Henry Ossawa Tanner. The Annunciation. 1898. Oil on canvas. Museum of Art, Philadelphia. Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Ecce Ancilla Domini (The Annunciation). 1850. Oil on canvas. Tate Gallery, London.
Francisco de Goya. Annunciation. 1785. Oil on canvas. Collection of the Duchess of Osuna, Seville.
Far be it from me to defend anything China's government perpetrates against the Uighurs, but does the government of Turkey really want to go there?
That said, I still miss the Ancien Régime.
Dlisted has got me laughing so hard, I'm actually huffing. This post has it all. The original story itself is is enough to bring the chuckles (why is there a penguin named "Linda"?), but Michael K's commentary just made me spew Dr. Pepper out my nostrils.
Frenchie is conferencing it up in Chi-Town this week, and Sweet Pickles is reminded of a debate he witnessed several years ago. Early on at a technology 'summer camp' for visual resources curators, participants were considering whether practitioners should hold joint annual meetings with art librarians, or convene separately each year. The discussion was pretty dorky, for the most part, until one dude mentioned to us other smartasses sitting at the back of the room, that convening separately would cut the pool of potential conference hook-ups in half. Hey, if you want people to attend your conference, you need to be thinking about things like that. I'm just sayin'.
Wednesday in my International Relations class for the Mexican students, each had to give a small presentation about a female political leader of the 20th or 21st century. After everyone had finished telling the group about the different presidents and prime ministers, I posed the question: "If we had to elect one of these people to become the leader of our class, for whom would you vote, and why?" The options were: Corazon Aquino, Violetta Chamorro, Benazir Bhutto, Indira Gandhi, Golda Meir, Angela Merkel, and Margaret Thatcher (there had been a few other possibilities, but these are the ones they each selected to learn about). Their responses really impressed me. After all 7 of the students had voted, the results were:
Violetta Chamorro - 1
Angela Merkel - 3
Margaret Thatcher - 3
To break the tie, they insisted that I cast the deciding vote. I hemmed and hawed, discussing what I liked about each, detailing why it was difficult to choose one. But, of course, I eventually came down to either Thatcher or Meir with Merkel a close third (after all, I'm both a Saxon and a Jew), explaining how significant I felt it was that both Thatcher and Meir had demonstrated that women can be successful as commanders-in-chief. Certainly the Yom Kippur War outweighs the Falklands War in terms of military crises, but since Meir had no chance of winning our class election, I went with Thatcher. If only the Tories had been as smart as my students (John Major? Please.), the Iron Lady might still be kicking ass and taking names!
G-Wrizzle is back in town after more than a month in 'British Honduras' doing his archaeological thang. Saw him out tonight at birthday drinks for JustJess, where he regaled the crowd with the annual tales of jungle parasites... but with a twist. According to G-Wrizzle's scratching-gestures, he had been experiencing a recurring itchy sensation between his legs (I hear ya, brother). It seems that this year's bot fly had embedded itself in the 'taint region'. Since, apparently, bot fly removal is notoriously tricky, inquiring minds wondered how G-Wrizzle approached the problem. "I did a little shave down there, and slapped a piece of duct tape over it!" Sweet Pickles is really going to miss that fool when he leaves. And if any doubts remained in my mind as to why I chose art history over archaeology as a major, this reconfirms my decision. There ain't no bot flies inside museums!
R-Dev is finally here! All the best to the cool parents, sweet older brother, and the much-awaited newborn!
It looks like Time Team America is finally coming to a PBS station near you! You should totally check it out, because it features my friend, JustJess' old man, and archaeological celebrity B-Hale! Locally, I think we can see it (the Roanoke episode, I believe) on Wednesday at 7:00pm. The Time Team America website (linked above) has a search function under the "TV Schedules" tab, so Sweet Pickles' non-local readers can find out when to catch it. I'm hoping that in addition to sifting through the dirt, B-Hale will also dish the dirt (i.e., share any behind-the-scenes gossip on who was doing whom at the dig site)!
Every year, Brad Bagby & T-Bagg, Wipey & Hennie, and B-Menz & D-Menz go all out for their kids' float(s) in Brad's & T-Bagg's neighborhood 4th of July parade. This year, their prize-winning entry was a tribute to America's space program, complete with papier-mâché space shuttle, tin-foil lunar rovers, and matching patriotical do-rags. Our pathetic local 'parade' (usually a cop car, three kids in a red wagon, and some hippie's dog sporting a bandana) could take a lesson from these fools. They don't clown.
