Long time, to be sure. I just wanted to check in with the world to let it know that I've not succumbed to Swine Flu, as much as the nytimes.com would love to add "New Hampshire" to it's sensationalistic (but oh-so-clean-looking) "Flu Tracker" interactive graphic. The Times, which used to be one of the more level-headed corporate media outlets has succumbed to the all-consuming virus that has infected the corporate media as it does all businesses: "Greed Flu." (I dare not venture on to see the garbage on msnbc.com, cnn.com or--shudder--foxnews.com.)
People have grown accustomed to graphic photographs and video footage from far-off wars and genocides. Real images of surreal situations and people so different from us as to be almost unreal. Give the people what they want (or at least can't help but peak at) and they'll fill your coffers from now until the cows come home (which, when they do, Murdoch will likely buy them all up, the slaughterhouses, too, and squeeze the life--and a tidy profit--out of apocalyptic beef. If there is a God, may He have a sense of irony and infect those cows with Mad Cow Disease. ) Anyway. The NYT interactive graphic is, comparatively, much cleaner.
Though, I wonder if I could get text updates the nanosecond a new case is discovered. Let's track flu infections and deaths the way we count Olympic medals. Cold. Impersonal. Competitive? Heaven forbid respectfully covering a public health situation rather than gawk with paralyzing fear, mixed with all-too-morbid fascination.
Sure, this flu is spreading quickly, sure Michael Crichton et al have our imagination whipped into a frenzy over killer virus strains, but let's put this into perspective. How many people die from the "normal," human influenza viruses annually? In 2003 the CDC reports that figure was roughly 36,000. How many people die from cancer--daily? The American Cancer Society reports 1,500. We're not lining up in cancer wards, watching people die, or flipping our shit whenever we miss work or school because the flu makes us puke a little. Where is the NYT graphic tracking cancer deaths? The Swine Flu kills fewer than two hundred people in less-than-ideal living conditions and suddenly the sky is falling.
Swine flu: more hype for your money.
22:56: Amendment: The NYT has earned itself a tiny bit of respect, albeit thanks to its bloggers. This "The Lede" piece is extremely well done and far better than my above rant. (Which is why Robert Mackey makes the big bucks and I'm left to shout into the cyber-wilderness at no one at 11 o'clock on a Friday night.)
Friday, May 1, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
WTF Obama: A Quick Rant
C'mon, Obama! I'm not cheering you on. I'm demanding that special something I need to put faith in you.
$775 billion? Not enough.
No justice for Bush administration crimes against humanity and American civil liberties? Really not enough.
This is a moment that will define not only your legacy but the history of the United States of America. You need to choose to either be a lap dog Democrat like Pelosi et al, or stand up now for those who stood up for you in November. Their votes mean nothing if you are an enabler like the rest. You're better than this.
Or at least I hope you are. We need to show the world once more that to be an American means something. Personally, I'd like to show the world the way to lead, not force such a way on it. I'd like to be known once more as the land of liberty, not a police state. There is a difference between being a compromiser and compromising your integrity and values. You talk about "Hope" and "Change" but all I can hope for is that you will really become an agent of change starting January 20. C'mon, Obama. America deserves better.
$775 billion? Not enough.
No justice for Bush administration crimes against humanity and American civil liberties? Really not enough.
This is a moment that will define not only your legacy but the history of the United States of America. You need to choose to either be a lap dog Democrat like Pelosi et al, or stand up now for those who stood up for you in November. Their votes mean nothing if you are an enabler like the rest. You're better than this.
Or at least I hope you are. We need to show the world once more that to be an American means something. Personally, I'd like to show the world the way to lead, not force such a way on it. I'd like to be known once more as the land of liberty, not a police state. There is a difference between being a compromiser and compromising your integrity and values. You talk about "Hope" and "Change" but all I can hope for is that you will really become an agent of change starting January 20. C'mon, Obama. America deserves better.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Wintry visits in Somerville
Hanging out at the Tarcitano pad on a Tuesday evening, I find myself beginning my third night in a small, cozy apartment in Somerville. I'm not sure if the home has more food, books, or DVDs; either way, one is never wanting for nourishment, enlightenment, or entertainment (though at the moment I'm too starved to think or even consider my cinematic options for the evening).
