n. infantile pattern of suckle-swallow movement in which the tongue is placed between incisor teeth or between alveolar ridges during initial stage of swallowing (if persistent can lead to various dental abnormalities) v. [content removed due to Bush campaign to clean up the internet] n. act of nyah-nyah v. pursuing with relentless abandon the need to masticate and thrust the world into every bodily incarnation in order to transform it, via the act of salivation, into nutritive agency

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

quotas and crazies

Good thing H is the most beautiful dog in the world, because thing's have been odd for certain.

Granted, I recently managed a winter teaching gig at the local cc, which is nice, also because it's a new class for me - up a level this time, which ought to be aboveall, new. Also, today tutoring was crazy - two and a half hours of paper writing (me learning more about reading comp and helping too and etc) and environmental science.

But man. I misspelled Ballot last blog. I brooded.

Other than that, I've wondered lately. Trying to figure out how to set new goals, since all my old goals have either been vetoed-by-maturance, or accomplished. And in that line of focus, rrrrgrrrr to the specific idea of community for being an extreme difficulty (I guess the 60s weren't an anomaly) but real good-O to art schoolies and knowledge dedication, and/or crew or misfits- for being peaceful, sometimes kind and fun crazy. Congrats to individuals for being so ruddy beautiful, but grrrrrrr to those same individuals for being spread so very far. Congrats to me for working intensely for so long, but a big "you suck" for being, after all that, undisciplined and very panicky/unclear afterwards.

I notice this country I live in tries, grandly, to support certain kinds of growing towards adulthood - the kind that involves male bachelors, marriage and/or family. Being outside the three is potentially weird, I think, but potentially important as well. I don't mean to harp on it, and keep yapping about it, or at least by that I mean to apologize for not having found a place to be proud of, but what archetype/template exists for alternates, alternatives, and aliens - those whose sense of belonging or happiness is predicated only on our dreams?

In recent research: did you know that 1882 immigration regulations barred America from, specifically, "convicts, lunatics, idiots, and persons likely to become public charges," and that later "loathsome" and then "idiots, imbeciles, and morons" were caveats added to legislation? Perhaps, were all these mandates applied to those already (via vaginal migration) considered Citizen, mass deportation might have been the result? From my perspective of course. But of course from my perspective, abortion opponents, bible thumpers, rich people, or heterosexual marriages wouldn't be... no, I guess I'd accept them, not being one to define everything legitimate in direct alignment to my own fascination with... myself.

I mean, "Idiots, Imbeciles, and Morons" and later racial quotas that barred Asians? Ouch, that was rather embarrassing to read. I don't know why it shocked me so much though, considering our history. But really, according to the story, not much is pretty about the battle to mark out and define belonging to this, the American soil.

Via what simple young-adult nonfic I've read, it seems that everyone new has made it more difficult for everyone next to be new. In light of all that, I can't help but either growl in the faces of those who bar odd passage, or wrap my arm around others' shoulder and say, hey, who do you think is next?

Hmmm. Anyhow, any of ya'll who know something about 1950 Mexican-American immigration or illegal border crossings: feel free to email me. I'm interested.

In the meantime, how did this friggin' pup turn out so much like his mum despite absolutely no genetic inheritance? (and no, I don't mean how adorable he is; just how lazy)
Comments:
Well, life is too short to brood
about a misspelling...today I'll brood that I was mean to even allude to it. Maybe I was motivated by puppy envy!
 
no, it was a funny misspelling. i'm just sensitive about those things, i don't know why. probably too much teasing as a kid, more for mispronunciation than spelling, but still...
 
K was just telling me how difficult it is to work in a field that is male dominated and how she doesn't feel respected as a female or as a surveyer. She said she's not sure why they don't seem to respect her when she has the same schooling and training as the rest of them and even more experience in the field than some of them.

What age do we live in after all? Why can't a woman work where she wants to, dress how she wants, date whomever she pleases, marry whomever she pleases, have access to any birth control method she sees fit, as well as be able to decide what she wants to do with her own body?

Maybe James Brown is still right... maybe it is still a man's world?
But it's not really, there's more woman on earth than men, and it's certainly not a white-man's world anymore. But I'll be damned if they don't throw their tantrums and kick, yell and scream, tryin' to keep things they way they have always been. But, white man, times are a changing and there's nothing you can do to keep yourself in sole power any longer, and you certainly don't have power over woman and what they choose for themselves.

O.K. I ranted a little.
Harold is a very sweet boy! Although, it looks as though he controls your bed.
-La
 
"it looks as though he controls your bed." La, that just sounds wrong.

but even in the innocent sense: nope, he doesn't. H just knows he's allowed 30 minutes of morning cuddle time in my bed, and by darned if he's going to let my cheerful desire to start the day deter him from getting them.

*

What brought on your rant?

Sometimes I think we're the ridiculous ones to expect problems that have been around for centuries - racism, sexism, migration, poverty - to have disappeared just because we want them to, and also want to believe that we are special enough to have made them do so.
 
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