Feline Warrior

Yahoo! News - Mexican Evangelicals Pray for ‘Evil’ Marilyn Manson

This pleases me, it really does. I’m always happy when my people make the news, and especially when it’s for joining together in such a positive manner. My grandmother Rose was from Monterry, Mexico, so the story is even more meaningful to me.

The part about Marilyn Manson… pfft, who cares? {yee-awn} Of course Marilyn M. probably does need the prayers of one hundred evangelical Christian Mexicans, although it would be better, in my opinion, if they were still Catholic, as God intended them to be. Still and all, the one prayer that Marilyn M. really needs includes a delivery of about 25 gallons of makeup remover, a pound of cotton balls, a nice day at the Elizabeth Arden Red Door Salon, and then maybe, just maybe, I would let him hang out with me. Big maybe, though.

Yahoo! News - Bush Insists He’s ‘In Charge’ of Iraq Policy

Yes, yes, the footstomping is implied. And just for kicks, let’s all take a moment to visualize the Iraqi people shouting, in unison, “YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!”

You have to read this article. Not only is it amazing that this guy actually wrote in to correct the “amount of drugs” he was convicted of selling, but also his views about racism.
So… read away!
:::::::::::::::::::::::

This used to be a link, but one would have to pay to read the article (because it’s now archived) so I am including the full text here:

Publication: THE CHARLESTON GAZETTE
Published: 10/10/2003
Page: 4A
Headline: READERS’ FORUM

Amount of drugs sold was incorrect

Editor:

There was an article on me in your paper recently. There is a correction to be made. You said in your paper that Marvin Meniar and I were selling 20 grams of cocaine per month. The exact weight was 20 kilograms per month. No one gets 20 years for selling 20 grams per month. Please. Make the correction. If you’re so into putting these petty things in your newspaper, at least do a good job at it.

One more thing, you should write an article about is how people in West Virginia get away with murder and rape, especially if they’re white. But you catch a Hispanic or black for selling drugs, and we get more time than a murderer and rapist.

I’m from New York City and this definitely doesn’t happen in my city. There is no violence in the sale of narcotics. There is malicious violence in committing rape and murder.

Alex Fernandez
Charleston

Yahoo! News - Bush Has Doubts Leaker Will Be Caught

Will everyone who had an image of Dubya passing gas please raise their hand? MmHmm. As I suspected!

Moving on from the gross to the absurd, why is it that this news item did not surprise me in the least? Hmm? Could it be that I pretty much counted on Dubya to shut those lips tight and hold his breath until we all left him alone about this? This is a pretty serious situation - not only was the CIA agent put in a dangerous spot, but so was (is) everyone associated with her. C’mon, Dubya! It’s not funny! These are people, not Fisher Price toys!

Anyway, here ya go, read about Dubya talkin’ about leaks.

::: this is the essay that I mentioned earlier :::

It seems that stereotyping, with all of its -isms, is alive and thriving despite enormous efforts to change people’s views. I often hear people say things like, “I am not racist, but…” or: “I am not being Anti-Semitic, but…” and then go on to say something racist or Anti-Semitic.

This is particularly troubling to me because I have participated in many events in an effort to change public views and policies. I have rallied against the KKK, protested the nomination of an ultra-conservative to the U.S. Supreme Court, marched for Gay and Lesbian rights, and helped coordinate buses that traveled across the nation for the first unfolding of the AIDS Memorial Quilt. With my mother, I demonstrated against the outrageous cost of the senior Bush’s inauguration, and I have marched for peace, for choices, and for human rights. I have invested a great deal of time and energy working for the rights of Americans, a piece of which is shedding light on the misinformation that leads to stereotyping.

Stereotyping disturbs me whenever I observe it, yet it is especially appalling when it finds a home in an institute of higher education. College is where students learn about the world, where horizons can be expanded, and a place where students learn how to become better citizens of the world. I envision college professors as those charged with leading students towards those ends. In stark contrast with that ideal, however, one of my professors frequently exposes her ignorance by encouraging stereotypes and racist and homophobic ideologies in the classroom. Particularly absurd is the fact that Lily White is a professor of Speech Communication, using a textbook that makes clear the importance of understanding that people have many ways of being, different backgrounds, cultures, and experiences. One chapter features a discussion about stereotypes, and another focuses on cultural differences. Both include evaluation exercises, designed to help students look at their own beliefs and behaviors, and to learn to monitor and even change any distorted ways of thinking they might have.

