Monday, December 28, 2009

Why are so many Black woman single?

So I'm going to post this to start the conversation. Watch it, think it over and don't cry...

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

....just thinking....

Today, I ran across this poem I sat aside almost a year ago, it was like finding a twenty in my jeans pocket:

Show me the suffering of the most miserable;
So I will know my people's plight.
Free me to pray for others;
For you are present in every person.
Help me take responsibility for my own life;
So that I can be free at last.
Grant me courage to serve others;
For in service there is true life.
Give me honesty and patience;
So that the Spirit will be alive among us.
Let the Spirit flourish and grow;
So that we will never tire of the struggle.
Let us remember those who have died for justice;
For they have given us life.
Help us love even those who hate us;
So we can change the world.
prayer of the farm workers' struggle - césar e. chávez
I am aware that reading poetry is boring. Full disclosure? Sorry Tasha (and you knew this), I think reading poetry is boring for the most part, unless it is Pablo Neruda....oh the onion poem is divine!! But this one touched me. I read every single line wishing that the people who governed for us, supervised over us, loved and befriended us would take it into their hearts and make real those thoughts and feelings that express the inherent divinity that is concerned first with those around us and then the self. I suppose what I mean by all of this is that, honestly, I hate my boss. Incompetent, spiteful, bitter, discriminating old woman.

Monday, December 21, 2009

NYC, you're so pale.

Today was full of moments when you thought you were putting your boots on firm well trodden concrete; only to find your foot submerged in five inches of ink black icy water.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Free Wifi...fighting for it...

Well, my life is always a metaphor.
What that means is I rarely have to look outside of my own life experiences to get a very clear message of what God is saying to me - yes, God - capital G-o-d.
Yes, yes on most days it's some kinda universal theory I'm comfortable with but you and I both know when the chips are down and your life is in danger, it's that omnipresent power you go looking for to save you....
a quick reversion to God the Father?
Well, my lesson is that blessings will come but you will have to fight for them...
I just couldn't get out of Europe without a on dear reader,
So yesterday, homegirl and I, in a moment of proactive clarity called around and checked prices....we settled on Super shuttle....another cab decided to show anyway....
this guy decided to hold my luggae hostage until we paid him twenty euros...
no worries Brooklyn pried his hands off and jumped in the cab... aiee my wifi time is up....
stay tuned....
pray for safe travels...

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Happy Birthday to me....

I have been 31 for 1:41 minutes.

I turned 31 a few days ago though. By that I mean, I have spent the last few months confronting my past, my fears and fears of my past and thus my future. I explained early morning a few days ago that the importance of a hajj or travel isn't the destination - my most favorite thing in the world..arriving, that is, to a warm home, or dinner, or anywhere where I can take my shoes off and eat something sweet -- the important thing is to remove your self and spirit from the weight of the everyday. To get your mind focused on the singular purpose of survival, finding the train, speaking French, seeing if they have that dress in your size. Rinse off your feet, anoint your self with oil and see what you should be doing with your god-given talents.

Opps. Did I get too serious?

I have been in Paris letting my shoulders feel the absent weight of stress. To feel relief from worry, and the low self-esteem, and the bank account limit, and the non-inspiring job, and the lack of a love life. I've been in Paris looking around and being inspired and loved and inspired and pushed and stepped on and hugged (not kissed :() and spoiled and cared for and stared at and ignored and fed and cajoled and dam my feet hurt!

But since I didn't have on my everyday, 'woe is me' sunglasses (free with the daily self-degradation pills) I ended up seeing me.


And let me tell you - I'm a lot thinner than I thought - (and my boobs are perkier too - look out nysc, the towel is coming off!!!) it might be because now my shoulders aren't slouched anymore or stuck right underneath my ears in an attempt to remained balanced as my head and heart are alternately filled to capacity with anger and apathy.


It's nice. I'm going to look so fly.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Solo Adventures....

I went out alone today...
Didn't find what I was looking for
but didn't get lost, you see?