Independence Day was big fun, but the day after has been a bowl full of ass. The party at D-Rob's swimming pool got started right with some of D-Feit's frickin' awesome homemade beer. Dude gots his own kegs, yo! So, Sweet Pickles got overserved. When I arrived at the outdoor concert on campus, I switched to beery marys, and things could have remained relatively grownup, but then the Ecuadorians showed up. Any hope for Sweet Pickles to have a sane evening vanished. I went and listened to live music, for crying out loud! I don't know what it is about them, but Sweet Pickles' world gets off the chain when they're around. An afternoon of D-Feit's beer + an evening with Ecuadorians = all Sunday in bed until 4:00pm. That's twice in a period of three days. It's probably a good thing that the holiday weekend is over, because my liver can't take any more.
Help me to welcome M-Shan to the blogosphere by checking out Peace and Carrots!
Thursday evening, several of us took the visiting Ecuadorian faculty and staff out for a night of grownup fun on the back porch of a local watering hole. I guess I should have known what the night had in store when, after only an hour and a half, they were serenading the crowd with Spanish songs.
Early on, N-Lope asked the group to tell us about themselves. The math professor among them (think Cuban band leader more than stereotype of a math professor... we'll call him Juan) volunteered to start the introductions, because he had previously practiced introducing himself on the first day of his Intensive English classes. He began, "My name is Juan, and I like X." Sweet Pickles got very excited, and was thinking that Pablo might be his new favorite Ecuadorian, before we determined that he in fact enjoyed los huevos instead of la droga sintética. Then,the question became, how much do you love eggs that it would be one of the most basic facts of your identity when meeting new people? Juan said he didn't know the relevant English words to enumerate his specific interests, hobbies, and preferences, so he had simply chosen something from the vocabulary that he did remember. This made sense to Sweet Pickles, because if I was having to accomplish the same task in Spanish, it would sound something like this: "Mi nombre es Salmueras Dulces. Me gustan abrigos y agua."
Eventually, there emerged a consensus for karaoke, but by that time, only an hour remained before closing time. So, the entire group (plus a few locals who had joined our merry band on the porch) transferred the action over to the home of T-War so that the festivities could continue. [Note: Sweet Pickles was not only impressed by T-War's generosity, but by the fact that her house was clean enough to have over a dozen unexpected guests over at a moment's notice! Sweet Pickles needs at least a half-hour's lead time to clear out all the empty booze bottles and random underwear before people can come over.]
At T-War's the fun only intensified. At one point, I was outside in her backyard, and through her windows, the dancing in her kitchen and living room looked like Rio during Carnival. When the beer ran out, Sweet Pickles wasn't ready to cease and desist, so he switched over to the red wine (bad idea). When I finally got home at 4:00am, I was asking myself in amazement, "What just happened?" Magic, that's what happened. Take it from Sweet Pickles... wherever they find themselves, Ecuadorians bring the par-tay. Gringos got schooled in how to do it right. They weren't messing around. Ecuador just might be Sweet Pickles' new favorite country.
233 years old, and still lookin' good!
Mark Sanford (the the married politician billing taxpayers for his international airfare to a booty-call in the Pampas), has apparently decided that he will not resign his position as governor of South Carolina, citing King David as his example. The biblical hero David, progenitor of the messiah? OH REALLY? If casting about for a biblical adulterer with which to compare yourself, try Potiphar's wife. Because your political résumé doesn't quite hold up. David was a giant-slaying anointed dynasty-founder. You are the sleazy governor of a not-all-that-important state. On The Daily Show tonight, host Jon Stewart (and Member of the Tribe) said it best... something to this effect: If you are a conservative Christian caught in adultery, don't use my book in your justifications... use your own!
Via Facebook, Wipey writes:
hello sp--
i have to say that i am not that impressed with my newest
fb friend, mrs. [girl we were in TAG with in junior high]. at first i was okay with
reconnecting with her, but then, when I asked if she wanted to get
together with her family at [a popular location in Austin, where they both live], she's like, "well, at
this time of year, we really stay in our part of town. maybe we'll run
into you sometime." okay---was that the biggest blow-off ever?
apparently her conservative husband, mr. [husband of girl we were in TAG with in junior high], is running for judge
in travis county. she made sure to tell me that. i think that i might
actually get involved in politics next spring pacifically to thwart [them]. you know how i hold grudges against people like
this...OMG...did you see what she did on her birthday:"church in the
morning, pappadeaux for lunch, relaxing in the afternoon." okay. i may
be obsessed at this point, but i am furious. i think i have an anger
management prob....but maybe i'm just d-runk?