To demonstrate that “we stick to our own kind,” Professor White brought a stereotype to life before our eyes and then failed to dispel the myth with facts. Professor White selected two male students to stand on either side of the classroom aisle. One of the men, a slender Caucasian fellow, stood to the left, and the other, who is very muscular with brown skin, stood to the right. Professor White moved down the aisle so that she was facing them from several feet away. She asked the class, “Now, if I was walking down the street alone at night, and these men were on either side, as I have them here, which side would I go to?” First there was silence, and then someone offered, “To the side with the muscular guy?” Professor White rolled her eyes and said, “No! I would go to the side that this guy is on!” pointing to the Caucasian man, “Because he looks familiar to me! He looks like people I went to school with, like people in my neighborhood!” Then as a second thought, she added, “I’m sure he’s really nice,” pointing to the brown man, “but he doesn’t look like people I know. See? We tend to stick to our own kind. It’s nothing against people who look different, we just feel safer with people who seem familiar.” With that, the stereotyping lecture had become a how-to lesson, and I had a quick mental image of the class donning white sheets and hoods for a fieldtrip. Well, not everyone, of course — just those who matched the sheets.

Stunned, I asked Professor White, “Exactly who is my own kind? Who is in that group?” She gave me a tired look, eyes rolling up towards the sky like Jesus painted on cheap velvet, and said, “Does he,” pointing to the brown man, “look like someone you went to school with? Or does he?” with emphasis, pointing to the white man.

“They both look like guys I went to school with,” I said. “They both look like friends of mine.” With a snort as her reply, the lesson was over.

Another time, as we discussed cultural differences, Professor White mentioned a practice common in some cultures wherein people, including men, kiss one-another on both cheeks in greeting. Not to have their masculine sensibilities betrayed, several of the men in class shouted, “No way! If I was over there and a man came up and kissed me, I’d punch him in the face!” Now my eyes were rolling upward as I silently begged God to please step in and stop the madness, but God stayed out of it, and a shouting match ensued. Soon enough we’d stepped right into that creepy land where straight men protest just a little too much about something they’ve perceived to be Gay. I begged Professor White to explain that this was all contextual, even that men embracing one-another is fine, that Gay men embracing is fine, for crying out loud, and that this was out of hand. She ignored me, and it continued on, Professor White breaking into laughter as she asked the men if, for example, they didn’t ever hug or kiss the cheeks of their fathers. None of them had ever, in their entire lives, touched any other man unless there was an outdoor sport involved. That the preferred sport in this instance is one in which the players wear snug fitting, shiny pants and pat each other’s hinies for encouragement made it even more ridiculous, if not a smidge hypocritical.

As the class began to simmer down, one of our classmates announced that she is Lesbian and requested that we watch what we say about Gay people, or she might be offended. Obviously anticipating another demonstration along the lines of the “we stick with our own kind” lesson, this student was alerting us ahead of time, and who could blame her? But ahead it went, and before you could say “stereotypical homophobic nonsense,” we were listening to Professor White tell us about Gayness. She pointed out that the self-identified Lesbian student does, in fact, look like a Lesbian. However, if the good Professor was out with one of her girl (space) friends, nobody would mistake them for Lesbians - it would be different, as she is so very feminine. However, if the Lesbian student were out with a girl (space) friend, it might be confusing due to the appearance of the student - one would not be able to tell if they were girl (space) friends, or girlfriends. I pointed out that there are many Lesbians who are quite feminine and many straight women who are not, but it was lost in the voices of dissent.

The semester is still young, so who can say what lesson will be next? I can only imagine, though, that somewhere right this minute, someone is denying the very behavior that they’re acting out, later saying, “I’m not being racist, but…” And from whom did they learn such things? With Professor White and others like her bringing stereotypes and

“-isms” to the classroom, the lessons of the past continue to be taught. It is unfortunate that these are not lessons learned from past horrors, but instead lessons based upon past beliefs and condoned by people in leadership positions by their very actions.

Yahoo! News - ‘Deeply Sorry’ Schwarzenegger Apologizes to Women

Soooooooo… Let’s see now. Ah-nold is sorry that he did things that he later discovered were offensive. (”Later” as in just the other day when it came up — and not via his conscience.) I am glad that I haven’t been a California resident for a bazillion years, because I’d have to be all up-in-arms (and legs and toes) about this recall business. As a spectator, however, it does have an entertainment value - actual dollar amount as of yet undetermined.

