of epic blueprint for Canadian world domination. I'm sure that people who have loved the Hip longer and better than I have tried this; I have a long road ahead.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bk6IWzU7kWA" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
But that second point, I think, is why I listen to them on the train so often. Nostalgia for nostalgia's sake isn't always good; there are a lot of people in America right now desperately striving towards the past in the name of a misplaced nostalgia for a simpler time, as though the political conflicts and worries that we are staring down today didn't exist back then, forgetting that there were even bigger problems and yet more injustice. This points to a fundamental misunderstanding of what politics are. Politics are the navigation of our law through the stormy seas of human interaction. Whatever form they take, political discourses are an attempt to sort out how to let each person be human. That doesn't change. But there is a nostalgia that fits with these shifting tides, and this is a sense of what was good and what was achieved, and the soft, glowing pride that attends those things and pushes us towards the future. <br />
<br />
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<br />
Right now, I think this nostalgia attaches itself most often to our thoughts about industry in America, and in Canada as well. We are linked together whether we like it or not. We are brothers, with all that entails - the competition, the cross-purposes, the conflict, the conspiracy, the love. I think we conceive of industry in the same way as well. These are nations built on industry, and now industry is fading, to make way for new economies. While we want to succeed in these new economies, I think we see our work in old industry as being fundamentally <i>about</i> being Canadian, being American. This is the industry my train passes through, and it's particularly poignant to see how some industry is continuing on, wearing a mantle of rust, and some has been reconstituted into the new world, like the Dennison building by Framingham. It's still a giant heap of brick, with a massive window sporting an ornate blue Dennison "D," through which light once shone on a paper milling floor. The window is still there, though the machines have quieted and changed. This is how the Hip feels to me. Their songs feel like fondness for making things on the strength of our backs, and standing on shifting sands. Their songs feel like a reminder that things are good, even if they're not the same. They're songs about working men, and about quiet strength. I love those songs for that. <br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/H6-Vn0kxUFA" width="420"></iframe>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-6383878989367432502012-01-12T13:43:00.000-05:002012-01-12T13:43:39.057-05:00I Love Me a Tropical Vacation, but......after 28 years of living in snowy climates*, I still react to snow like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7wAsqPnTTs11ZcMZ1gUmEub_Eba5QM2oPvK9B9J440Ms-EuurTqd6izEVmA0EfbScK1q-NxhOVVQQs16qAFlrKqcHW_vlDZ6lDVzhMmYiwdvBvudolofOw78_XV0QUy-nSoP3u_R3tzO/s1600/SNOWLOOKSNOWOMG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic7wAsqPnTTs11ZcMZ1gUmEub_Eba5QM2oPvK9B9J440Ms-EuurTqd6izEVmA0EfbScK1q-NxhOVVQQs16qAFlrKqcHW_vlDZ6lDVzhMmYiwdvBvudolofOw78_XV0QUy-nSoP3u_R3tzO/s400/SNOWLOOKSNOWOMG.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"SNOW OMG SNOW LOOK AT THE SNOW OMG OMG OMG!!!!" </i><a href="http://narcelx.tumblr.com/post/15713680616/arab-winter">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>...and that tells me I'm always going to live amidst snow and ice.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* Yeah, you too, DC. I'm not buying into that creepy mass amnesia you people get about the fact that it snows every damn year.</span>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-90737603548466374612012-01-12T12:49:00.000-05:002012-01-12T12:49:40.385-05:00Our Love is Like Byzantium<div><i>I don't really like poetry generally, but when I DO like it, I love it. Like this one.</i></div><div><br />
</div>Our love is like Byzantium<br />
must have been<br />
on the last evening. There must have been<br />
I imagine<br />
a glow on the faces<br />
of those who crowded the streets<br />
or stood in small groups<br />
on streetcorners and public squares<br />
speaking together in low voices<br />
that must have resembled<br />
the glow your face has<br />
when you brush your hair back<br />
and look at me.<br />
<br />
I imagine they haven't spoken<br />
much, and about rather<br />
ordinary things<br />
that they have been trying to say<br />
and have stopped<br />
without having managed to express<br />
what they wanted<br />
and have been trying again<br />
and given up again<br />
and have been loking at each other<br />
and lowered their eyes.<br />
<br />
Very old icons, for instance,<br />
have that kind of glow<br />
the blaze of a burning city<br />
or the glow which approaching death<br />
leaves on photographs of people who died young<br />
in the memory of those left behind.<br />
<br />
When I turn towards you<br />
in bed, I have a feeling<br />
of stepping into a church<br />
that was burned down long ago<br />
and where only the darkness in the eyes of the icons<br />
has remained<br />
filled with the flames<br />
which annihilated them.<br />
<br />
--Henrik Nordbrandt<br />