party on--
Wipey
Dear Wipey,
Although I had a crush on Ms. Girl-We-Were-in-TAG-with-in-Junior-High, in her most recent pics she looks very much like what she has apparently become... an old lady school teacher. You, of all people (as a former member of the First Baptist family), should know better than to expect too much in the way of coolness from these people. But, with that being said, how does she think y'all are going to "run into" each other in a metropolitan area the size of Austin? And why is "staying in our part of town" tied to the season? Or maybe she's like the [Dallas resident and former friend of ours from high school] of Travis County agoraphobics? And her idea of birthday fun is not only a major snooze, but would be most people's definition of how NOT to celebrate a birthday. What, between church and Pappadeaux's, she couldn't squeeze in a root canal and a tax audit? And what's the point of living in one of the nation's hippest urban areas if all you're going to do is church and cheesy chain restaurants? It's like moving to SoHo or Chelsea or the West Village for the quilting circles and monster-truck shows. And as for her husband's Republican political aspirations in Austin, Texas... I hope he'll let us know how that works out for him. So... my advice to you is: Write back to Ms. Girl-We-Were-in-TAG-with-in- Junior-High, saying "If the cost of the gasoline is an issue for y'all, we totally understand. Lots of people are having to stay in their parts of town in this economy. We'd be happy to come pick y'all up. And dinner will be our treat (we insist!)."
For the rest of Sweet Pickles' readers, I share Wipey's experience as a cautionary tale. Being friends with Baptists on Facebook can sometimes be as difficult as being friends with Baptists in real life. For those of you with troubles of your own, let Sweet Pickles tell you what to do about them... email me your questions. We'll start a new feature! What should we call it? Pickles Knows Best? The Judge Picky Show? Advice for the Young at Heart?
On Tuesday night, I saw that a former ESL student of mine had posted this status update on Facebook:
"I AM SO TIERD OF FUCKING EVERYONE!!!I AM TIERD!!!I HAD ENOUGH!!!"
I hear ya, sister. People don't realize what hard work sluttin' it up is. Most days, I'm exhausted by noon. But if you want to be an expert at your craft, you've got to put in the work every day. Very few of us are born good-in-bed... most spend years to refine their skills. So, stay focused, and don't give up!
Today, I noticed that the student had posted this status update on Facebook:
"MY STATUS THE OTHER DAY SUPPOSE TO SAY: I AM FUCKING TIERD OF EVERYONE!!!I AM TIERD!!!I HAD ENOUGH!!!THIS IS THE RIGHT VERSION!"
Oh. Okay, never mind. Apparently you were disliking everybody. Sweet Pickles has the opposite problem... he love everybody long time.
You know what puts me in a good mood? Italian people. From Lake Como to Palermo, they are a nation of shrinkers (i.e., delightful individuals whom Sweet Pickles wishes he could shrink and carry around in his pocket to pull them out whenever I need a pick-me-up)!
Of all the incoming international students we tested yesterday and today, the sole Italian was all that it took to turn the whole experience from drudgery into a pleasure. My colleagues and I were working in pairs to interview over 70 language-learners in order to assess their proficiency levels. Mostly, it's a torturous business, but my partner and I had the random good fortune to land this Sicilian.
All the faculty and staff ate lunch together today, and were debriefing each other on the morning's events. N-Lope observed, "Y'all were in there a really long time with him!" That's because the two 'warm-up'/practice questions (What is the weather like today? What are your plans for the rest of the day?) turned into an actual conversation, and he was impossible to stop without being rude. I especially remember his weather response: "Is very very hot! Too much! How can I say... the skin, she is wet, all the time!"
I asked my lunching counterparts if any of them had ever watched an Italian in one of these speaking-testing interviews. They were like, "Watched??? We've only been listening. What is there to look at?" A LOT. The gestures, the body movements, the facial expressions. This guy actually got up out of his chair twice during the interview.
During the 'warm-up'/practice questions before the test officially began, he was devastated to learn that I am an art historian who has never been to Italy. "Is not possible. You must come now, because you have a friend!" [We had just met 5 minutes ago.] Once the test got under way, I don't think he really ever cared that he was being evaluated... he was just really excited to meet my colleague and me, and wanted to chat.
On one question in the test, students must cancel an appointment with an imaginary friend by pretending to call the friend to apologize and explain their situation. The Sicilian, with his hand to his ear mimicking a telephone, calls me by name: "Sweet Pickles, I cannot go walk with you in the park today. Enrique call me. His girlfriend, she break with him. He so sad now. I must go to him. But tomorrow... tomorrow we can. Is okay?" And he's waiting for me to respond. In all the thousands of times I have ever asked this question, no student has ever asked me to become directly involved in his or her answer. Equally unique, no student has ever used romantic troubles in their invented excuses for this question.