We went to see Simmons today. Though small, I found the campus very welcoming and the facilities looked brand new, with a touch of artful good taste. Each of the graduate schools and even the undergraduate college were decorated with the same themes found on their respective websites and in their respective pamphlets and literature. I also very much enjoyed the ample natural light found within the library, a modern-looking glass building where I can easily see myself studying.
This visit comes, of course, about a week following the submission of my application materials to both Simmons and Columbia. It's simply a waiting game for Columbia, while I must return to Simmons for interviews once my application materials are in order. I still very much prefer Simmons' program to that of Columbia (two masters versus one, Boston historical institutions versus those of New York), but Manhattan schooling could be cool, too. If I only do the archives MS now, I can decide if I truly want to go for the history MA after, or perhaps pursue a career as a professional researcher for movies or TV (a fascinating job idea I only first thought of today). We'll just have to see where Tuany and I both get admitted.
Otherwise, just looking forward to a day of cooking tomorrow with Rose, a winter's vacation on Nantucket, and a new job with kiddies!
Off to eat (hopefully). For now, enjoy these tiggle bitties.
More later...
We went to see Simmons today. Though small, I found the campus very welcoming and the facilities looked brand new, with a touch of artful good taste. Each of the graduate schools and even the undergraduate college were decorated with the same themes found on their respective websites and in their respective pamphlets and literature. I also very much enjoyed the ample natural light found within the library, a modern-looking glass building where I can easily see myself studying.
This visit comes, of course, about a week following the submission of my application materials to both Simmons and Columbia. It's simply a waiting game for Columbia, while I must return to Simmons for interviews once my application materials are in order. I still very much prefer Simmons' program to that of Columbia (two masters versus one, Boston historical institutions versus those of New York), but Manhattan schooling could be cool, too. If I only do the archives MS now, I can decide if I truly want to go for the history MA after, or perhaps pursue a career as a professional researcher for movies or TV (a fascinating job idea I only first thought of today). We'll just have to see where Tuany and I both get admitted.
Otherwise, just looking forward to a day of cooking tomorrow with Rose, a winter's vacation on Nantucket, and a new job with kiddies!
Off to eat (hopefully). For now, enjoy these tiggle bitties.
More later...
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Let it snow!
Wow. We're really getting pounded up here. We're not talking one to two inches, but one to two feet. Way to ring in the winter solstice for sure. I'm insanely jealous of my mom and dogs who are no doubt snowshoeing in this. I have to wait four more days for my chance. "Bitter" isn't exactly the right word, nor is "resentful" but they come close. I'm stuck in Hanover (enjoying the world-class amenities of Grantford Manor, of course), trudging from place to place. First I head to the Coop to see about retrieving my lunch from the day before. So far so good. Then I trudge out to Howe Library. Doesn't open until 1. Fine. I trudge back to Grantford Manor where I'm actually quite productive in working on my Columbia grad application. So far so good. At quarter-to-one I head back over to the library (all of these legs, by the way, would have been immeasurably easier in SNOWSHOES!) only to find that it's in fact closed today, its makeshift sign reading "We're closed today 12/21 sorry!" signed with a goddamn smiley face mockingly gleaming out from its toasty lodging just inside the door at me in the frigid blizzard. Well shit.
So here I find myself, warming up in the Bookstore, pirating Wi-Fi and waiting for the girl to get out of work. Constantly moving place to place, I hope to soon settle down enough to finish my applications for good. I want them in the mail within the week.
More later?