(translated by Henrik Nordbrandt and Alexander Taylor)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRiH6EgaUwcKufsjbhsU1czKqZPDYmhPQaQ8H-uHktbTmAvWrWZwPvJgbdcPEy3NdUp97LgRuxauBXJLEqAMxwOpuUbbTDq97gIfpRseNpaMIN_iT93uFaPNhOjFzDXH6n2JhUsXMXlak/s1600/icon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRiH6EgaUwcKufsjbhsU1czKqZPDYmhPQaQ8H-uHktbTmAvWrWZwPvJgbdcPEy3NdUp97LgRuxauBXJLEqAMxwOpuUbbTDq97gIfpRseNpaMIN_iT93uFaPNhOjFzDXH6n2JhUsXMXlak/s320/icon.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theotokos_of_Vladimir">The <i>Theotokos of Vladimir</i></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-9685433058793552032012-01-11T08:00:00.000-05:002012-01-11T08:00:11.948-05:00Don't Worry Everyone Awesome Hockey is ComingAs you know, I've been supportive of the Occupy movement, and I've been talking with a friend about what needs to get occupied (also when the guillotines should be deployed, but whatever, details.) and every now and then it's like "OCCUPY MOSCOW!" and then we remember that, you know, Putin.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjPuXW0Vfr85xtBrf-sUSzLJkT6Z3J3jN2h0pDgH7xeo_At7ZKIF1o76-20Ilv8p1rizI5lSNUZuWbbzTr5TMjPNREyMp6-hc-Q3YW_wugUhCkfbLg9swpmv3HK9Yb6Idl9wkcosWZNA9/s1600/PutinNo.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjPuXW0Vfr85xtBrf-sUSzLJkT6Z3J3jN2h0pDgH7xeo_At7ZKIF1o76-20Ilv8p1rizI5lSNUZuWbbzTr5TMjPNREyMp6-hc-Q3YW_wugUhCkfbLg9swpmv3HK9Yb6Idl9wkcosWZNA9/s200/PutinNo.GIF" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nyet."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>So that's suppressive. And then we think of some other things to occupy, and then eventually, "OCCUPY ST. PETERSBURG!"</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjPuXW0Vfr85xtBrf-sUSzLJkT6Z3J3jN2h0pDgH7xeo_At7ZKIF1o76-20Ilv8p1rizI5lSNUZuWbbzTr5TMjPNREyMp6-hc-Q3YW_wugUhCkfbLg9swpmv3HK9Yb6Idl9wkcosWZNA9/s1600/PutinNo.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjPuXW0Vfr85xtBrf-sUSzLJkT6Z3J3jN2h0pDgH7xeo_At7ZKIF1o76-20Ilv8p1rizI5lSNUZuWbbzTr5TMjPNREyMp6-hc-Q3YW_wugUhCkfbLg9swpmv3HK9Yb6Idl9wkcosWZNA9/s200/PutinNo.GIF" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Nyet."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Every now and then we try to switch it up old school with some "OCCUPY STALINGRAD!" action but it really always comes down to "nyet" and we kind of had to give up the dream of Occupying Moscow because the "ex" in "ex-KGB" is silent and no one wants to mess with Putin because he is terrifying. It's hard to give up your dreams sometimes but that's what you have to do. </div><div><br />
</div>Let's shelve that for a second and talk about another thing that we argue about, that being why the NHL All Star Game sucks. There is general agreement that the All Star Game sucks because Gary Bettman is an ass, because that is the stock explanation for anything in hockey sucking for us, but there's also a consensus that the All Star Game sucks because there's no pride being played for. The example that my friend usually defaults to is that of the 1979 Challenge Cup, which replaced the All Star Game and featured the NHL's best versus the Soviet hockey team, which was at the time one of the most dominant forces in the world. In that series, there was a real us vs. them feel, and the hockey was spectacular.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1lBOHcxA2ak" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
This conversation usually devolves into "so if we could just get some Soviets back, we could have good hockey at the All Star Game again, even though everyone would get gulaged again and that would be bad." And then we sigh wistfully because obviously with Putin (...nyet) in charge, things will continue to get <i>managed</i> because that is what he is good at. <br />
<br />
And then this happened.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTop9Ew85jNGZbFWajmboT22t0dEsxax0R-fWdnCgNTqaA2ORdDA1Rdk4LHvzu1GGZBzvN7mPUukFk3fH1FdG6vqLBVgIJpOrvW3tzbSkD8Eac4EWfwJHypcGnANkDDsnEOorCADHQfew/s1600/NYET.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTop9Ew85jNGZbFWajmboT22t0dEsxax0R-fWdnCgNTqaA2ORdDA1Rdk4LHvzu1GGZBzvN7mPUukFk3fH1FdG6vqLBVgIJpOrvW3tzbSkD8Eac4EWfwJHypcGnANkDDsnEOorCADHQfew/s400/NYET.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"No, YOU nyet!"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Russians are out in the streets protesting their faces off over the most recent election results, which featured <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/2011/dec/10/russia-elections-putin-protest"><i>extravagant </i>election fraud</a> and made everyone angry (and rightfully so), turning out up to 100,000 people into the streets in protest, which in Russia at pretty much any point in the past 100+ years is remarkable. Needless to say, I decided that this would lead to an incredibly tight crackdown from the Putin government, leading to a new Soviet era and thus <i>good hockey again</i>. How could this possibly go wrong?? I, for one, can't wait. <br />
<br />
PS - effin' YOU GO, Russia! Don't give up!Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-80656112945708756012012-01-06T11:51:00.001-05:002012-01-06T11:52:44.736-05:00Get Help Early and Often<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66Cz3c7g2Gfm8hdapfR-L9tjBqFMzA5rtFQrYcvHl8ZiX3gkPPMZrYJYTlfDnFCLSypMCBVAP3J7DhaldrJayjA56nDKN1XZsp7ENFVuCsdfSAAAf48AEWgNOTcP8CxoAxCGu_Cm2oKq9/s1600/tcav.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66Cz3c7g2Gfm8hdapfR-L9tjBqFMzA5rtFQrYcvHl8ZiX3gkPPMZrYJYTlfDnFCLSypMCBVAP3J7DhaldrJayjA56nDKN1XZsp7ENFVuCsdfSAAAf48AEWgNOTcP8CxoAxCGu_Cm2oKq9/s1600/tcav.jpg" /></a></div>Last year, one of the Worcester Sharks committed suicide. His name was <a href="http://blogs.mercurynews.com/sharks/2011/01/07/sad-news-former-sharks-prospect-tom-cavanagh-found-dead-at-a-rhode-island-mall/">Tom Cavanaugh</a> and he was a local boy who came from a big hockey family in Rhode Island and played at Harvard. After his death, his long struggle with mental illness came out in the open. This was a huge shock for a lot of people, because Tom Cavanaugh was a <i>uniformly</i> charming, bright, sparkling person in public to most of us who had met him, be it in passing or more closely. He seemed to genuinely enjoy his hockey community, and I think he probably did - but the reality of mental illness is that it <i>is </i>a rollercoaster: you can be doing something you love and have moments of real joy, but the next moment be dragged down into the murk. This surprise, I think, speaks volumes of the way we think about mental illness. We confuse putting a brave face on with being okay, and making it through the day with success or happiness. <br />