Saturday, December 12, 2009

the uncanny adventures...

Today I swear to you that if I told you everything that happened you would not believe me. Let's just say my friend and I were kidnapped, taken to the suburbs of Paris (under the guise of her performing - which she did and it was wonderful) where we were forced by this weird cult of older white French people (who were very kind) to watch a dvd of an Indian guy do a speech on finding your inner peace...

That wasn't even the kicker, although it should have been, then they brought out the guitars and sang songs for about an hour...then one of them decided that it would be funny to perform their song with a fake rasta cap on....there are no words.....

Random Musings...

Paris is an odd city. There are these moments of force intimacies because the everything is so tiny - the subway, the elevators, the apartments - and yet the people don't like to talk to one another. I'm not making this up - oh, also French people love to explain themselves. So I learned last night that french people have very closed societies, so many people only hang out with people they already know and rarely add new people. So if you're a foreigner it is very hard to become integrated - a lonely city as I New York so different though?

Last night I had my first taste of a night out in was wonderful. I had drinks across the street from the Louve - seriously...the mona lisa was across the street and downstairs??? Apparently the louve is under ground...we started in Saint - Paul where I learned how to take the metro....I was trying to get that french je ne se quio thing with the dressing. There is a rule written somewhere that everything is centered (if I hear chic one more time...) around BLACK....everywhere, black, scarfs, and knee boots....its a uniform.

Here are my new friends.

And trying to get home after a night out is trecherous!!! The metro closes down and then you can't get a frinkin cab. Everyone was outside just cussing in french. We finally started walking and I heard someone cussing in english -- so I ran over and was like you speak english??? Americans of course..."How do you get a frikin cab??" She had no idea and couldn't even get her hotel to call her one...dam - its going to be a long, cold, cobble stone impeded walk home.

Needless to say, we finally got one twenty minutes later and it was worth the wait. Our cab driver gave us a lecture on why french women were so horrible and I quote, "Why must they be in control? they have everything but, you know, the man parts!! Are they like that in New York?" he asked. I had to inform him, sadly, that they were far worse...sorry..its true. Then he gave us a lecture on how the mayor of paris was gay (we were driving pass his palace - it was that big) and then, pointing to a gay couple making out, he remarks, "You see that? Never! If god said you want to be God of the country, with much money, and many women? You also be gay I say no, no way. But its here (pointing to his forearm) its in your blood you know -- you can't just decide to be gay, you're born that way."

I ask you. You tell me. Is there any better way to end the night than with a genetic lesson by a french cabbie? Of course not and so on that note... this american in paris dragged her bottom inside.

Friday, December 11, 2009

1st day...

Jet lag is real.
French people are rude.
There is a store across the street where the chocolate is sitting on plates made out of chocolate.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

How to get your seatmates into 1st class - A guide.

We will skip the long drawn out colorful descriptions of my elderly, beautiful Mexican (who had to use the double cane thing) seat mate and the 16 or 17 year old boy who was miserably stuck between us instead of sitting in the back with his family (read: his brothers and sisters who were the same age as him and, frankly, willing to carry on a conversation instead of grunting before they slid on their eye masks, ear plugs and other sundries to block out all signs of life...)

Yes, let's just jump into this. Right in the middle, shall we? Let start at the moment that I looked down on the beautiful brand new gray cowl necked sweater and noted that of all things I never expected to see was a huge red blob of throw-up on it as my first ha-looo bonjour to France.....

Yes, your's truly got sick on the plane after convincing herself that it was okay to have the beef -- I mean this is a European country right? -- and on top of that throw on the free, yes free, red wine. I drifted off after a gut deep laugh fest that is the act of watching "The Hangover" which I need to see again in the right frame of mind....I woke up to a very familiar, yet dreaded sensation....there was a cold sweat on my forehead and gentle waves of revulsion working their way from some ephemeral point in my stomach that I'm sure had some of that beef in charmoise sauce somewhere near it. So I woke up and began taking deep breathes hoping it would go away...I don't think there was anywhere 'convienent' to land in the middle of the ocean...And let me say this if their healthcare is anything close to the crazy efficiency with which they took care of the situation -- I'm moving. So the boy realized I wasn't making to the bathroom faster than I did, and before I knew it I was laying across 2300 bucks worth of seats with my head on the floor with the "I need to leave church early finger up" trying to get them to stop asking me questions for just a second.