After the 25 minutes we spent together in that classroom (the testing interview normally takes about 10 minutes), he hugged and kissed my colleague and me on his way out.
Although I wasn't a fan back when he was the most popular artist in the world, and it took much hindsight for me to appreciate his talent, these three are reason enough to mourn his passing. What are your Top 3 hits by MJ?
Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)
Off the Wall
Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'
Yesterday, one of my favorite former ESL students (we'll call him Heinrich from Honduras) asked me...
Heinrich from Honduras: "What means spleef?"
Sweet Pickles: "Uh, do you mean spliff? How was the word used in a sentence?"
Heinrich from Honduras: "I hear it in a song. Bob Marley say 'Excuse me while I light my spleef."
Sweet Pickles: "Uh huh, that's what I thought you said."
Heinrich from Honduras: "What it means?"
Sweet Pickles: [demonstrates universal hand-gesture for ganja times]
Heinrich from Honduras: "Oh yeah, this what I think."
Sweet Pickles: "Out of all your teachers, why are you asking me this question?"
Heinrich from Honduras: " 'Cause you know a lot about music."
Sweet Pickles: "Mmm hmm. I know a lot about opera, but you never ask me what aria means."
Heinrich from Honduras: "Also I am confident with you now."
Sweet Pickles: "Mmm hmm. Well, I don't have any, if that's why you're asking."
I'm feeling especially old today.
A close-up view of young Miss Fox's hammer-thumb that Brad found.
This just in from Brad Bagby... he and Megan Fox are breaking up. He can't deal with her thumb. I have to agree with Brad... if Megan wants to do sexy times, she's going to need to wear gloves.
I love it! And you thought Sweet Pickles' name sounded goyish! :)
What a fascinating story about an isolated community of Peruvian Jews. This quote in particular resonates: "We were isolated for so many decades, living on the jungle’s edge in a Catholic society without rabbis or a synagogue, in which all we had were some vague notions of what it meant to be Jewish. But when I was a child, my mother told me something that forever burned into my mind... She told me, ‘You are a Jew, and you are never to forget that.’ "
I wanted to go out tonight since tomorrow will be the only day this week that I don't have to get there by 9:30am. Met up with JustJess and B-Hale, also knowing that K-Fiel and M-Add might be coming out after seeing some film. But I was never able to get into the groove, because it took 20 minutes to get a beer. Every time. On a Monday night! However, the deal-breaker was the volume of the music. It was like shopping in an Abercrombie & Fitch (but hetero-erotic). Disclaimer: Most of you already know that I'm pretty hard-of-hearing in the first place. But this was ridiculous. If no one else is complaining, I always assume that it's just my deafness. But I was far from the only one complaining. If an establishment wants to crank up the jamz, then Sweet Pickles is gonna need a dancefloor and a lightshow. And some X. Otherwise, a Monday night in the middle of nowheresville is neither the time nor the place.
It took several attempts for me to reach Daddy Pickles on the phone today. First, I had missed him by 5 minutes after he had departed for some afternoon drinking (the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree) at the VFW. Later, when nobody answered the phone at home, I'm guessing it was nap time (like father like son). Unfortunately, my gift hadn't arrived yet, because I was so late in ordering it. He doesn't care, but I feel like crap when this happens because he deserves better.
One time when Daddy Pickles came out to visit me here (it was just me and him), before he left at the crack of dawn to drive back to Texas, he left behind this handwritten note for me. I've kept it, and been meaning to get it framed. In honor of my father, and of all the great fathers out there, I thought I'd share...
"I've enjoyed the visit. It's always a pleasure to be here and to be around you. You, your sister and your mother are the best things that have happened to me in a lifetime of good things. I've been a part of raising two amazing and well adjusted children. I'm proud. Always remember your father loves your very much. Your Daddy."
And a special shout-out to Brad Bagby and my godchildren, and to Wipey and Char & Mar! Happy Father's Day, sluts!
Not just as a reaction, but if more highways around our country were named after Abraham Joshua Heschel, we'd all be better off. Literally, one of the greatest minds of the 20th Century. I wish more Americans knew more about him. In The Sabbath, his idea "that Judaism is a religion of time, not space, and that the Sabbath symbolizes the sanctification of time" totally blew my mind, and changed the way I thought about religion.
a.k.a., K-Fiel's Birthday!