<br />
I know this in part because I have struggled with depression and anxiety for most of my adult life, and whenever I tell people this, they are surprised. I'm generally an upbeat person, particularly so in public, so the idea that I get depressed is surprising to people. My depression is not crippling, as it can be for others, but it is still something I have to be aware of and seek treatment for at certain times. I have been lucky enough to have truly supportive people in my life who have encouraged me and borne me up when I was having a rough time of it. <br />
<br />
I don't think there's a person on this planet who wouldn't benefit from some talk therapy. There is something so helpful in having a neutral audience who can make suggestions based on knowledge and experience. I mentioned the surprise that people express when I mention my depression, and that's part of why a neutral audience is so important; a therapist is trained to keep their personal connection with you (should they develop one) out of it. As I said above, I have amazing friends and family who have been supportive of me, but when I express my persistent anxiety that I am not smart, or not smart <i>enough</i>, most of those friends and family brush that off, often saying that I am the - or one of the - smartest people they know. That's awesome to hear, obviously, and intellectually I know that I am plenty smart, but that doesn't mean I don't stress about it. My anxiety is not rational. A therapist can help me talk through that in a way that's difficult for friends to do, because...they're our friends! Friends think their friends are awesome! It's a rare friend who can step back enough to work through depression and anxiety with you without judgment or instability, and I'm not sure that <i>should</i> be a friend's responsibility. <br />
<br />
I encourage everyone to consider talk therapy, whether they are momentarily stressed or persistently traumatized. You should also go into therapy remembering that the first person you see might not be the right fit for you! I've been to many therapists, and not all of them have been effective for me - some wanted me to write things down, some wanted to trace back problems to the root, some wanted to spend a ton of time on building a history, some just wanted to get some coping mechanisms in place. Therapists are people, and you might not click with them, just like you might not click with some coworkers. Keep trying. Don't be afraid to ask if an initial consult is free. Don't give up! And remember: mental illness doesn't make you weak and it doesn't make you not awesome. Some of us who suffer with it are doing exactly what they love, looking like everything is perfect. Happiness and opportunity don't exempt you from mental illness, and mental illness doesn't have to bar you from happiness and opportunity. <br />
<br />
If you are having suicidal thoughts, you can call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline for free 24/7 at (800) 273-TALK or <a href="http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/">go to their website for help</a>. If you are looking for mental health resources, check out SAMHSA's lookup on their <a href="http://store.samhsa.gov/mhlocator">website</a>. You can also look for local therapists through <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/">Psychology Today</a>, your health insurance provider's website, or even sites like <a href="http://www.yelp.com/">Yelp</a>. Don't be afraid - they're there for <i>you.</i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDL-UWcl3MPATuLb5H_7xOqyxNCoQnBuWawxW__ZFDzPIi-ESA___fh9RvL0EYGM9XWQZ9EghntTbeUHcF9JIklRAAxE_PNOy8xSF7Thejse2UlUrAK-qHkwVEqtfNX-R1Ft6ruCiGgRH/s1600/cavsjoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgDL-UWcl3MPATuLb5H_7xOqyxNCoQnBuWawxW__ZFDzPIi-ESA___fh9RvL0EYGM9XWQZ9EghntTbeUHcF9JIklRAAxE_PNOy8xSF7Thejse2UlUrAK-qHkwVEqtfNX-R1Ft6ruCiGgRH/s320/cavsjoe.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rest well, Tom.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><i><br />
</i>Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-20665239636767459802011-11-20T11:35:00.000-05:002011-11-20T11:35:48.429-05:00Sports Thoughts Potpourri1. The...NFL Network's panel of Football Discussing Types just demonstrated, in about three lines, why I don't watch a lot of sports commentary on TV. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">Football Dude #1: What is it gonna take for a team to beat [some team I forgot already because I don't care]?<br />
Football Dude #2: Well, it's gonna have to be a team that scores a lot of points.</blockquote><br />
I understand that this roughly means "'cause there's no stopping that offense" and all but man, that is some dumb-sounding shit. These guys are getting paid more than I'll probably see in a lifetime to issue inane comments like that. I don't even know.<br />
<br />
2. The only way American hockey broadcasts are going to get more viewership is if they kidnap all the video and production guys from Hockey Night in Canada. Hockey is a hard game to put on TV and every US network who has tried has failed dramatically. Unfortunately, it's going to have to be kidnapping, because no way is Canada allowing those people to leave the Great White North. In turn, this means we're going to have to have a war. "No problem!" you may say, "America's overblown military-industrial complex will handle the Canadian invasion in a <i>thrice</i>!" If you say this, you are underestimating the passion of our neighbors to the north as far as their hockey goes. It would be like Thermopylae in that piece.<br />
<br />