My favorite quote from the article: “Republican political consultant Allan Hoffenblum said that for the issue to harm Schwarzenegger’s campaign, “they would have had to come up with something completely new. This is not a new issue.” He was referring to past allegations about Schwarzenegger’s behavior on movie sets.”

Now you see, this is not new; Ah-nold has been offending women (and other people, no doubt) for years and years. We’re used to Ah-nold offending women, being sexist, a womanizer, all that- it’s old, baby! Let’s get something that will really hurt the campaign, something new! Hell, if the facts of his past are so unimportant, why not let him be president? Eh? Why the heck not? We’ve got George W-stands-for-White-Boy-Network Bush in office. His drinking and drugging past have had no impact on his popularity (although I hear he’s not doing as well with the crack dealers as he did in earlier polls), and the fact that his cash ‘n carry education was courtesy of his good ol’ pops and company doesn’t seem to ruffle any feathers. So yeah, apparently, when you are a republican, your past does not count.

Hmph, I say!

There’s nothing, really, with the suicide theme, to be honest. I mean, there’s a thing, but then again, there’s not. It’s a wee thing if it’s a thing at all. {Forgive me, Professor D, for using “thing” so many times!}

You are wondering, “How do suicide and GW Bush relate to each other?” Well, there are many answers to that question. Or at least two that come to mind right now. One answer –the obvious one– is that one wishes, at times, that she were a Kevorkian niece. You know, some family ties can really pay off (just ask Dubya), and having a professional in the mix might be handy. And why die a slow and painful death under the Bush administration when Uncle Jack could send me to my maker in just a few drowsy moments?

{By the way, even though I am speaking of Dr. Kevorkian in a semi-humorous tone, I truly do admire him and believe in the work he did. Some day, when you are old enough to hear it, I will tell you my own Kevorkian story.}

So there’s that connection between suicide and Bush. And now that I think about it, having Dubya in charge of things around here is almost like assisted suicide, anyway. If you’re not a rich, white guy, that is. If you are a rich white guy, then you’re probably pretty stinkin’ happy right now and wish that someone would send me to my maker. To that I say, “WhatEVER!” {Note Valley Girl tone}

Another connection might be this: throughout our relatively short history, fine American folks have been taking off for other countries to avoid putting up with some of the crap that goes on around here. From James Baldwin and Gertrude Stein to Johnny Depp and a zillion others, people have said, “I’m not gonna take this anymore! Let’s head to France, where it’s more relaxed and the coffee is better.” So then the message, hidden though it may be, is that anyone sticking around is asking for it and basically signing up for a suicide mission.

These are just some of my thoughts on how the suicide-Bush connection might be made. Frankly, I just really liked the title, “ups and downs of suicide (burning bush)” and so I went with it. Sometimes a title is just a title, eh?

And no, I am not planning to take off for France or anywhere else. I have cats and it would be an enormous pain in the ass to have them quarantined for however long they make you do that. They’d be miserable and I’d be miserable, and our combined misery would chafe the buzzes of thousands of French people. I have too much stuff to be switching countries at this point in life. Visits, yes. Long-term or permanent moves, no. It is best for some of the discontented to stick around and yammer and holler and wave signs about in the air and blog and write essays and letters and shake their fists. Someone’s got to do it, right? Right.

Finally… and this is really away from the suicide-Bush thing… I do not hate my country. No. There are those who might interpret my words and actions as hatred, but they would be wrong. Those people don’t like anyone who thinks differently about, well, just about everything or anything! There are many events and policies that really stink, and that’s my opinion and even the opinion of many others. There are also many good events and policies, and far more than “many” good people, and so we hang on to those in order to maintain and build a better US. (That could be read as “US” as in “we,” or as “US” as in United States” - take your pick.)

Not agreeing with the government is hardly a new phenomenon. It’s always happened and it’s happening now. So snap out of it and listen up!

Aah, a fresh day with a fresh blog! What could be better? {Oh, world peace, a different president, more shoe sales…}

I work part-time, three days a week in the fiscal office on campus — the good people there deal with students who have various loans. One of the co-workers, who, just for kicks and giggles, we’ll call, “Lucifer,” is the Collections Man. If you went to my school on a loan, for example, and you haven’t paid it back, watch out, because Lucifer will be on your ass like a Pink Pony dancer on Jack Whittaker. (That’s a little local humor for you!)

