UPDATE Just what is executive power limited to anyway? Honestly, I don't know but hope it'll eventually be clarified. Oh, and big surprise that Gonzales's successor made this decision.

*

They've had due cause before now, but finally, they got up off their asses.

Of course, Bush is calling it a 'contemptible', partisan move. But actually, it's the law (for both parties).

I wonder what might have happened if Lewinsky refused to honor a subpoena? Who knows though, since she agreed to testify. One might consider, however, how that whole impeachment trial was over a private sexual affair, rather than the partisan, and likely illegal, firing of eight federal prosecutors.

In the meantime, Bush continues to worship our judicial system.

Between Blue and Yellow is 003300

Such is the endless snow, equestrian in its desire to roam. Fields with manes, hooves; kicking.

I would like to know. If you asked, I'd say I'd like to know. All splendor, white with morbid yellow, full of studious obsession, boundless candy rappers (Twix or Whatnot). If you were to ask, I'd say I daily imagine a dome stretching across, contours tremendous blurred; within, a paddle and hold, dipping, hold, aligning, surrounded by potential blue. If nothing else, if you'd ask, I'd say I desire this blur and its tortured indiscriminate. Periodic sentences, structures like Absalom, slain and rejected and like a lone scarf drifted from some neck into the gutter. That is, if you were to ask, I'd say the only landscape unexplored.

That was a sentence unfinished.
That was a sentence.
What was a sentence without?

Humility is the dog I saw drawn, by chain, to his death by several dives of the hatchet, in a foreign place.
Joy is the dog I saw yesterday. I named him Not Yesterday.

I only ever meant to climb trees.

Self-Portrait


Hi. I. Yellow. Resume... Imagine resume. No, curriculum vitae. Hi. I. So want.

My father used to draw me upon flat fields of snow upon a two-pronged sled in cold, and if you were to ask, I'd say I always imagined being self-sufficient, rich and desirable in infinite experience, research, traditional.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I intrude and disrupt? Did I change the course? Do you all love me? Oh, am I in the way? Was that not what you meant? Too arrogant, not needed? Am I a symbol? Is everything about my skin hyperbolic?

I know. I know."

Surrounding my reflection are a million empty pates, and for this I.

Portrait



When I read, I read for coherence. For continuity. Poetry is a humbug. I'd rather read a long walk down the street with a wishbah for a beard. I'd rather hear about daily blather and refined immigration than a mind twining itself aloft. Thus, I'd rather have nothing to do with my own mind, and everything to do with yours. Perhaps we read linear as prayer for the stories and myths we'd build by. Unfortunately, my mind is only occasionally whole, but for the most part moreover and then she said.

Divided. Hole.


On the thirtieth of April, 1576, a small band of women broke awake from their husbands and ventured to set up camp on thin Pyrenee hills. The wind fierce during winter, turning the draft a pale form of yellow. Horses and goats occasionally nattered by-the-by and one 'widowed' woman awoke each morning to find her voice levitating within the tent she shared with her friend.

She thought of kissing her friend at times, but loved her too much. Couldn't lose her, couldn't risk, couldn't accept less than perfect return, couldn't get past their differences, but mostly couldn't lose. Though she saw past the dish and the spoon.

So she woke up on the 27th of May, 1578, and looked over through the land of her breath to watch her friend breathe in sleep and all the infantile world lived in, the horses and goats outside, aligning themselves upon broken yet perfect posts. She washed her hand through the air, stood up, accepted the limitations, and started a small then medium fire going in the fire-pit outside. Before long, all the other women joined her, and she noticed in their walk how women past thirty become so alone, they virgin birth. Men of course have learned to loneliness but women find even greater abandon.

One woman, she saw, had lost everything, and so made a carnival within her liver. Rollicking, she said, rolling and the most beautiful sight, she said, was the sound of wind over feldspar half-removed from the turf.

City, this City, What Stays in the City, You Know?




The lights something within the round hemisphere that seems within the days of each day, the past three years. I am leaving this Chicago in my head, even as I live here. I am flirting with her, although I leave for water and green alone. I am already with my family, and it is odd to still be here. I'm glad I stayed to know, but every day seems almost a waste. Waste of course meaning so many words about where I've already been.

If you were to ask, I'd say I'm almost happy, rather, but undefined, full of tomorrow. And longing past the lunar ice of Lake Michigan, so incredible and broken, white, vast, something that split within the winter.

Regardless of Oscars, I've been plodding away on Moby Dick, although I still haven't even decided whether it makes me feel that "I like it" jibe I normally require to get past 50 pages. So far, "I like it" at times.

But I find myself continuing to read it because 1) I'm curious why so many people love it, 2) I'm curious about Ahab, 3) I like all the names, 4) I find it funny at times [not funny as in laughable, but funny as in Melville had a pretty tweakish sense of humor], 5) I've been told by fishermen that it 'fails' in certain regards to 'truly' represent life at sea, and I want to know what this means, and 6) I get excited by the Jonah references [the thought of being swallowed by a leviathan has long given me special mystical shivers].