3. I'm pretty sure everyone should just elect Tim Tebow to something and have done with it. I don't know much about him, but it does seem that every sports outlet on the planet is going to great lengths to avoid saying he's really just not that good, yet everyone seems to agree that he's just a really nice dude and people like him. He was on <i>The Daily Show</i> and he charmed my face off, I understand this. However, maybe we should stop trying to make Tim Tebow happen and just let him get on with his career as a Congressperson or life coach or official hug therapist or whatever because now I'm starting to hate him and <i>I don't even fully understand who he is or why anyone cares</i>.<br />
<br />
Those are my thoughts on sports for the day.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-87847898507408587302011-11-18T10:10:00.000-05:002011-11-18T10:10:58.245-05:00Math, We Meet Again.I very clearly remember a commercial from when I was a kid that featured a college type student running into a classroom late, seeing an abundance of incomprehensible math on the chalkboard and a droning teacher, and realizing he was in the wrong class. Who knows what was being sold in this commercial (alarm clocks?), but it stuck with me. I’m actually reasonably sure that I remember it for its college feel, having been a big honking nerd from a young age, but it turns out that the MATH part also stuck with me, because when I had nervous dreams about college before starting undergrad, they often featured those same walls of horrifying math.<br />
<br />
I have never been good at math. This applies to all math, starting from a very basic level. I have many friends who, because they are kind and wonderful, cannot comprehend the depth and breadth of my math problems, the logic being something like “but you are smart, math should not be hard for you.” This may be true, but does not change the reality of my math situation. I would like to be good at math. I actually quite enjoy the application of math – I’m very good at Physics, of all things – and I really enjoy the satisfying “this is THE answer because MATH” conclusions that are possible. Even setting up algebra problems is reasonably satisfying to me. I like the order of it all. The problem is that I am the queen of basic math errors and I have a hard time connecting the math I’m doing to an actual result. I think this is why I like geometry but hate more or less everything else. If you do yourself some geometry, you can get your protractor out (oh man, I love protractors!) and you can test that shit on paper. The basic math issues are compounded by the basic limits of my math education; I only took Algebra I and II, Geometry and Trigonometry. No Calculus, not even pre-Calc. <br />
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Needless to say, this is making my Quantitative Research Methods class a little horrible.<br />
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If anyone is one of those political scientists who is like “I-I-I-I-I-I-I don’t wanna debate, I just wanna run me some stats all day,” I have a professor you need to meet. Two, actually, because I know that one of our other professors is like this too. The poor soul tasked with teaching me statistics is all over the math stuff, and he’s actually quite good at connecting it all with real world scenarios, which is endlessly helpful, but he also does a LOT of mathing and he appears to think that it explains something to me, which of course it does not because I do not speak math. The main problem is that I need some kind of remedial course and the professor has been lead to believe that he has been given people who are at least marginally competent. This brings me back to the classroom ad, because Quant has brought my nightmares to life. I have adopted a coping mechanism I like to call Write Everything Down Meticulously and then Hope that Later It Will Make Sense, Perhaps After I Skype My Friend Dan, Dan the Mathy Man. I try to note wherever the professor indicates some kind of revelation, to wit:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0B6pnoPn6ist-miiaPiHognCYMXeahqS3URBb6v4AQBSkl-bn0rcB3zZiSP9rEgAQMp_a2BidE2Yk-kg6B7dPBxEY_WG6vcg9gtmbp_QmxxrvaAEDoMdc1HIcozgmWHtwF81uE8r_QV1I/s1600/TADAWTF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0B6pnoPn6ist-miiaPiHognCYMXeahqS3URBb6v4AQBSkl-bn0rcB3zZiSP9rEgAQMp_a2BidE2Yk-kg6B7dPBxEY_WG6vcg9gtmbp_QmxxrvaAEDoMdc1HIcozgmWHtwF81uE8r_QV1I/s320/TADAWTF.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Oh, by the way, that’s the third page of that proof. The rest of it looked like this: <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxwpD-roLQTMNTqJqIm3AWan2LWLaaDXYdt8GD2nJ6oGoWOE3tQwvUO1Or6PbIS37q8wWleUoQoFYppZ58CiIZQXLSBhyZXILek1mklai5s-RIuAkPG5UqgaDHW4vw5nYII99Ga91A2v8/s1600/Process.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxwpD-roLQTMNTqJqIm3AWan2LWLaaDXYdt8GD2nJ6oGoWOE3tQwvUO1Or6PbIS37q8wWleUoQoFYppZ58CiIZQXLSBhyZXILek1mklai5s-RIuAkPG5UqgaDHW4vw5nYII99Ga91A2v8/s320/Process.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>It's fuzzy because math is the natural enemy of cameras.<br />
Okay actually I was on a train. Whatever.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Some of you might notice that this is actually fairly difficult stats stuff. That’s because it’s toward the end of the semester, and we’re getting into regression and all that good stuff. You may be thinking, “now Josie, it’s not so bad, many people could get confused by this stuff!” Yeah, here’s some stuff from week…two or so.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeGSxo99l30YMEf40dgoiCm7V7ISUk1TNxNabohBKOtf7oOrxkYAG-vkVS3neBQoxv1lSBhAxQBqANM7LGgfDpNAmU4nbEL9w0ax0DDFZUyqvgVx-aMnzEug-d94LNKqdv-t60PSlaQKP/s1600/Whattheshit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeGSxo99l30YMEf40dgoiCm7V7ISUk1TNxNabohBKOtf7oOrxkYAG-vkVS3neBQoxv1lSBhAxQBqANM7LGgfDpNAmU4nbEL9w0ax0DDFZUyqvgVx-aMnzEug-d94LNKqdv-t60PSlaQKP/s320/Whattheshit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Now, to be fair, I finally got a handle on the above section of chaos, but I am still largely adrift. The good thing is that the professor hands us solution sheets back with our homework, so I am able to go back and take apart the problems and usually connect them to my notes. I think the problem with my notes is the same one I have had for years, that being that I'm notating something that makes sense to me in class, but then when I get home to do the homework, for whatever reason, the information has slid off my brain and the notes now correspond to nothing. <br />