So there I was today, at the front desk, innocently minding my own business, working on a project, when Lucifer came up to chat. You should know that he still cannot pronounce my name. It’s now a joke (to him) to say it like this: “Fran-ch-elbdleblde?” It’s supposed to be funny to me, too, but it’s really not, and I’m done trying to make him say it correctly.

In any case, he came up to chat with me, which was strange enough, seeing as how our “chats” thus far have been about the paper-eating copy machine located in the hall across from his office. His office would be the one with Rush Limbaugh screeching from the radio. Imagine how much I love making copies when Lucifer’s in.

So, me –innocent, minding own business– when Lucifer came up to chat. Somehow he had determined, by looking at me, that I am not “like that.” Here’s how it started: After asking me who my American Government professor is, not recognizing the name so asking for a description, {”he has a kind of fu-manchu beard thing, pony tail, favors those snappy little driving caps…”} and then frowning at the description, Lucifer said, “Don’t you think that people dress too casually these days? In my time we wore at least a tie with our shirts, even to college.” He interrupted himself to say , “You know, Fran-ch-elbdleblde {laughs}, I can tell that you’re not… like that, so I think I can talk to you about some things.”

{Me: HUH?!}

“What do you think about that? About how liberally people dress?”

“Well…” I had to think quickly, realizing that I need this job and literally cannot afford to get myself canned for being honest at this point in time. “What do you mean ‘liberally’?” Ask for more information, that’s how to get out of it, I thought. Maybe he’ll forget his idea while explaining himself.

“Oh, the kids and even the teachers here, they dress so liberally. Ratty jeans, tee shirts, tennis shoes - they don’t look like the kind of leaders we want for our country tomorrow, do they?” He leaned over the counter at me a bit, looking genuinely concerned.

“People do dress more casually than they did when I was a kid, it’s true,” I answered. “I remember when you’d get dressed up to go on an airplane or a train, for example.”

“Exactly!” Lucifer’s ruddy cheeks deepened in color. “And these people, these liberals, I can’t even stand that word, when people say it in connection with politics! It’s horrible!”

Now I had to think really hard because, frankly, I wanted to bonk him on the head like Little Bunny FuFu, but deep in my heart knew that violence is not the answer. Violent war is not the answer, not even little tiny wars with simple head-bonking.

“Do you really think that there’s a connection between liberal thinking and casual dressing styles?” I asked, hoping that my widened eyes looked to him like astonishment and not what they really were: the pressure of keeping my hands in my lap had caused my eyes to bulge out.

“Oh, absolutely! Those liberals, the way they think, they want to make this whole country casual! I want our country to return to being conservative - that’s why I’m a Republican,” he said proudly, not even considering for a speck of a moment that maybe I’m one of those evil liberals. “Everything is different, even the language. It disgusts me when I’m walking down the hall out there and hear one of those little girls {aka: female college students} use that four-letter word! That word has become… regular… usage… of the language… that people have!”

I was worried, just a smidge, that Lucifer was about to have one of those scary Right-Wing orgasms, right at the front desk - like the kind that Dubya has by the minute over his war. But I digress…

“It’s true that language has changed and that people dress more casually these days. But don’t you think that our whole society has changed over time? Look at daytime programming, for example — all those shows that feature people telling their deep dark secrets on national television. People are much less private about things these days. People seem to be casual in many areas of life.” That would be me trying to not exactly disagree but not agree, either.

“Oh, Fran-ch-elbdleblde, that’s just part of it. Those liberals are bringing the whole country down. Without saying their names, I will say that the last president and his wife brought the image of the White House down completely. Just trash!” I was afraid that he was getting closer to the ejaculation.

He continued,”Now, you look at the President and what’s her name? Laura Bush. She’s the best First Lady we’ve had since… I don’t know when. Isn’t she the greatest?”

{Me, thinking: Dear God in heaven, why have you forsaken me?!} “She seems very sweet. Very interested in literacy,” I manage.

“Yes, yes!” he cried, ruddy cheeks now an almost-plum color. “She was a lie-bear-ean, you know! Yes, a lie-bear-ean! And didn’t go on her first date until she was 30-years old!”

Aah, yes — I recalled the Christian-fundamentalist-Right-wing-conservative virgin fetish. {”Just Say No” motto replacement: “Virgins At Any Age!”}

“Did you know that I once met the President’s mother, Barbara Bush, in person?” Of course he had no way of knowing this, but I threw it into the mix, hoping to steer this conversation towards meeting the mothers of famous people… or something… anything… else.