Last night, several of us at the office took the new guy out for drinks. I had to be at work early this morning because of the big move. Dozens of trips up and down the stairs, furniture rearranging, and unpacking. On top of that, today was the last day of classes for the 1st Summer session, and we had our International Potluck Luncheon, at which I gorged on kasha, gallo pinto, baklava, arroz con leche, etc. And it was hot as hell all day long. Altogether, this has made for one exhausting day. Sweet Pickles needs a nap!
Brad Bagby sent me this. JustJess, do you think your costume-making skills could handle outfitting our group with the pants?
time for Sweet Pickles to move to another office. I started packing earlier today (and am still going at it). Initially, I was excited about the idea. But my move on Friday will be to my third office in the less than three years since starting this job. And although it will be nice to have a window again, Sweet Pickles ain't moving on up like George and Weezie. We'll be using the elementary school desks already up there that are being left by the current tenants. Since January 2007, I have gone from having my own office, to sharing that office with another person, to my current office which I share with two other people, and now to a new office that I'll be sharing with four other people. I really like all of my new 'roomates' at the capsule hotel where we'll be officing, but I'm going to miss JustJess terribly. I don't know what I'm going to do without our daily coffee with routine. We've had the perfect system going with my little coffee maker... I always 'water up' (i.e., go rinse and fill up the carafe) while she 'powders up' (i.e., puts a filter in and fills it with the coffee), and then we split the pot between us. But I guess I should try to keep it posi. At least I'll be a little further removed from the daily pandemonium. Plus, if it ends up being awful, I just have to wait until next June, when I'm sure I'll be moving again. I'm guessing that the 10 of us (me, the other five full-time instructors, and all four of the graduate instructors) will most likely be relocated into the janitor's closet tucked beneath the stairwell. Hopefully, by this time next week I should be all settled in an unpacked. I'll post my office hours cubby-hole hours soon, so stop by for a cup of coffee (but you'll probably have to sit on my lap while we chat).
When people's second toes are shorter than their big toes and middle toes (like I just saw waiting in line at the cash register at the gas station). It doesn't appeal. And I shouldn't even have to be seeing that weird shite in the first place if people would just learn Sweet Pickles' Universal Truth #291... Sandals ain't mentioned in the Declaration of Independence for a reason: Not all feet are created equal.
I suspect that this problem stems from the fact that a lot of people must have no idea that they have got ugly feet. I'm thinking of starting a new policy, in which I point out to violators, "God DAMN, your feet are fecked UP. You need to keep that nasty shite to your self!" Then, I bet people would think twice about leaving the house with their second toes shorter than their other toes.
At work, all instructors were recently videotaped during one of their lectures (for which we had to submit a written lesson plan in advance). Then, we're supposed to watch ourselves and write a self-reflection response about what we observed ourselves doing in the classroom (i.e., the good, the bad, and the fugly). The experience is cringe-inducing, but eye-opening. If those of you who teach have never tried something like this before, I recommend it (even though it's painful). Here's what I've learned so far about my teaching self:
I have an annoying voice, that makes me want to slap myself. Think of a higher-pitched, southern-fried Max Headroom.
I gesture with my hands way too much, and when explaining things, frequently default to a bizarre hand posture in which my middle and ring fingers on both hands are side by side close together but the rest of my fingers are splayed outward. If you aren't already aware of this habit of mine, remind me and I'll demonstrate it for you at happy hour sometime soon. Think of Mr. Spock filling in for Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune.
I have a certain brown shirt that makes me look even fatter than I am in real life (it just got put in the garage sale closet).
Until I catch a direct frontal view of my head, I often forget how pretty I am in the face. When I catch a sideways view of my profile, I'm surprised by how much I look like a one of those exaggerated caricature drawings you can pose for at Six Flags, or one of the 'kitchen witch' dolls whose head is carved out of an apple.
I'm very thorough (especially when it comes to review, instructions, scaffolding, and comprehension checks) but not so good at keeping on schedule. Although I don't get to cover everything I plan, the students seem to get a solid understanding of what we do cover. It just needs to be more.
I'm at least mildly amusing. Overall, I can keep the attention of a group of students, without it appearing to be too painful on my captives.
I look like I know what I'm doing. For the most part, I come across as sufficiently prepared and somewhat knowledgeable about the subject matter.
boldfaced election fraud on behalf of a clown like Ahmadinejad, or the false hope that the victory of a 'reformer' could have had any real impact on the theocracy that runs Iran. The Islamic Republic of Iran has never had real elections in any sense of the word that modern representative democracies would recognize. To have any true hope for change, Iranians should have been filling the streets well before now. The travesty of this 'election' is not its outcome, but rather its limited options (i.e., the pre-approved list of candidacies permitted by the medieval regime). The delusions under which Moussavi's supporters had been laboring were naïve, but their disillusionment and the upheaval it has caused is, nonetheless, disheartening and difficult to watch. After 30 years of this nonsense, I wonder if anyone inside Iran today would be ready to bring back Reza Pahlavi the former Crown Prince (below)? Not in the same capacity as his father (God knows the Middle East already has more than its fair share of dictators), but as a unifying symbol in a parliamentary democracy similar to the Westminster model? To me, this seems like Iran's best hope for a longterm future of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness... not the election of Moussavi or any of the other reformist candidates.