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Class will be over soon and I won't have to do any more graded math, but I really wish that it would click so I could do this stuff more easily. I guess I should just pray for technology to advance until I can have math uploaded to my brain <i>Matrix</i>-style.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-91276339262870706602011-11-15T08:19:00.000-05:002011-11-15T08:19:13.180-05:00This Is About More than Occupy Wall StreetYou can agree with Occupy Wall Street or not. You can agree that the banking system is fucked and still think that Occupy is doing it wrong. You can completely disagree with <i>both</i> message and execution. All of those things are fine. But as of last night, you are no longer allowed to disregard what the behavior of the NYPD says about this country and who is running it. <br />
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Last night - in the <i>middle</i> of the night - Occupy Wall Street was forcibly removed from Zuccotti Park by heavy machinery, police in riot gear, and LRAD sound cannons. A public police force, at the behest of the Mayor of New York City, removed people exercising their First Amendment rights from a private park, and the President of the United States didn't say a goddamn thing. <br />
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There are a lot of things going on here. There is a larger question of whether a public park is appropriate to the exercise of First Amendment rights. One might argue no, and have a legitimate argument; private property is private for a reason and vice versa. However, we have begun ceding our public spaces to private control, and while this is a nice way to keep the maintenance of public spaces off the ledgers of local governments, it also means that we are ceding physical space in which we can exercise our rights as citizens. Public spaces are accepted as a public good, but we rarely explain <i>why</i> they are a public good. The Boston Public Gardens are lovely, but their virtue is not in the beautiful plantings or the swan boats. Their virtue is in the freedom of the space, the communal ownership of the land, and the chance to simply be a citizen in that space. If this is the good provided by public spaces, then we must either demand that private interests taking over the provision of public spaces maintain these freedoms or else refuse their generosity for our own collective good.<br />
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If we do accept these private/public spaces as private in ownership and control, then it is inappropriate to have public police forces managing them. Allowing private citizens into an office building does not give the building owner the right to use the police as security personnel, and neither should allowing public citizens into a private space. If the management group that owns Zuccotti Park wanted to hire private security forces to evict the Occupiers, it should have done that, and while the violence would probably have been worse, it would not have been a damaging blow to this country's civil liberties. Instead, a police force went in at the direction of a Mayor. Let us be clear: a <i>government agency </i>went in to shut down <i>a peaceful assembly</i>. <br />
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Had it not been the NYPD, maybe I wouldn't be so fucking angry. Had it not been at Mayor Bloomberg's request, maybe I wouldn't be so fucking scared. Maybe if there had been any nod towards the First Amendment's protections, I wouldn't be so fucking sad.<br />
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Some will say that the Occupiers did not have First Amendment protections in a private park. This would be a legitimate argument <i>had the NYPD not gone in</i>. It was not a private interest suppressing the Occupiers' protest, it was the government. With the involvement of a police force, it becomes a matter of First Amendment rights' suppression. This is, of course, all before we mention that the press were kicked out of the park and kept separate. It's all before we mention that this went down in the middle of the night. That tells me that the NYPD knew <i>exactly</i> how much a transgression of rights this shit was, because if they thought otherwise they'd do it in the light of day, in the light of righteousness.<br />
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Can we take a moment, too, to note that the NYPD sent in counter terrorism officers, closed down airspace over Zuccotti Park, and generally demonstrated that they have a fucking military policing New York? <br />
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And the President of the United States, a man who raised his hand on January 20th, 2009 and swore to faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of his ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, has said nothing. He has had five hours in a 24/7 world. <br />