I'm fine. I certainly got my full dollar out of those attendants, one was fanning me, another bringing me water....its almost funny -- no, the truth is that it is not funny at all. Seriously. Finally the really pretty goes...why don't you just go take care of this in the bathroom -- and thats my first cognizant memory of Gay Parie -- gray sweater, red blobs, and my finger down my throat.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

And so it begins....

Yay to windows seats!! If only you could see how full this plane is and the (clears throat) melange of ... well, smells that are brought out by minimal air conditioning, a thin steel tube that is the plane and the nuclear strength stench that is encased underneath the home erectus' arm pit! Ugh! I should have splurged on the 16$ wine... and great I have no idea what the pilot is saying right now...

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Abortion Rights

If you haven't done anything as brave and proactive as writing a letter to your senator, like my friend Nancy, about your anger at the the conservative movements' attempt to limit womens' ability to control their own bodies -- then take your busy behind and click on the link and help add your voice to the masses over at Plan Parenthood! Then copy the link, email it to everyone you know and tell them to do it and then tell them to tell their friends as well.

We will not loose our freedom to say when, where and what happens to our bodies -- not on our watch!!!Dam it.

Monday, December 7, 2009

a quizzical question....

what if women (all sexualities) used their political power the way that the gay community uses theirs?

you're procrastination anyway -- click on the link, go ahead, click it....

i know right?

Friday, December 4, 2009


you know how google puts up ads in any tiny corner they can find to bring in more revenue to continue to secure their bohemoth identity? Well they looked over my blog entries and decided that I needed to see this one:

Black Women White Men
Specialists in Black White Dating Lifetime Profile, Free Chat Rooms

uh. AFRO??? really?? afro...right. uhm. I, uhm, I guess plopping that on my screen is funny... I thought I was free of the "so who are you dating now? (aka dan sure would love some kids) and how come you and aiesha aren't with anyone conversation and you know I do weddings...." until next thanksgiving. Now my computer is judging me!!! seriously??!!!!

Hilarious I tell you. Hilarious.

Anyway, a bit of fun for the weekend....naked mole rats -- I'm down.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Chris' Good Hair: Removing of black womens skirts...

I finally got to see Good Hair.

I have been waiting, not anxiously, but with trepidation for its (early) release this week in NYC. I enjoyed watching the massive press junket, The View, his friend 'the Oprah' etc. He was funny and didn't awkwardly avoid the race conversation inherent in the subject. There was a great moment when he had to settle a pseudo-argument between Whoopi and Barbara about whether black women relax their hair because they are trying to be European or not...he cleverly agreed with both - and the voices in his film do the same.

So the film...

There were these odd meta-moments in my head when I wanted to view the film from the eyes and minds of the various (numerous) white and Asian folks (unattended by their blacks no less!) that were in attendance. But the film was such an internal letter to black women that I couldn’t keep that lens on as I normally do -- my de-facto feminist defender warrior who is always prepared, always ready and always wary of these topics was enjoying the film. Smile.

There were so many moments when I heard the black women at the back of theatre, at the front, and next to me laugh in unison and recognition (embarrassment?) at the common lived experiences {the weave tumbleweed scurrying down 125th street). We shook our collective heads at learning the affects of Sodium Glycolate on our little girl's hair, our scalps and hair follicles and especially at the transparent soda can accompanied by the white scientist's taken back that there was a group of people who actual applied this toxin to their scalps.