On Facebook, roving reporter M-Add recently posted the following question for a story she's working on:
"What business does [our town] need that it either currently does not have or current service is not enough?"
To which I was going to post the snarky (albeit warrented) response below. But I don't want to ruffle any feathers of townies M-Add might be linked to on FB, so I decided to post it here instead:
"In general, I feel like we're really limited in our options when it comes to chicken fingers. Four restaurants specializing in nothing but chicken fingers, a half dozen gas stations selling them, and the deli sections of three major grocery stores devoted to them just aren't cutting it anymore. If demand continues to out-pace supply, municipal government has a responsibility to step in and avert a crisis in urban planning. Distribution of resources is part of smart growth... how is it that we have a whole city department devoted to electricity, but nobody's thinking about chicken fingers? In addition, if our town is ever going to reach it's stated goal of one uninsured micro-local bank per resident, we've got a LONG way to go. With the recent openings of Jerry's Hometown Bank, Peckerwood County Savings & Loan, and La Banc de Corinthian Collums [sic], we've finally passed the 6,000 mark. But that only puts us at the halfway mark of our goal. We can't stop there. Unless we want pairs of citizens to have to double-up and use the same uninsured micro-local bank as one other person (which is just Communist) instead of having their own individual uninsured micro-local bank, then it's time to get busy opening more uninsured micro-local banks! Furthermore, no one seems to be addressing the acute shortage of condos in town. At last count, there were only 12.5 vacant condos per taxpaying resident. If we're serious about wanting to become a Wild West ghost town with abandoned buildings and tumbleweeds, then why on earth has most construction around town stopped? Just the other day, I drove by a new condo development with about 50 units completed and another 50 concrete slabs poured, but it looked like the builders had just abandoned the second half of the project because all 50 of the finished units were still unsold. What the hell kind of quitters are these builders?? With that attitude, we'll never become the city with the most empty buildings! Oh, and a few more Christian bookstores would also be nice... nobody around here is familiar at all with Jesus of Nazareth. I think more Christian bookstores might help in this outreach effort."
Right! As if you didn't know everything about Sweet Pickles already!
1. What is your current obsession? Pam on “True Blood.”
2. If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Well, I don’t really need little kid crap like x-ray vision or steel-bending strength. How about that curse the gypsy woman used in that movie “Thinner”? Would that count as a super power, even if I only used it on myself?
3. What do you see outside your window? Nothing (it’s REAL dark).
4. What's your favourite colour? Orange.
5. Your weakness? Cold beer and Dr. Pepper.
6. Which animal would you be? Kangaroo.
7. What's for dinner? Some garlic/pepper mushrooms, flavored pretzels, Peanut M&Ms, and Diet Root Beer (snacks while watching “True Blood” with friends tonight).
8. If you could learn another language, which one would you choose? Hebrew (Israeli, not Biblical).
9. What's on your bedside table? UV lamp, 2 alarm clocks (battery backup for when electricity goes out every single GD night), several chapsticks, box of Breathe-Rite strips, bottle of Maalox, bottle of Chloraseptic spray, box of Kleenex, remote control, and a stack of 19 books in various stages of being read.
10. Say something to the person who tagged you: Dayum! You are the finest MF that I have ever laid eyes on, and all I can think about is how bad I wanna get with you. [Note: I tagged myself.]
11. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere, where would it be? Tough choice… I guess if it could only be one location, it would have to be Manhattan, right? The West Village is fun, but if it’s paid for and fully furnished, I’m going Upper East Side.
12. What's your favourite children's book? ”James and the Giant Peach” (how appropriate that it’s British, huh?)
13. What's your favourite thing to do in the summer? Sunbathe.
14. What would you like to have in your hands right now? A fistful of Mexican diet pills.
15. What's your favourite tea flavour? Mint, I guess. But other than mint, I don’t really think that tea should be flavored. According to the Japanese, that shite is jado (i.e., bad form, not done).