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Shame on you, President Obama. Shame on you for allowing this to happen without condemnation. Shame on you for allowing our security state to expand and to turn on our own brothers and sisters, our fellow Americans. Shame on every public official who didn't run to New York to stand with these people and shame on every public official who didn't make a statement decrying these actions. I've spent so much time defending so many of you and reassuring people that you do mean well. I've fucking had it. Voting for everyone who isn't an incumbent isn't going to work; you're all fucking complicit in this. You mark my words, you will force this nation into a civil war, against the work of people like me, people like your staffs, people who have advised and fought and rebelled against the slow slide you thought either wouldn't matter or wouldn't be noticed. Fuck all of you, fuck your cowardice. Fuck your goddamned tunnel vision, fuck your willingness to get so deep into politicking that you can't even do the right thing. I'm exhausted and I'm fucking 28. And you know what the sad thing is? I'm not exhausted by physical fighting or anything like that...I'm exhausted by trying to defend a country I love from the people running it. Your time is coming; the world is waking up and by the time this is over, you'll be the ones exhausted.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-15809725996345637712011-11-15T07:31:00.000-05:002011-11-15T07:31:30.538-05:00Religion Is What Holds Us OverI read <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/45165318/#.TrRO5UOIm0u">a sweet story</a> today about a Jewish bakery in New York being saved from closure (and kept kosher!) by a pair of Muslim cab drivers. It's a neat story for many reasons - long time cabbie buddies embarking on a new adventure, preserving a 91 year old business, great only-in-New-York intersections, etc.:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">Peerzada Shah and Zafaryab Ali recently took ownership of the Coney Island Bialys and Bagels, a landmark fixture anchored at 2350 Coney Island Avenue for 91 years. </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">The bakery was about to shutter in September when Ali, a former staffer, learned of its demise and decided to save it — keeping it in the same spirit of its original owner, Morris Rosenzweig, a Jewish immigrant from Bialystok, Poland, who founded the shop in 1920. </blockquote>Oh and the story also features a really great quote from Shah that assures me that everything's going to be juuuuuuust fine: “It’s the same bialys, but I don't have time to talk right now, we're busy. I have to make sure customers are taken care of, because they come first.” Right on. This story is, of course, being presented as a "oh MIRACLE OF MIRACLES look, people of different religions can get along!" story, and I always find that mode of presentation very strange.<br />
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Not everyone is religious or even spiritual, which I understand, but everyone who <i>is</i> religious has to face up to the reality that they will not receive any kind of universal authority by dint of their beliefs until after their death. Faith is at its heart a belief in something that cannot be definitively proven. Though we can understand anything in the world around us as evidence of God, God's existence <i>not </i>on Earth requires that we believe it in spite of His coming down to point at the flowers or our friends or skyscrapers and claim them as His work. This is in fact why we can base such far reaching moral structures on working towards the idea of Him. If God was of this world, we would inevitably understand Him as a limited entity - limited by geography and power and volume. Our experience of "things that exist on Earth" does not allow for us to understand things we encounter as greater than we are to the extent that would be required to construct the same constructs we have build around God as we understand Him. This is also why Jesus works so compellingly as a human figure and why he needed to die in the Christian mythos; his time on Earth (as laid out in the Bible) allows us to think about what a religious life might look like, but were he immortal, his significance would ultimately decline, eroded by continuing interaction with the world. <br />
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I also like Aristotle's concept of the Unmoved Mover, laid out in the <i>Physics </i>and <i>Metaphysics</i>, where he goes through an argument that everything is material and moves, and this movement is the basis of time. He then explains that everything moves because it's continually bumping into other things, either materially or in time (stay with me here, guys), but concludes that there must be something that starts all of this movement, and settles on an Unmoved Mover, ultimately a thought thinking itself, that all of these other movers are so inspired by that they move in turn. I like this kind of aspirational love, and it's how I think of God; as something so elemental, so universal and so beautiful that we all move towards it in each movement we make. Notice that there is no moral component here. Good, bad and neutral movements are all inspired by this divine love. I think this is where our language of impulse comes from...we call ideal employments our callings and say we felt drawn to have children. We fall in love, we are drawn together. When you think about it, it is strange that when we talk about the biggest, most life changing and most definitive aspects of our lives, we so often adopt incredibly passive speech. <br />
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Now, you might think that Aristotle and I are full of hooey. Aristotle also believed that there were crystal spheres floating around moving things, and science has checked space pretty thoroughly for those to no avail. But I think that one of the beautiful things about religion is that we are able to conceive of God so differently, and that these concepts conflict. If you <i>do</i> think of God as an inspirational force in the vein of Aristotle's Unmoved Mover, it makes sense for so many of us to conceive of a divine entity differently (and not at all). It all movement is movement towards and away from this mover, it seems logical that when we try to understand it, we will have to grapple with what, precisely, it is, even though we can't ever understand it, earth-bound as we are. And too, if all things come from this one source, then all the world's religions stem from it as well. What purpose does this serve? If there is one true God and one true answer, then why allow these other religions to contradict that answer? <br />