There was a super uncomfortable moment when Chris postulated (a pseudo joke) that the reason we, blacks, lack intimacy in our relationships is because our men can't touch our hair... (wait wait there is more)

The barbershop men then talked about how that leads, some of them, to prefer white women, who are more free and willing to do more things...

I know (eyebrow raised, head cocked, heart hurt). To be fair, there was a young man at the back of the group of old, unattractive and overweight men who disagreed with them quite energetically. I haven’t digested that particular issue as of yet. You guys know I’m a forest, not the trees, person.

As I sat on the local A train, headed home after saying bye to my home girl, I finally could digest this odd moment from the live Friday Oprah show. There was a youngish woman in a pretty blue suit that stood up and said that she was angry at Chris for telling our secrets. Chris told her that he was not R. Kelly and had never been known to disrespect anyone. Then he stated a common Oprahism – secrets will rot your soul. That this, the money we spent, the attention we pay, the fakery for beauty, the negative affect on the self-esteem of his daughter, needs to be brought to the forefront so……well, upon reflection I realized, he didn’t say what we should do now that it was out there – and in that lack of a completed purpose/thought lies the rub.

The point:

Chris was wrong for making this movie. There is rule in the Gay community, of which I have been an ally to even before I knew any Gay people because of this very issue*; the rule is that you do not out a member – ever. Revelation is a personal choice that does have serious consequences. This means that even though the movie was chock full of black women telling secrets about hair – they were sharing ALL of our secrets not just their own and thus should not have made the decision to OUT all of us – especially from their positions of power and economic freedom**.

Let’s make this more personal. I live with white people now and I am super self-conscious about revealing my hair shit. When I wash my hair I still make extra sure not to leave my nappy curling balls of hair for anyone to see. I tried to take my braids out in peace and had to force my self to stay put when my white male roommate came home early – but inside I was mortified. The last thing I ever wanted was to allow the eyes of the world to glaze on the half braided scalps of black women trying to fit in to keep their jobs, be more attractive to men who prioritize the long and silky or trying to cover their bald and alopecia affected scalps.

Why does the world continue to stare under our skirts? Why must we always be the "Venus Hottentot" (for info see end of para) glazed at by the 'other' in a museum? Chris, innocently I think, pulled away our skirts and ‘outted’ us without our permission and for what purpose?

Yes Chris, secrets should be brought to the forefront but this wasn’t your secret to tell. It was ours and you have done badly. Bad Chris.

* interesting quotes…
K. Steffans – I don’t know how the average woman pays for these
Salt – I spend 200,000 a year
Rock – You have a weave layaway plan!!!

I’m an ally because people who are consenting adults can do what they like, it is a PERSONAL activity that hurts no one and is none of governments business. Also because we have separation of church and state and my Christianity should not run your life – that’s just frickin logical you know???

Friday, August 14, 2009

That extra something...

Y'all remember me saying that we should not be surprised if Obama does not win? I recall saying that the combination of the soft hidden racists in the majority (my friends ack*?) and the hard concentrated racists would prevent it? Well I was wrong --

I learned that my friends aren't as racist as I thought they were...but those hardcore bastards are not playing around are they?Obviously the fervor surrounding the Presidents agenda and his health care bill in particular can not be simplified to just race -- obviously class/big business and is right up there at the top but the nastiness and (mild) violence (i.e the town hall meetings etc) of late really have me believing that the wild west denial in the face of all logical fact (death meetings....really? euthanasia....really?)has got to be that extra seasoning of black in the white house...

Paul does it better...with citation and shit...

Monday, July 13, 2009

The Sotomayor Hearings...real quick..

God I wish were home to watch this myself, but I'm stuck partially working and reading the live blogging with -- at least I have that...

I restate this with hilarity because you'll see the irony right away...

From the laughable Sen. Sessions:

“Like the American people I have watched this process for a number of years,” he said, “and I fear this empathy standards is another step down the road to a liberal activist, results-oriented and relativistic world where – laws lose their fixed meaning, unelected judges set policy; Americans are seen as members of separate groups rather than simply Americans, and where the constitutional limits on government power are ignored when politicians want to buy out private companies. …."