16. What's your favourite article of clothing? Sleazy-knit hoodies and sleazy-knit track jackets.
17. What would you like to get rid of? 30 pounds.
18. If you could go anywhere in the world for an hour, where would you go? The Western Wall, Jerusalem. An hour would be perfect… I wouldn’t need more than that. Whereas some place like the British Museum or the Louvre? A single hour would be cruel torture.
19. What did you want to be as a child? I wanted to drive the snow-cone truck.
20. Do you prefer day or night? Day. Of course you know how much I love nightlife, but if I’m not having it every night, I prefer daylight (but not morning).
21. What's your plan for tomorrow? Teach at 1:00pm. Other than that, I’m open (call me!)
22. What jewelry do you wear? A wristwatch.
23. What's your favourite smell? Almond, peach, peppermint.
24. What’s your favourite flower? Iris.
but Sweet Pickles had to get on home. We're taking the students on a picnic at the lake tomorrow at 11:00am. I don't know why on a Sunday at 11:00am (don't all you Christians have to be in church around then?), but it should be nice. Hopefully I'll be able to sit in some sunshine for a while, and be back in time for a little nap before tomorrow night's season opener of True Blood.
It was looking like K-Fiel was getting as hooked on slutty vampires as the rest of us. And I think watching it with her will be big fun because she notices plot holes even more than Sweet Pickles does. Seeing some of the old episodes again only reconfirmed for me that it's all about Pam. But I had forgotten how much I liked René and Arlene, as well.
Aside from fajitas and True Blood at M-Add's, the only thing I got done today was unloading and reloading the dishwasher. I guess I can't count the load of laundry I washed as a task completed, since the clean clothes are still sitting in the dryer (and will continue to do so until I can be bothered).
M-Add and K-Fiel are having a True Blood marathon over at M-Add's house this afternoon, watching all of Season One's episodes in order to catch up before the new season kicks off and join our group of slutty vampires enthusiasts who gather at M-Em's place on Sundays to watch it on HBO together! I'm going over there later this afternoon. I'm excited about the new season because it's supposed to be set in Big D, but am a bit worried that the previews have not featured very much of Pam. I'm gonna need more Pam than I got last season!
And why the hell does she have her own 24-hour television channel? According to a Wikipedia article, she's a child who went missing sometime LAST YEAR, whose mother was indicted sometime LAST YEAR, and whose remains were discovered sometime LAST YEAR.
For months and months and months now, I haven't seen anything on CNN's Headline News that isn't about "Little Caylee." The world's in the midst of a catastrophic economic meltdown, and our country is fighting two wars abroad, but I can't find any information about that on HLN.
I can't wait to hear grown adult broadcasters code-switching between pompous legal jargon and baby talk about "poor, sweet Wittle Caywee." Quit trying to pull on heartstrings, you jackasses. Obviously, it goes without saying that the killing of a child is the most heinous of murders, and even more so when a parent is responsible. Our species recognizes this fact instinctively and viscerally, and we don't need a network dedicated to 'news' to remind us every waking moment.
CNN should start being honest with viewers by changing the channel's name (and its own name) to The Child Murders Network's Dead Babies Sideshow, because really, there's no news being broadcast here whatsoever. It's only "Little Caylee," every night. That is, until the trial is over. Then HLN's caring 'journalists' will be on to the next ratings-boosting tragedy involving another murdered child, and "Little Caylee's" name will never be mentioned again by the network that is so obsessed with milking her name at this moment.
It is gratuitous, distasteful, unethical in its profiteering, and non-stop. But CNN is only the dealer who traffics in this kind of dead-baby porn. It's the dead-baby junkies that watch this shite, and thus create the market for it, who really undermine my faith in humanity. They are sensationalizing the horrific death of a child here, people! It's reprehensible.
And here's what took my breath away... the only let-up in HLN's "Little Caylee Murderama" was a brief interlude in which Nancy Grace (the bloodsucking host of this travesty of news) displayed pictures of her own twins Lucy and John David (excuse me, Little Lucy and Little John David) doing adorable things, with sentimental music playing while the proud mom narrated the high jinks of her two little rascals. I was dumbstruck. While I imagine that Vampira Ms. Grace would defend her motivations as being those of a mother herself who wants to see that justice is done in the case of "Little Caylee," it came off as callous... a woman whose career appears to benefit indirectly from the continued perpetrations of gruesome crimes against other people's children showing off her own.