In the meantime, this is my favorite quote:

Hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling. (Ch 17)

I also like (in addition to the first paragraph, which is a mighty fine beginning, if I do say so):

"...But flukes! man, what makes thee want to go a whaling, eh? - it looks a little suspicious, don't it, eh? - Hast not been a pirate, hast thou? - Didst not rob thy last Captain, didst thou? - Dost not think of murdering the officers when thou gettest to sea?"
(Ch 16, Peleg speaking)

For all men tragically great are made so through a certain morbidness. Be sure of this, O young ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease. (Ch 16)

Yep, yep, onwards I go... and I'm looking forward with pleasure to the description of the boats and sailing.

Yes... on how giving corporations the right to ignore constitutional rights at the whim of the unchecked executive branch saves YOU!

Interesting... Bush has spun this as Democrats endorsing multi-billion dollar lawsuits against True Patriots.

Hmmm... Last I knew, those who broke the law (especially for crimes slightly more pressing than smoking pot) opened themselves up to prosecution. But wait a second, is that a tear I see dripping down from your dewy eyes?

I guess, Daddy G, I should rush to my office, bend myself over the one chair left in the house (thanks to roommate), lower my drawers, and paddle this ignorant poor-girl lesbo hinie, preferably while video-taping it for you boys, just to show my support for anti-terrorism big heart lovingness of those who do just as requested in moments that pale in comparison.

Ten to one, the Democrats cave on this issue within the month. I'm curious and afeard. I'm also a betting gal.

*

Another cheery note: I find the Don Siegalman prosecution, and the debate that's spun up around it, crazy interesting. I'm beginning to fret about whether I'm a conspiracy nut, or whether things really are this crazy? Why have Republicans and Democrats become each other's #1 enemy?

thanks to g for the link.

*

I just spent three hours chatting with a friend in a coffee shop. She's someone I've told myself firmly not to flirt with, but always do (poorly). Ah friendship. Time to find a treadmill... dancing... must flirt only with strangers.

*

Oh, and speaking of weird roommates, yesterday cb said to me: "It was strange that you were up at 6:30 this morning!"

And I said, "Huh? I wasn't up at 6:30 this morning. What are you talking about?"

And she said, "Yeah, actually you walked into the bathroom as I was getting out of the shower stark naked, and I said 'Um, hello? I'm in here,' and you said 'Oh, I'm sorry,' turned around and walked back out."

And then I said, "Haha, funny joke. You're joking, right?"

And she said, "Uh, no, I'm not joking."

(I haven't been caught sleep-walking for ten years. I didn't do anything like that to you, c2, did I?)

Perhaps I am the weird roommate. Ahem. But I have no remembrance of walking in on my naked new roommate.

i found an old comic i drew for the imaginary zine i was working on that was going to be called "tongue thrust" (after the woman i worked for in Alaska who cleaned jellyfish from her cheek by using her tongue). it made me laugh:


and i enjoyed my etch-sketch before going dancing tonight:


i have on mascara, eyeliner, a metal belt, plus moves of the body too.

Labels: etchsketch

MINORARITY

Runners-up: "wet bags" (wetbacks), "amtrak scare" (anthrax scare)

My new roommie - let's call her cb - woke up this morning entirely (and noisily) convinced that her cat is sick. Her evidence: he looks "different," especially because his "eyes are really yellow."

Point of interest for me: the cat's eyes are yellow. They were yellow yesterday too, and I'm pretty sure they were yellow before that.

"Some congressional leaders claim that this will not affect our security," the president said. "They are wrong. Because Congress failed to act, it will be harder for our government to keep you safe from terrorist attack."

Dear President Bush,

I would rather face external threat. I would rather maintain the safeguards against government authority, the ones that have been in place for years. I do not trust you or your cronies, and I have good reasons; you have demonstrated your irresponsibility time and time again, and even if you hadn't, I still would not want to give a blank check to future unknown presidents and agencies.

Surely it is still possible to learn from the past.

Kudos - finally - to Congress. Chide away, Mr. President; we are not children to bend over your knee.

How spectacular: Rolling Stone magazine and I are on the same page. I'm bloody sick of politicians, and the decisions the American government keep making scare me to death. What in the world are the next twenty years going to look like?

President Bush pressured the House on Wednesday to pass new rules for monitoring terrorists' communications, saying "terrorists are planning new attacks on our country ... that will make Sept. 11 pale by comparison." [ap news]

No surprise, Bush is indisputably a shockingly evil president. If you're not paying attention to this wiretapping and phone company debate, you should be. Bush continues to use 9-11 as a tool of manipulation, and if the so-called "Patriot" Act wasn't enough, further erosion of our Constitution by a lying, sneaky, fear-mongering dictator-in-the-making is a very scary thing indeed.