While that quote is full of jaw dropping irony -- I, simplistically (sorry it's Monday morning), think its laugh out loud funny that he thinks we think that he considers us all Americans and not part of the group.

Really? We are all just god fearing neighborhood loving friendly Americans to you Mr. Sessions?!?

I'm not buying it.

It burns my tithers when folks claim "we're all Americans" in the effort to keep a member of a minority group from power......really it burns them to dust...

[Oh oh before I forget -- don't know whats going on? Sharkfoo has this really cool explanation of the players...]

Monday, June 8, 2009


I awoke to my radio alarm this morning. I stretched my hands up over my head and pointed my toes -- happy to awaken another day...well...

Actually, I opened one eye grudgingly, and with misplaced anger at an inanimate object, glared at my clock radio. I tried to pretend that I could go back to sleep with the music blaring and turned my, now closed, eye away from the morning sun. It was then that I realized that it was not the normal "sophisticated and uppity concerned for the world on my way to work through Columbus circle" NPR morning radio that I was used to but the brand new Drake colabo...

Who changed the station on my radio?!?

I was kinda grooving because my brain was still thinking this might be one of the times that NPR reaches out to the rest of the world and interviews a hiphop does happen...occasionally. But then the song was over and the morning personality's gruff voice began to reminisce about the Hot 97 summer jam concert that was the 'ish last night. He brought Jadakiss on to introduce the interview that they had recorded the previous night by singing the verse to his new jam. I can't remember it all but this line stuck with me...never believe a chick over a dude. Possibly innocuous...uhm innocuous in no sense of the word. Ugh. I am so weary. Can the lack of further explanation convey how tired I am of the sexism??

Had it not been blank thirty in the morning my defenses would have been up and I would have shook my head and ignored it but alas - I was raw, me with no filter, defense, protection and I was pissed. The sexism was so present and quietly violent and more at home than even I was. It seems to me that in the hiphop world I am a 'frickin' visitor and sexism is at home. I was the only one walking around angry, everyone else is cool with it. Dismissing it. Ignoring it. Comfortable with it. It's my angry ass that everyone is looking at wondering what the hell is wrong with me. It's me who should be at home and safe not the whose neck is jerking in anticipation for the next assault on my femininity -- sexism is fine and finds little, if any, threats to itself -- I'm sure it sleeps much more soundly than I do, confident in it's continued existence. I however, suspect that should I get too loud, too convincing, too masculine? I will be asked to leave.

Sigh. So now a woman's, I'm sorry "chick's", word is always to be suspect when it differs from the man's. Sigh. Really people? We really don't see the parallels here? That doesn't sound like it was snatched straight from the racism tome of precepts? No? Or is it just that black masculinity in some quarters is staunchly wedded to sexism? Well, you know how I feel today and thus I am weary and tired and sometimes I just wanna go home and be safe and know that I am welcomed and loved and, most of all, trusted.

I think I better remember to change the station on my radio before I go to sleep. I can't keep waking up angry every morning -- I might hurt someone.

Oh and boy am I pissed that black police officers in NYC are going to have to get specially made guns so that they won't be accidentally shot -- to death -- by their fellow police officers...

WHAT???!!! THE ???!!!??? FUCK?????!!!!! (excuse my language -- it was called for)

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Segregation 2009...that's right, 2009.

Hey folks,

Don't let your privilege let you forget that this is still the status quo....and not just down south.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Post Recession Commercial Hiphop

So has anyone else considered that the very pointed, very damming, very...elitist critiques that folks (yeah yeah me too) have been leveling at hip hop artist for being overly capitalistic, self-aggrandizing, greedy, putting acquiring of assets before community, not being concerned role models focused on education, hard work, etc but hustling pimpin' and the like to increase wealth to the detriment of the community were simply reflections,

a microcosm even,

of a larger communal (read: american) value.