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I think the answer must be, "to understand that one true God more completely."<br />
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It is easy to point to the Bible, or the Quran, or any other text, and say "here is the answer, in black and white." But we have all seen that this kind of manicheanism leads to the worst kind of bigotry, and the least virtuous behavior. This is, of course, because we have accepted some fellow earth-bound person's interpretation of the Divine without consideration, without interpretation, without a struggle to understand. Without intensive consideration and without argument and challenge, our religious faith is worth nothing at all. Without a struggle to do right and live by a religion's tenets in a modern and changeable world, religion shrinks down to yet another checklist, something earthly and mundane. Religions differing from ours are a way to develop our faith; all religions are a part of the same project. <br />
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Considering all this, is it really so surprising that religious people manage to get along?Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-27870707582095318692011-11-14T22:25:00.000-05:002011-11-14T22:25:37.553-05:00MeasurementWe had some startling and problematic snow up here right before Halloween. Huge power outages, chaos everywhere, the whole nine yards...the heavy snow on the still be-leaved trees wreaked absolute havoc and pulled branches down all over the place. The power was out at my house when I came home from the hockey, and stayed off for much of the next day. I went over to my parents' house, which is apparently some kind of impenetrable fortress and/or has Doc Ock's fusion reactor in the basement. When I pulled up, I saw this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YRazS78VGXNy8aHNlRQOYFg2wf-T7fYUYdNkP-H2jkPcqKHfTE3Ykt3qssy1z8jTfwDlyjrs-XA9CMy0RiZ5HfLssDjxJUhSGn5lcXbHzNGUuEN27zmcGSVAqFYeFeY-9613dAmlG9Rq/s1600/dogwood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YRazS78VGXNy8aHNlRQOYFg2wf-T7fYUYdNkP-H2jkPcqKHfTE3Ykt3qssy1z8jTfwDlyjrs-XA9CMy0RiZ5HfLssDjxJUhSGn5lcXbHzNGUuEN27zmcGSVAqFYeFeY-9613dAmlG9Rq/s400/dogwood.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That is the damaged remains of the dogwood tree my parents planted when we first moved to Worcester when I was just six months old. I had to sit in my car for a while just to compose myself, and I was struck by how powerful my response to this scene was. I thought of all the times Mom and Dad had sent us out to shake the tree in the fall and how many neighborhood bikes had been dumped under it and how many swerve moves I'd run around it on my way to wherever...it's funny how things you don't always think would be so important really are. <br />
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Goodbye, tree.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409316157934451299.post-81652234514041402302011-11-04T12:16:00.002-04:002011-11-04T12:56:57.993-04:00Truer Words Not SpokenI usually turn over all rights to the person I am writing for, but in this case I asked if I could retain them so I could print it here, because I think the points in it are important and I think someone should say these things. I'm proud of what I wrote, and I'm upset that the courage to deliver it was lacking. I should note here that the dearth of courage is not my client's, and in fact, they were ready to go it alone, but this was built as a cooperative presentation with several colleagues so it would not just be one person falling on their sword, and those others were too nervous to go through with it. I understand that, but I'm disappointed nonetheless.<br />
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I have removed delivery notations and specific references for client confidentiality, however, the speech remains mostly unchanged.<br />
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I want to apologize to the people in my district, and in my colleagues' districts. I want to apologize to those protesting in the streets and to those too poor to join them. I want to apologize to those living comfortably and those living lavishly.<br />
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I brought these pages with me today because these stories are the ones we are charged to and have failed to prevent. All of us have taken an oath to will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and to bear true faith and allegiance to the same. We all swore that we made this promise obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion. In its turn, the Constitution we are bound to defend calls upon us to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.<br />
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We have not well and faithfully discharged the duties of the offices we entered.<br />
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Rather than promoting the general welfare, we have taken our proud citizens, upon whose backs America rose to greatness, and turned them into the wretched refuse of a teeming shore. The lamp beside our golden door has gone out; we have turned our backs on those who need our help the most. We have abandoned our own.<br />