“She’s great! And a lie-bear-ean, Laura!” It became clear that Lucifer was following his own version of this chat, and I wondered if he thinks of Laura Bush bending over a book cart while having sex with his wife. Ewww, gross.

“Well.” I’d now moved down to one-word statements that have no meaning.

“Now, I’m not going to ask you what religion you are,” he said, “but I’m guessing Catholic” {pause, wait for acknowledgement from me that does not come and then…} “and so you know how important it is to dress nicely when you go to church. Why would you dress any differently at college?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe people spend long hours on campus and feel they learn better when they’re dressed comfortably.” I was straining to stay with the tour but not pay too close attention to the guide.

“It just wasn’t like that when I was in college. Now, my people were farmers, and after working in the fields, they would come in, clean up, and put on nice clothes again - just for supper! That’s how we did it! Country people are just like that.” This is a fact, apparently, even though it does not quite jive with my own experiences with “country people.” And either way, who gives a fluffy rat’s ass how people dress for dinner in their own homes?

“Yes, these liberals,” he continued, “they’re trying to bring the whole country down and it’s just awful.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty powerful statement,” I replied, as I tried to will my eyes back into their sockets while nearly pulling my fingers from their rightful place on my hands.

“Powerful, that’s true. I just wish our country would be conservative. Things would be a lot better. Well, Fran-ch-elbdleblde, I’m glad we had a chance to talk. I just wanted to talk to you about conservatism a little bit.”

And off he went, back to his office, where his good buddy Rush Limbaugh was, no doubt, spouting diarrheic fountains of idiocy.

Well. I was sure that I’d sent Naomi and a few others more fascinating email from my first days of school, but apparently I did not. Only two old posts are included here, since it would be dishonest to make things up and give them old dates. (But I considered it!)

I’m working on an essay right now (taking a break to write this, obviously) about one of my professors and I’ll post that when it’s all edited and such. It’s for my English class but about the speech professor. I’ve discreetly named her “Professor Lily White,” and the story is about her lessons in racism, homophobia and stereotyping. Truly a how-to lesson! No, i am not making that up!

Here I am in West Virginia, where no “h” will go unpronounced and being openly racist in class is just jim-dandy for the professors!

AlterNet: Bush’s Other Lies

Great article, but one pauses to wonder {pause–pause–pause} if David Corn isn’t pointing out the obvious.

I’m kidding, don’t throw your empties at me! It’s nice to have so many of the lies catalogued and in one tidy place. Makes it easier for me when pointing out the obvious to others.

MmHmm.

Yahoo! News - Bush Defends Change in Environmental Rules

Please someone, stop the madness! There is no foresight here, this man cannot see beyond his nose. First sends our people marching into Iraq, starts a big huge deadly fight, then with a finger up his nose, realizes he don’t have a PLAN. Or friends. Or anyone who is nodding approvingly. Oy, vey!

Now our boy Bush is lifting everything but common sense (which is soon to be outlawed, just you wait and see) and saying, “Hey, polluting corporations! Go ahead, pollute! ‘Sno big deal, ’cause, see, we’ll be helping the economy!” Except for the part where hundreds or thousands of citizens will develop pollutant-related illnesses which they won’t be able to have properly treated because they can’t buy medicine from Canada where the prices are regulated, and those very same medications are ridiculously priced in the USA!

And is this war not the priciest hard-on you’ve ever witnessed?! Puh-leeze! Why can’t Dubya visit one of the public bathrooms at Dupont Circle (in NW Washington, DC) and wank off with some boys? Wouldn’t that save lives and money and good air and… Well, you get the picture. It’s just about more than I can stand. It really is.

ARG!

This is the first in my old school girl posts. Naomi asked me to keep a weekly journal of the adventures of my return to college and I am following her directions!

I’m not really “old school” so much as I’m old(er) and going back to college to finish up a degree that, by the time it’s wrapped up, will have taken somewhere in the 22-year range.

Of course, I haven’t been in school all this time, silly! In fact, the last time I was a full-time student, the year was 1979. There were no CD’s yet, MTV had not yet aired, and ecstasy was still something that you experienced with a really intense orgasm… or a good ice cream cone. Either/or. (I can say that I’ve now had all manner of ecstasy, including the illegal kind, and it’s still a toss-up as to which is the better choice!)

In any case, here it is, the beginnings of something. I may add my posts to Naomi here, for posterity. You know, keep things in one tidy place and all of that. And now, old school girl really must go to sleep, so that she’s prepared for a full day at college tomorrow!