One that was revealed to be on such a large scale that its greed has brought the world to a standstill?!? Well now we know why the largest percentage of hip hop purchasers are white suburban folks - see we thought they were trying to be "hip" but what was really going on was this: the values within the music spoke to something that they felt quite at home with... So one group gets maligned for doing (or rather faking) in public what others are doing in private. I smell a bait and switch, fog machine and spin machine somewhere in here...

Now we know who fifty and puffy were hanging out with in all those club scenes...

Here's my favorite quote if you are in a rush:
As for how he and his fellow Wall Streeters could still afford such afternoons,
he said: “We all made so much money in the past five years, it doesn’t matter.”

Angry yet?

Monday, April 13, 2009


Black women and feminism...

I have to say this quickly.
I'm at work and for some reason they don't care about theory here.

Being a feminist doesn't mean that I can't expect my male partner to protect me, provide for me, etc.

Everybody knows my 'formerly' personal philosophy ...

Don't bring your feminism into the bedroom.

There are lots of things 'feminists' would not do that you might like. (smile)

(Wouldn't that suck?!)

Seriously, there are places we haven't teased and searched yet in order to describe the place that feminists/womanist theory and politics have in our bedrooms, living rooms, and such. There is a crazy amount of hidden "femiguilt" (same as white liberal guilt but with woman - don't cha' just love interchangeable labels?!) that we need to let go and live our lives!

It's okay to perm your hair and cook dinner for your man!

There. I. said. it.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


languish -  

–verb (used without object)
1. to be or become weak or feeble; droop; fade.
2. to lose vigor and vitality.
3. to undergo neglect or experience prolonged inactivity; suffer hardship and distress: to languish in prison for ten years.
4. to be subjected to delay or disregard; be ignored: a petition that languished on the warden's desk for a year.
5. to pine with desire or longing.
6. to assume an expression of tender, sentimental melancholy.
7. the act or state of languishing.
8. a tender, melancholy look or expression.
Origin: 1250–1300;

Monday, March 30, 2009

I'm a slacker 2

I only said 2 because Adiva beat me to the punch in revealing her 'slackness' in posting. However, I think something else is going on since I happen to have a couple of already written posts (its a long subway ride to work) that I just haven't 'posted'...what, what could it be...a sudden desire to not post?

At this moment I would guess that I have reached a critical mass of having shown too many people my blog and have gotten blogshy. Its kinda like when you know that someone is watching you take your test and then that thought prevents you from doing anything else - - including taking the test.

What if my ideas don't make sense? What if I'm wrong...? as though those things don't happen anyway - - forgive my ego, its omniscient, has its own zip code, and always get underfoot. It is under pressure, my ego, with the thoughts of attending Graduate school, which is the most significant decision I have made in the last year. At least I know why I 'stalled' - clarity is beauty, yes? I will keep you posted buuuuuut I wanted to share this article... sooo now the banks can't take the houses back because they have been split into so many pieces that they can't come back to take the houses they sold? Isn't this crazy?!?! So you keep your house because it's not even worth enough for the bank to foreclose on it - - but you can't have it back until it's destroyed by vandals...What is this world we are living in?? We need Jesus!

BTW - heroes was excellent 2night.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Voting Matters...

I awoke this morning...
yes, almost recovered...
opened my NYT (that liberal rag)...
and saw that the dems have repealed the Rockefeller Drug laws...
and I wonder if the universe just knows to convince you to hang on just a little bit longer...

just knows what to give you to get you to pop that faith pill and get back to work.


Tuesday, March 3, 2009

recovery...a dream deferred


I'm at home, not quite sick, but aware that there are tiny microscopic organisms staging an all out war on my cells...I always win though, this year more than others. My awesome doc tells me that the measure of your health is your ability to get over a cold...when you stop "recovering" then we have a problem....

*clear throat

Well now, recovery....
May I make a stretch of a connection, can you bear with me?

I am not recovering.

Last week I had cornel west standing next to me with his arms around my shoulders telling me to hold on and keep planting seeds - thats the work we do. Not changing people, but planting seeds...