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Some people might point out that members of this delegation have fought the good fight. Those people may be right. But if those people say we have done all we can, they are wrong. They are wrong because we didn't call the Republican party on its lies, they are wrong because we refused to fight their fire with fire of our own, they are wrong because we didn't bring the full force of our will on our colleagues to bend them to it even if it meant we would break along with them. There are reasons for this - it's poor form to call your colleagues liars, we wanted to maintain a high moral standard instead of stepping down into the murk of the trenches, we wanted to avoid the lockstep marching orders the GOP has made their trademark - but we didn't die on the battlefield for our American brothers and sisters, and now, they are paying the price...they, not we. We here in Congress are lucky enough to live privileged lives here in our ivory tower, but now those we neglected are screaming from outside our windows for the same safety and security we enjoy. It is true that the moral high ground matters, but the nonviolent occupations of New York and countless other cities prove that it is possible to speak loudly and powerfully without ceding it, and we should have adopted this approach sooner, stronger, and for as long as we remained in office. <br />
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It is past time for us to tend to our fellow Americans. I believe in a nation that cares for its peoples' lives and health. I believe that together we are stronger, and I believe that because our entire history has been the story of strength through unity. When we stand together, we achieve greatness beyond the world's wildest dreams; when we separate, we sink into cowardice and wretchedness. The Republican party doesn't even pretend to want to provide for the common welfare; their entire corpus amounts to little more than "make it on your own, or die trying." This is no doctrine for the United States of America. We are not that callous and we are not that foolish. Ours is <i>not</i> a story founded in selfishness. Many people will respond that they found success on their own, that they didn't need a hand from their neighbors or community. That kind of empowerment is precisely what our government should produce; people should understand the communal infrastructure and resources provided by generations of Americans as their own, as pathways to success that are as natural as the air we breathe. All Americans should wake up every morning and know that they will be met by opportunity and the chance to work hard and succeed. This is not the case now. These stories are those of people who did all "the right things," who work hard and follow the rules, but have been crushed under the immoral behavior of others who we have simply allowed to become more powerful than they deserve. <br />
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The unique strength of government is its ability to do things for <i>all</i> citizens. Government opens the doors for all its people, admitting them to a society where all can succeed. A good government helps all citizens gain an education that allows them to participate in the public sphere, a business world in which all can succeed regardless of size or power, and a society that understands all people as equally worthy of respect and honor. Throughout our history, we have crawled, then walked, towards these goals, and it is time, [Mr. Speaker], to run. This is the path to economic and social recovery - we have to create an America that lets us bear each other up. I expect many questions about the cost of such a path, and I will not lie to you and say that rebuilding America will be free of charge. Instead, I will point out that we have dramatically increased our debt through tax cuts for those who need them least and who promptly failed to reinvest them in the nation that granted them the incentive in the first place. We have increased our debts through two ten-year wars. These ideas have failed. They are not good for America and they are not good for Americans. It is time to invest in <i>all</i> Americans, not a select few.<br />
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I am introducing a bill, cosponsored by my colleagues. This bill calls for dramatic reform in the financial sector, and would outlaw most of the practices that allowed this sector to cause catastrophic damage to the US economy. I will also introduce another bill, which will take the first steps towards reformation of our campaign finance laws and electoral processes. These two bills are only the beginning of a massive project that stands before us, but I hope that my colleagues will join me in urgent and civil discourse in an effort to restore America to stability and prosperity. Because this project is so massive, I am also submitting a rule change, temporarily converting control of extraneous Congressional functions like the naming of federal buildings and operational details to either the states or to the Executive branch department under whose purview the concerns fall, leaving us more time for the business of creating jobs and repairing our economy. <br />
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I also encourage my constituents and all Americans to voice their opinion of the bill. The compassionate community on Wall Street and in other cities has inspired me to do what I can to invite you all to occupy my offices, both here in Washington and in the district. Coffee, tea, water and snacks will be freely available for all takers, and my staff will be prepared to discuss the mechanics of legislation with you and to record your opinions. My website will also be available for this purpose, and you will find full texts of both [suggested bills] there now, along with synopses and a form to submit comments and questions. We have also provided easy ways to contact your own representative, and I encourage you to do so.<br />
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Together, we can repair the great system under which we live. We can make a better America and a better world, and we can rescue all of our fellow Americans - our brothers and sisters - from that teeming shore.<br />
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We can rescue each other, and lift high the great American torch once again.Josiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15303996123411070924noreply@blogger.com1