So here I find myself, warming up in the Bookstore, pirating Wi-Fi and waiting for the girl to get out of work. Constantly moving place to place, I hope to soon settle down enough to finish my applications for good. I want them in the mail within the week.
More later?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Quick rant
Rant on. What if the government did buy up the US auto industry and gave a share to each American voter? It would be a bureaucratic nightmare, but you can be damned sure that save for the random "Swift-Boating" or "Mormonating" (think CA Proposition 8), Americans 18+ would be voting for fuel efficiency, voting out the dinosauresque policies of the past 50 years of American automotive leadership. Just imagine... We'd get the cars we want, not what they want us to want. The technology is there, the reasonable decision-making is not. Rant off.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Night Two at Grantford Manor
Let's see...
In local news today, the generator's working. Our neighbor had to hit it with a rubber mallet a few times, but it's working. Our house is slowly warming up again, so I'm told. The generator is only capable of running the heating, water pumps, and a few lights; the only cooking to be had is via microwave. Truly the Stone Age. So I'm told. I wouldn't know. Nope. Tonight is...
Night Two at Grantford Manor.
In many ways, I do feel bad seeking refuge here in Hanover. My parents can cope, but my poor brother looked like a puppy needing rescue from a storm drain after a hurricane. Cold, wimpering, attention-starved. Poor guy. But, fuck that. I'm not freezing out of pity. No, just kidding, I really do feel bad. I'm just glad to be warm with my Tuany.
Anyway, I did go home today for a bit to meet up with my mom before heading off to the Nutcracker. We went to the Claremont Opera House which is far smaller, er, more intimate, than I remembered, but for its size it does seem to attract pretty impressive acts. My parents have seen many rock and folk artists there in the past. I saw Bill Clinton there way back in January before the New Hampshire Primary. My God that was a long time ago. But that's not the point. The point I'm trying to get to is that for all the incredible acts--Stevie Nicks, Capitol Steps, etc.--The Nutcracker, as performed by the New Hampshire Ballet company (or something to that effect) was decidedly un-incredible. I'm not going to go on to write a thorough review of the performance, for they are a ballet school first and foremost and I really do think it's fantastic for these kids to get an opportunity to perform, but my mom is right, "there are just some jobs where you need to be skinny." That is not to say that this was some sort of novelty fat camp show or something, but I think my mom suggested that the Dew Drop Fairy should wear a corset. Women can be so cruel. Tsk tsk.
What was interesting was hearing all the good ol' townsfolk talk about their cousin so-and-so or their good friends from across the state, all who did not have power and might not have it for the foreseeable future. And then there was this bitch behind me who not only bragged about only having lost power for a few hours, but then proceeded to hold a jabbering two-year-old at what felt like mere inches from my right ear for the entirety of the performance. Rather than get annoyed with the child, who had no choice in attending the ballet and I'm sure would rather have been nearly anywhere else at that moment in time, I began to listen. Now, I have always loved how innocent kids are, and how perceptive their most basic questions are. This child, however, was disappointingly unprofound, but I must admit I laughed out loud when he told his mother that "girls shouldn't dress like boys and boys shouldn't dance." Then I began to think about how we as a society construct gender until I realized I was no longer at Vassar and no one in the real world gives a damn about gender construction. (Though, for the record, the Nutcracker is racist as shit. The Egyptians and Chinese portrayals in particular smacked with Eurocentrism, complete ignorance mixed with a certain sense of I-don't-give-three-fucks-about-your-culture. And don't get me started about the sexism inherent in a ballet around a girl's fantasies about a virile soldier who fends off nasty ROUS-type rats and whisks her off to watch the aforementioned Egyptians and Chinese along with a slew of other "exotic peoples.")