Intellectually I get it, I know you know that, I've said it before...

But I end up trying to convince people to have compassion, to not call her a whore, to care about the poor... I don't mean some abstract 'what would jesus do' moment... but don't shut down Ms. X case for no reason (she won't receive her food stamps).... Don't kick Mr. X out of the program because you think he is dangerous (he will violate his parole)... Dont lie to Ms. Y, there are other things she can do besides maintenance work...

Oh and then to watch C-span and see Mr. Limbaugh say, upon reflection no less, that he hopes the president fails... We knew this was coming, that their very ideology demands that Obama fail in his efforts of equality...should he even remotely succeed it would mean the utter destruction of his base...

You know what? 52% of the voting public voted for Obama, I take that to mean that about 52% of people are standing up for right, are sane, don't believe that our president is a Marxist, a socialist, and isn't a citizen...

But that means that 48% of people are not standing up for right. They look at the choices and choose to follow Rush Limbaugh?!? That is a whole lot of seeds to plant...

and at this point I'm tired of trying to convince people to embrace compassion on a micro and a macro level. Do you know what it feels like to discover how many of those seeds need to be planted in your backyard...your I preferr to sit here in the dark on the couch watching Family court...well, right now its Ellen - watching her show is like being in the movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory without all the didactic violence against the children...

Maybe I will recover tomorrow - uhm will someone check on me?!

Monday, February 23, 2009

Banks are evil...

In the not so distant past I have spent more money than I had available to me. Not on frivolous things - but things I needed - mostly. I was a young naive girl who hastily went to an expensive school, in an expensive city, in an expensive neighborhood and building where they only sold the absolute best in (ahh the markets of the UWS....), stationary, clothing - you name it, I can assure you it was the best...and the most expensive.

But, walking up to the JP Morgan chase with my tiny tiny work study check - which would allow me to hold my head up high as I walked my sale laden happily broke student butt back to my expensive apartment, in the expensive neighborhood, at the expensive school - I would find out that
"Hmmm you cannot cash your check because you owe us money AND you can not cash that check here until Thursday if you are not going to put it into your bank account", said the mean teller lady.
She continued, "If you put it into your bank account we will take it because you owe us money. "

I am very aware that that was a long heavy sentence and that is how my life felt in that moment - long and heavy.

There was such a feeling of disdain coming from behind that thick Plexiglas. A damming judgement of having mismanaged my money. And more precisely to JP Morgan Chase, the larger crime of having so very little to mismanaged in the first place. There was a time when I had unknowingly overdrawn my account and they charged me 30$ for each subsequent swipe of my card...10$ at Duane Reade (30$), 5$ bucks at Starbucks(30$).....all 4 of them....

And so when I went to put my tiny check in the back I was forced to first have 120$ in fees given to the bank in repayment.....

Having been held so roughly, so quickly, so finally accountable for my innocent actions I am steaming quietly but consistently at the idea that these banks would knowingly and by design do the same thing with little or no consequence for their actions. To read that they woo and market tax shelters with the sole purpose of keeping rich people, with more than they deserve, from paying their fair share to the government, to us, to me is a crime of such immense portions, an injustice that is unimaginable for the evil of its consequences.

AND wait...THEN take government money...your money...ugh...there are no words...

'Peggy' from Mad Men Season 1 ep 8 said it best:

"I don't understand I try to do my job, I follow the rules... and other people, people who are not good, get to walk around doing what they want, its not fair"

I understand Peggy...but what the hell to do about it?

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Happy Birthday Darwin!

As you already know, I am religious (uhm, most days) and trained as a scientist, had I been able to put all that literature down and really care about the vestigial components of the bird wing I'd had have my nerdy eye pressed to a microscope right now.