This is interesting.

Since I should be working on one of the four applications for the schools I'm applying to teach at full-time starting next fall (yeah, they're hiring now, the meanies), or at least preparing for the class I'm currently teaching and that already makes me want to pull out my hairs one by one, I figured I would help my sister prepare for the upcoming interviews she has with The Vet Schools.

****

Dear A,

I know you are a smart lady, but surely you need my expert help in preparing for your interviews. You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself by showing up all sassy in one of your sharp little vet pajama-sets, only to discover that you have no answers for their challenging and often mystical questions. So I have composed a list of highly-probable questions they will want to ask you. For some of them, I have written the right answer.

And I know you may doubt my ability to help you, since I, as opposed to your smarty britches, have not had o-chem, biochem, nuerochem, physics, or that class that made your head bulge slightly in the left lobe (which one was that?). But I would like to assure you that I have far more experience applying for various schools or jobs, and then showing up to the interviews unprepared. You may doubt me, but let me assuage your fears; yes, I have a far greater track record of mishap, incompetence, and unpreparedness than you have ever deigned to aspire to.

Should I even mention that one interview I went to, the one for the Russian refugee coordinator position? You know, the interview that was conducted half in Russian. The one I got done with, walked home from, and only then looked up the Russian word "refugee," perhaps a bit latish. No, you believe me?

Well then, okay, here are your interview questions:

What would be your response if a cat entered your office on its hind legs? Would you be startled by its long, blackish boots? What about the feather jutting up from his cap? On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being outright suspicion, how much would you trust this cat?

First, I would ask him on whose behalf he was walking. I might cry a little at his dedication. And although I would admire his boots greatly, even ask him where he had them tailored, I would not be startled by them. After all, what's so damn startling about boots? As for the feather, it would depend on what kind of it was. If it were a phoenix feather, I would ask him how his stomach was feeling. That would probably be my initial diagnosis, in fact. 5.

Catch? Or release?

Aha. Tricky, but aren't you leaving out the truest option?

How many electrons does Seaborgium have?

[Look it up, lazy.]

If you were trapped on a life raft with a Bengal tiger, orangutan, hyena, rat, several spiders, and your sister, how would you go about protecting your sister?

[Everything depends on your personal answer to this one.]

On a related note, are you aware of how hyenas give birth? Do you think that's okay? How would you employ genetic engineering to give the female hyena a nicer experience?

Yes. No. It is my philosophy as a teacher, um vet, to give them the tools to enable themselves and their future populations without further interference from us dastardly interlopers.

True or False: "Moby Dick" meant exactly what it means now when Melville was writing his novel.

True.

How much would the wolf have had to puff to get the bricks down? (We want the equation for this one).

Oh, that's easy.

True or False:
"A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse of course."

Duh. Nobody's the boss of anyone else's mouth!

Talk about yourself. How are you in the patience department?

[This is all you.]

Do you mind when neutered male cats try to hump your arm? Why or why not.

[Ibid]

Why did the little dog laugh?

He thought it great fun for fork to be cuckolded by a pair of lesbian half-cutleries.

If you love animals so much, and humans are animals too, then how can you consider leaving people out of your practice and only dealing with other animals? Are you prejudiced? Don't you feel ashamed?

[Hmmm. Interesting... I will leave it to your conscience.]

Which flies higher, an ostrich or a penguin?

Depends on which dwarf is doing the tossing.

What is your position on HMOs?

[Ibid]

If a cluster of baby penguins collected somewhere along the lakeshore (rather than locked inside a glass-walled room of the Lincoln Park zoo), would you have been better able to bear the subzero weather this year? Why or why not.

Yes. Because I would just go over to the lake, stroll over to one of them, put my arm around him/her, look up at the stars, maybe chat about their kids, and offer a Klondike bar or two. [acknowledgment of this answer grudgingly given to Girlfriday]

or

No. Because those bastards always think they're cute enough to invite themselves over to my house, eat my stashed hidden chocolate (which they always can find), and then leave cacao-scented poos all over my hardwood floors as they scramble back to their subarctic bastions.

Why did God make the platypus so damn funny looking?

Who could resist?

If, after the wolf had been sewn up with the rocks inside his belly, you wished to save an endangered species from falling into a well without performing invasive surgery, what would you do?

Anne of Green Gables already taught me about the wonders of ipecac, but I'd probably add a slab of butter to help with the passage.

What? You think you already know everything? What are you, a smarty britches? Why do you think we'd want a smarty britches strutting about our campus, acting all smarty with your little smarty nose?

***

I might have left out a few, so feel free to add to A's list. The better prepared she is, the more we can hit her up for free x-rays when we get bored in the future.

[draft removed for drafting purposes... sorry, I would delete the entry altogether but I like Girlfriday's comment]