In addition to changing its name, I also think that CNN should commit to airing a one-hour "Remembering Little Caylee" memorial special on the anniversary of her death, every year until the child would probably have died of natural causes had she not been killed (let's say 2087). And if, in the year 2061 or 2079, annoyed viewers might ask "Who is Little Caylee, and why does she get a one-hour special every year," then you will have to tell them: "Little Caylee's tragic death was the most important news story of 2008 (and 2009). The world was a very different place before the events of her death. No child had ever been murdered before that, and none have ever been murdered since. What happened to her altered the course of human history on this planet. When you think of the year 2008, Little Caylee is the single most important historic event to remember. Nothing even remotely as significant happened that year." Otherwise, you'll have to tell them the truth... that your network devoted tens of thousands of hours of 'news' coverage to sensationalize the sad death of a child.
But even if Sweet Pickles were still alive in 2061 or 2079 or 2087 (I'm assuming that Ms. Grace, however, will be), he wouldn't be seeing any of the annual "Remembering Little Caylee" specials, because he's taking HLN off the "Favorites Channels" listing on his remote control. Right now. And forever.
Well, I finished class at 3:00pm, but have been trapped in the office by a flash flood. Surprise, surprise! (Have I ever mentioned how much it rains up in this biotch?)
For lunch today, I went over to the cafeteria on campus (where I have a faculty/staff meal plan). There were hordes of junior high school students (here for a summer basketball camp) trampling through the place. I could hear the roar before opening the door to the building. So, I got a to-go box and loaded it up at the salad bar, because I could feel blood vessels in my eyeballs starting to throb. It was like the 7th level of Hell. Seriously, as good a deal as the price of the faculty/staff meal plan is, I don't know if I'm going to renew mine. Half the time I can't even access the damn food because of weird seasonal operating hours or bus-loads of school children.
My class started off fun. For pre-reading activities and cultural cues, we watched some stuff on Youtube, including: The Partridge Family, The Donny and Marie Show, The Brady Bunch, and Madonna videos (the students DJ'ed... I let them choose which videos we should watch). They were totally getting into it, before the wireless internet in our building stopped working again (unrelated to the later flash flood). Welcome to the Magnolia State!
Tonight, everyone's going to see a local film about some kind of Cajun werewolf that I just can't get horned up about. I've tried. I watched the trailer, but it only reinforced my initial reaction ("Uh, no."). Firsta all, I've never liked monster movies, so I can't imagine a tongue-in-cheek parody of a monster movie really doing it for me. Seconda all, I just don't like townie stuff. I wish I did. I'm sure I'd meet lots of interesting new people if I did. I know, I know... but I just can't.
Even if there was something fun (i.e., boozy) going on tonight, I still couldn't go because I am so broke. After not getting a paycheck for the second half of May (the downside of 9-month contracts), my wallet is hurtin'! This weekend is not off to a very promising start!
is apparently available on DVD now, because I see it advertised during every commercial break on television. I couldn't find an embeddable trailer for Fired Up, which is probably just as well because the trailer alone is enough to make my ass hurt. But if you're in need of an emetic, you can find the trailer for this 'triple threat' ("Funny, Sexy, and Smart!" SMART? For reals?? Wouldn't "profound" or "epic" or "a cinematic tour de force" be less of a stretch for this movie's marketers?) on Youtube. In an internet age when teenagers can easily access material a hell of a lot more sexified than this bowl full of shite, exactly who is the target audience for this? I mean, why would anyone pay to see this, no matter how young or stupid you are? Whose the bigger threat to the Darwinian survival of Western civilization, al-Qaeda or the producers of this travesty of youth entertainment? Neither. It's the strap-ons willing to pay money to watch it. Fired Up proves Sweet Pickles' old adage true... "People are DUMB, y'all."
This morning, I met K-Fiel at the gym on campus for an hour, and THEN at the end of the day, met K-Fiel and T-War at the park to walk around the lake! If Sweet Pickles can keep this up, maybe some day, someone special will finally say to him those three magic words everyone longs to hear... "You're too thin."
I realize this may be difficult to believe, but it has been a long time since Sweet Pickles was actually drunk. It has been ages since I last drank the hard stuff, and hot DAMN, am I out of practice! I was so gung-ho about not drinking beer that I ran out and bought a bottle of vanilla vodka to mix with diet root beer for A-Rey's cumpleaños party last night. BIG difference from my usual beery marys. In theory, I remembered vaguely the danger of VV+RB, but it had been a while. One minute, you're cheerful and delighted with how delicious the combo is. The next minute, you've finished the bottle. After an extremely brief interlude of balls-out party mode, it's catatonia. And I was the driver! Thankfully, M-Add was able to get K-Fiel and T-War and Bernie Lomax (me) home. If vodka is going to be part of my weight loss plan, it sure as hell can't be of the vanilla variety! Or the sweet tea variety either, now that I think about it.
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