I am contemplating if Darwin's theory could affect how we interact with the Bible. It's almost like when the Bible was first released, like what.... 2500 years ago or so, we came to it as a 9 year old. Our adolescence, then, would be when Darwin released the Orgin of the Species in 1859. Or something like that, work with me here. We were rebellious teens, pimply faced, sneaking out late at night with a flashlight to see what was so scandalous about this book (the Orgin not the bible - although there are some stories in there the likes of which you find only Jerry Springer). But now we are adults, and as adults, our access to the a ridiculous amount of information and history and facts requires that we move to a sophisticated reading of the Book and the world and our place in it.

What would a sophisticated reading of the Bible look like?

I never have ever tired of the classic 'What would Jesus do' as a moral guide, but - alas - it has been shown (uhm, by me) to be too easily co-oped by the ego. It doesn't have the construct to really inform you, against your own desire, of a more caring way to handle that moment of questioning.

So a sophisticated reading of the Bible, means that it is possible that everything that is written in that book - and its hundreds of translations - may not have taken place (Bill Maher loves to hark on the talking snake ad nauseum right?). It means that all the values espoused may not be right....okay, the xstain pc phrase would be - the values espoused may not translate for our cultural moment. Whatever. If we could be honest with ourselves and admit that!! Admit that Lot giving his daughters up to be gang raped by the mob to their deaths to protect the mysterious house guests (later revealed as angels) is not a morally perfect story. It simply is not a morally instructive story, it requires that we say some shit was wrong there and not feel as thought the entire Bible - the xstian religion - our moral fiber does not meet its destruction at that exact moment.

I could go on, and I will.

It means that it is a ridiculous ideal for a man to have 600 wives. Biblically lots of women are portrayed as smart and are often the saviour of the hard headed men - but for that intelligence to be relegated to manipulation, mental and sexual (uhm, Ruth), in order for them to have access to power and stability because of oppresive patriarchal (and wrong) notions of what women are, or rather should be, is a crime! On a day to day level espousing this man over woman ideal is a dangerous and incompatible to our ideals of equality. At its most dangerous it leads to emotional and physical violence against women; at the very least it leads to women not being taught the hard sciences as rigorously as men and a lack of women's presence at the higher levels of fortune 500 companies. Clearly this isn't a referendum on women's intelligence but on the idea of where we believe women should be...

So lets bottom line this....

Is it possible that a sophisticated reading of the Bible and its moral teaching would require us, as adults, to see where it was correct in its moral dictum's and where, alas, it was wrong?

If we could admit that it..may.. be wrong it would allow us to 1. admit that there are somethings it says and stop trying to pretend it says something else (women are the second sex, it is wrong to be homosexual, the earth is only 7 "god" days old) and 2. have a complex conversation about what jesus would really do and open our communities to the best representation of that vision of equality.

jezuz, it's what he'd do!

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Guess who's back?

Not me.

I have a ridiculous amount of things that I want to rant about but my tiny brain cannot filter them into coherent thoughts - plus i hate my job and don't want to think. Think, you're really hungry and can't get all that thick, oddly yellow, Velveeta cheese on those steaming noodles because you made the hole too small and you're too impatient to cut the hole larger because it would take too much time - delaying the eating part, see?

So slowly.

The republicans are evil. Transparently prioritizing their own agenda over the health of the country. Not that Obama is perfectly handling everything. Ugh, does anyone else want him to shut. up. with the "I made a mistake"? In the jungle you don't rub cooking grease all over your ass and run pass the lions. Can you just see the commercials in 4 years?!

Ominous voice, "Even he says he can't handle the job, he makes mistakes!" Dun dun dun

Anyway, I'm hungry.

Oh oh oh - Repubs determined to keep him from being successful because he is a Democrat...or a, ah African-American? ponder....

Ugh - - the simple genius of it all...

Saturday, January 10, 2009


Folks:I'm still on my holiday/my computer is broken (yes I am going crazy) hiatus but my good friend was kind enough to post this for me. Nuff said? Validation is wonderful.... hope to innundate you soon! Kebs.
Prayers for the middle east civilians and the people in zimbabwe.