I tried not to go off on race and all that, but now that I'm on the topic, you know what really grinds my gears (I hope you all read that in Peter Griffin's voice)? Good people who are still racist as, you guessed it, shit. A coworker the other day, who is among the most selfless people I've ever met (I think, anyway. When I first met her I thought she was just trying to win my friendship by sucking up to me but now it appears she's actually that way. That or she's a serial killer. Whatever.) said, "I know this is going to sound rude or whatever, but oriental people are the rudest people on earth." Once I collected my jaw from the carpet, I called her a racist in the most loving way I knew, and we haven't talked about it since. It's a hard line to walk, remaining conscious of ignorant speech while trying not to come off as holier-than-thou obnoxious, but also not allowing too many people a free ride on spewing pre-hate speech. Apparently that line is increasing fuzzy when those ignorant pricks are buying grossly over-priced Ivy League apparel made in a sweatshop somewhere (Oh shit, there I go again. Damn social sensitivity. I just have to be more careful!) Whatever. I really do hate the Ivy League though. Motherfucking elitist pricks.
So for those of you who just skipped to the bottom hoping for a brief synopsis: No electricity still, nitpicky mothers and hardly morbidly obese ballerinas, gender construction, the racist and sexist art form known as ballet, and general racism. Oh, and racist motherfucking Ivy League elitist pricks.
Finally, back by popular demand, the YouTube Clip of the Day: the "I'm a vegetarian" music video. Creepy fucks.
In local news today, the generator's working. Our neighbor had to hit it with a rubber mallet a few times, but it's working. Our house is slowly warming up again, so I'm told. The generator is only capable of running the heating, water pumps, and a few lights; the only cooking to be had is via microwave. Truly the Stone Age. So I'm told. I wouldn't know. Nope. Tonight is...
Night Two at Grantford Manor.
In many ways, I do feel bad seeking refuge here in Hanover. My parents can cope, but my poor brother looked like a puppy needing rescue from a storm drain after a hurricane. Cold, wimpering, attention-starved. Poor guy. But, fuck that. I'm not freezing out of pity. No, just kidding, I really do feel bad. I'm just glad to be warm with my Tuany.
Anyway, I did go home today for a bit to meet up with my mom before heading off to the Nutcracker. We went to the Claremont Opera House which is far smaller, er, more intimate, than I remembered, but for its size it does seem to attract pretty impressive acts. My parents have seen many rock and folk artists there in the past. I saw Bill Clinton there way back in January before the New Hampshire Primary. My God that was a long time ago. But that's not the point. The point I'm trying to get to is that for all the incredible acts--Stevie Nicks, Capitol Steps, etc.--The Nutcracker, as performed by the New Hampshire Ballet company (or something to that effect) was decidedly un-incredible. I'm not going to go on to write a thorough review of the performance, for they are a ballet school first and foremost and I really do think it's fantastic for these kids to get an opportunity to perform, but my mom is right, "there are just some jobs where you need to be skinny." That is not to say that this was some sort of novelty fat camp show or something, but I think my mom suggested that the Dew Drop Fairy should wear a corset. Women can be so cruel. Tsk tsk.
What was interesting was hearing all the good ol' townsfolk talk about their cousin so-and-so or their good friends from across the state, all who did not have power and might not have it for the foreseeable future. And then there was this bitch behind me who not only bragged about only having lost power for a few hours, but then proceeded to hold a jabbering two-year-old at what felt like mere inches from my right ear for the entirety of the performance. Rather than get annoyed with the child, who had no choice in attending the ballet and I'm sure would rather have been nearly anywhere else at that moment in time, I began to listen. Now, I have always loved how innocent kids are, and how perceptive their most basic questions are. This child, however, was disappointingly unprofound, but I must admit I laughed out loud when he told his mother that "girls shouldn't dress like boys and boys shouldn't dance." Then I began to think about how we as a society construct gender until I realized I was no longer at Vassar and no one in the real world gives a damn about gender construction. (Though, for the record, the Nutcracker is racist as shit. The Egyptians and Chinese portrayals in particular smacked with Eurocentrism, complete ignorance mixed with a certain sense of I-don't-give-three-fucks-about-your-culture. And don't get me started about the sexism inherent in a ballet around a girl's fantasies about a virile soldier who fends off nasty ROUS-type rats and whisks her off to watch the aforementioned Egyptians and Chinese along with a slew of other "exotic peoples.")
