Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Some Stuff Should Stay Buried

Something I just remembered: when I was young there were certain things I was convinced I was going to do every single day when I finally achieved adulthood. Item the first: buy candy. Man! In my head, I was going to be buying so much fucking candy! I didn't understand why adults weren't constantly rolling into stores . They had all that money! Item the second: I was going to dress myself. And when I say "dress myself," I mean "attire myself in the traditional ethnic costumes of the world," because I used to love the parade of nations they had during the Miss Universe pageants. I had a whole plan for my Grown Up working Lady's Wardrobe. Like, Monday I would dress up like Miss Ecuador, and Tuesday would be Miss Kenya; Wednesday is Miss Russian Steppes day or something...I don't know. I didn't actually plan it out in that much detail. I just thought that the minute I hit eighteen and left the cruel tyrannical fiefdom of my playa-hating parents, I was going to be eating so much candy and wearing so many folk costumes.

Those [blessed, merry] few of you who read this and are parents: how do you decide how much self-expression to allow your kids? I mean, you have to see them doing stuff some times and think, Yes, that's my baby. That's who he/she is. And you see their little personality forming their choices and tastes and it's cool, right? Even though the thing they're currently expressing is bullshit? I'm just wondering, because I have been thinking about having children and I wondering what to do if I have a dork, nutball, insane dumbass like I was as a kid.

I don't know what triggered that memory yesterday, but there it is; at one point in my loser adolescence, I was obsessed with clothes. Not particularly notable for a girl-child in the promised land, I agree. But the point is, I a)had no taste and b) came from a working-class family* so I couldn't afford any of the things I actually wanted to wear. I dressed out of KMart and Goodwill, mostly. And I was aware that this marked me, in the same way that my giant Sally Jessy Raphael-glasses marked me, and my overwhelming need to talk about Doctor Who marked me, and a whole host of other unfortunate unmentionables marked me [I'm not talking Wasp Factory stuff here, so don't get excited].

So anyway, I watch these shows like My Super Sweet 16 [actually, I watch the Spanish-language version, Quiero Mi Quinces, because that shit is way better] and I wonder if maybe, if I grew up in a ridiculously wealthy family and had only semi-involved parents...would I have been able to realize my dream of dressing like a one-woman "We Are the World" video but without waiting until I was an adult?!

Sometimes I think about those things.

* we were a military family. We weren't poor, but we certainly didn't have any money. My mom worked two jobs for as long as I can remember

Friday, November 21, 2008

Flying Car Bullshit

Sweet Hesus, why am I just discovering pictures for sad children?

Friday, November 07, 2008

Let The Record Show

Marring my extreme elation at this country finally living up to the content of its creed, has been my horror at the passage of Prop 8 here in California. We'll get in to that later. But first, can we also dismiss the ridiculous notion that black people are to blame for this shit?

EDIT: Adding more, because this meme has exploded across the mainstream media and the blogosphere at large. I'm shocked -- we're all in a post-racial America now, don't you know -- at the ease with which former allies are turning against each other. This is some sick, serious shit.

Why Prop 8 Won -- great breakdown from The Nation
You Might Be a Homophobe? -- blog post from Renee
Gays v African-American Meme Benefits No One -- blogpost from ellephd
More Prop 8 Black and Latino Blaming - Vivir Latino
A Primer From a Brown Straight Girl -- the always wonderful bitchph.d

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Ok?! Ok?!

Reid should have pulled his card way back.

You got to go, Joe. Remember this? Harry Reid needs to bring a little bit of this kind of fire to his talk with Lieberman:

"Furthermore, during a Senate vote Wednesday, Obama dragged Lieberman by the hand to a far corner of the Senate chamber and engaged in what appeared to reporters in the gallery as an intense, three-minute conversation.
While it was unclear what the two were discussing, the body language suggested that Obama was trying to convince Lieberman of something and his stance appeared slightly intimidating.
Using forceful, but not angry, hand gestures, Obama literally backed up Lieberman against the wall, leaned in very close at times, and appeared to be trying to dominate the conversation, as the two talked over each other in a few instances.
Still, Obama and Lieberman seemed to be trying to keep the back-and-forth congenial as they both patted each other on the back during and after the exchange.
Afterwards, Obama smiled and pointed up at reporters peering over the edge of the press gallery for a better glimpse of their interaction.
Obama loyalists were quick to express their frustration with Lieberman's decision and warned that if he continues to take a lead role in attacking Obama it could complicate his professional relationship with the Caucus."

This is My President. This is My First Lady.

Love them.

Justice Delayed

Best voicemail of the night:

Bernie: ...blah blah blah...and I also got to vote against the judge who sentenced me to the girls' home, so that was cool...

People Wept

"And Then They Wept" -- Charles M. Blow

"History will record this as the night the souls of black folk, living and dead, wept – and laughed, screamed and danced – releasing 400 years of pent up emotion.

They were the souls of those whose bodies littered the bottom of the Atlantic, whose families were torn asunder, whose names were erased.

They were those who knew the terror of being set upon by men with clubs, of being trapped in a torched house, of dangling at the end of a rough rope.

They were the souls of those who knew the humiliation of another person’s spit trailing down their faces, of being treated like children well into their twilight years, of being derided and despised for the beauty God gave them.

They were also the tears of those for whom “Yes We Can, ” Obama’s campaign slogan, took on a broader, more profound meaning.

“Yes We Can” escape the prison of lowered expectations and the cycles of poor choices. “Yes We Can” rise above history and beyond hatred. “Yes We Can” ascend to Martin Luther King’s mountain top and see the promised land where dreams are fulfilled, where the best man wins and where justice prevails.

During this election African-Americans, their hearts weary from disappointment, dared to hope and dream again. Tonight their dream has been realized.

Whether or not you agree with Barack Obama’s politics, there is no denying that his election represents a seminal moment in the African-American narrative and a giant leap forward on the road to America’s racial reconciliation.

In fact everyone, regardless of race, should feel free to shed a tear and be proud of how far our country has come."

thanks to Parker, who dropped me the link, even though he couldn't be bothered to answer his phone at 1 in the morning and celebrate with me

Yes, We Did

Tina, Stanley, Lo, Dick, and Jonah: we did it.

Yes, we did.

Reactions Around the World

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Before You Even Fix Your Mouth

Because you'll be hearing about this ad nauseaum if Fox News can force you to, let's just clear some stuff up right now concerning those Black Panthers allegedly intimidating voters in North Philly (because there are so many white voters in that neighborhood, o'course): an account from an actual poll worker.

Whatever. According to some people, an Obama administration is just the beginning of a federal mandatory gay marriage abortion tax payable to your black overlords.

Lazy Live Bloggin'

From my cousin, Delacey, via text:

To my smart friends, I'm sure u already made ur choice of who ur going 2 vote 4...To my easily influenced undecided friends...McCain shot Biggie and Tupac...

Monday, November 03, 2008

I am so nervous. So worried. I have been yelling all day at people to shut up talking about the election because I don't want to jinx this. Seriously! I called a 24 hour moratorium on discussing this shit. If things go wrong, I will know who is to blame. All of you losers who don't believe in the power of bad juju.

In fourteen and a half hours, I'm going to vote for Barack.

Do not fuck this up, America.

EDIT: Sympathies to the Obama family: word is that Barack's grandmother passed today.