I tried not to go off on race and all that, but now that I'm on the topic, you know what really grinds my gears (I hope you all read that in Peter Griffin's voice)? Good people who are still racist as, you guessed it, shit. A coworker the other day, who is among the most selfless people I've ever met (I think, anyway. When I first met her I thought she was just trying to win my friendship by sucking up to me but now it appears she's actually that way. That or she's a serial killer. Whatever.) said, "I know this is going to sound rude or whatever, but oriental people are the rudest people on earth." Once I collected my jaw from the carpet, I called her a racist in the most loving way I knew, and we haven't talked about it since. It's a hard line to walk, remaining conscious of ignorant speech while trying not to come off as holier-than-thou obnoxious, but also not allowing too many people a free ride on spewing pre-hate speech. Apparently that line is increasing fuzzy when those ignorant pricks are buying grossly over-priced Ivy League apparel made in a sweatshop somewhere (Oh shit, there I go again. Damn social sensitivity. I just have to be more careful!) Whatever. I really do hate the Ivy League though. Motherfucking elitist pricks.
So for those of you who just skipped to the bottom hoping for a brief synopsis: No electricity still, nitpicky mothers and hardly morbidly obese ballerinas, gender construction, the racist and sexist art form known as ballet, and general racism. Oh, and racist motherfucking Ivy League elitist pricks.
Finally, back by popular demand, the YouTube Clip of the Day: the "I'm a vegetarian" music video. Creepy fucks.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Night One at Grantford Manor
Night two of the power outage. Since yesterday morning at 6, my house has been without power. Given that it's December, this is Night One at Granford Manor and the mood is jovial. Tuany and I have moved our lives into Grant's vacant house for the time being as we await the return of electricity to our corner of New Hampshire. As temperatures hover around zero, a second night in our unheated home would probably have proved uncomfortable, if not... fatal. Well, uncomfortable anyway. My mother is braving the cold, however, and I look forward to seeing how she fared when I meet her tomorrow to go to the Nutcracker.
Here at Grantford Manor, we're making dinner with perhaps will play some Water Pong later on. Grant seems happy to have people in his house after the last few nights have been both "creaky" and "creepy" with no one else about (his housemates are four undergrad girls, all of whom are now home for Christmas break). We are more than happy to keep him company!
Not much else to report right now. I'm just trying to get into the habit of updating this blog, hopefully generating some sort of readership. If nothing else it's nice to have a venue to rant. My very own mountain top, if you will. In the next few days I may choose to begin to fill in the gaps between my last entry nearly a year ago and today. I may just begin since graduation. I may just jump right in and talk about grad school applications, snowshoeing, the Dartmouth Coop, potentially blowing several hundred dollars on a digital SLR, and cold-ass ice storms. We'll just have to wait and see.
Oh, Chase sent me this, enjoy...
Here at Grantford Manor, we're making dinner with perhaps will play some Water Pong later on. Grant seems happy to have people in his house after the last few nights have been both "creaky" and "creepy" with no one else about (his housemates are four undergrad girls, all of whom are now home for Christmas break). We are more than happy to keep him company!
Not much else to report right now. I'm just trying to get into the habit of updating this blog, hopefully generating some sort of readership. If nothing else it's nice to have a venue to rant. My very own mountain top, if you will. In the next few days I may choose to begin to fill in the gaps between my last entry nearly a year ago and today. I may just begin since graduation. I may just jump right in and talk about grad school applications, snowshoeing, the Dartmouth Coop, potentially blowing several hundred dollars on a digital SLR, and cold-ass ice storms. We'll just have to wait and see.
Oh, Chase sent me this, enjoy...
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