Chief Justice Rehnquist Dies at His Home

oh fuck!
shit!
aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

I mean, it's not like I didn't think Rehnquist would leave the Supreme Court while Bush was still in office. it's just that I was hoping it wouldn't happen until after the Democrats in D.C. grew some cojones and would actually challenge the next nominee ('cuz Buddha knows they won't be saying boo about Roberts. who, by the way, is rabidly anti-choice, no matter what CNN & Fox News say) rumor is that Bush won't elevate one of the existing Supreme Court justices to Chief Justice. instead he'll appoint someone else who is not already on the court.

get ready for the culture wars, grrls!

you know you're a masochist when...

so, this undergrad degree thing. what the hell was I thinking? sure, I like a challenge, like 'em more than the average bear I'd say. but after spending the past 4 hours reading a book on "Servant Leadership" that is some of the most arrogant idiotic drivel I've ever read (and believe me, I've read a lot of books in my time), I'm wondering if I've taken on an actual challenge or if I just really like the feeling of smashing my own head into concrete.

Regis has a program specifically for adult learners. but nope, I wanted to be in the traditional college. with kids what are young enough to be my kids. I'm 7 years younger than one of my professors, and I'm actually older than another. I felt that most of the folks who go to "adult college" are there mainly because they need to have the degree in order to progress in their careers. I wanted to be with folks who were really jazzed about being in school. plus, I was hoping to meet one of two people who would want to do a little culture jamming.

I'm really unused to the concept of sitting down and keeping quiet. two decades of being an activist will do that to a grrl. but there are sooo many generational differences between my classmates & me that I find myself thinking, "Is this the topic I want to challenge, or do I want to wait to see what happens in the next five minutes?" 'cuz you know that when the mid-thirties hippie-radical-feminist-activist-with-armpit-hair raises her hand, it's not going to be to say what somebody else was thinking. it just isn't.

but, what goes on in my brain doesn't get much company anyway. so, really, how different is this school thing? my friend Micky is going through the same deal. she's a first year law student at University of Denver (not a school known for it's progressive politics), and she's going to be a civil rights lawyer (but she's really smart -- not only is she actually getting a graduate degree [unlike yours truly], but she's on full scholarship, so she won't be in debt forever [unlike yours truly]. told ya she was smart ;~)

anyway, Micky & I were talking today about, essentially, being round fish in a square pond. micky's an awesome third-wave feminist, a Buddhist, and a progressive activist. I tell you, if you're going to do something as wacky as get a 2nd bachelor's degree with students half your age, it really helps to know someone doing something even harder than you are to give some perspective. and to tell you that you won't be reinforcing the hairy radical dyke feminist stereotype for those 19-year-olds in your Women's Studies class by speaking up about what it was like to fight tooth & nail to wear pants. PANTS, FER CRISSAKE! I'm not talking about some wack stripper outfit. I mean like your normal Levi's, with two legs and a zipper in the middle. (one of my high school teachers insisted that all the girls cross our legs. he'd take points off if we didn't.) it's hard to relate to young women who've grown up without having their gender be that big of an issue. I guess that's why so few of them identify as feminists. it scares me, though. political apathy is one of the biggest hurdles we activists face. can we defend Roe v. Wade when so many of today's generation don't understand how recent and tenuous our steps toward equality are? I've been alive longer than American women have had legal access to abortion! and I'm only 35 years old!

so, this weekend, I'm slogging through all of this reading by authors who wrote things like, "My good society will have strong individualism amid community. It will have elitism along with populism." [Servant Leadership, Robert K. Greenleaf, pg. 26] the author thinks that society should have elitism? what kind of privileged white male classist bullshit is THAT????!! the professor can't shut up about how great this book is. can you say "scary" ? it's my own fault though. it said right on the professor blurb that he's in the Business Department. (damn linear-thinking pro-capitalists). hmmm, when do you think the best time would be to tell him than I'm a proud working-class anarchist who got arrested at the WTO protest in Seattle? ;~)

But, there is a reason, a larger goal, for all this struggle & strife. so, come tuesday, you can find me in the front row of all my classes, challenging my professors, my fellow students, and, most of all, myself. after all, stepping out of one's comfort zone is the only way to learn, right? and, of course, when I walk into my Peace & Justice class with eight other really awesome progressive thinkers and one of the most wonderful professors I've ever met, everything else I have to do is totally worth it.

peace,
tigger grrl

we didn't bomb Iraq because of oil...

...no, it's because Saddam Hussein was bad.

riiiiiight! wait, didn't we, like, give him weapons in the 1980s?

this is the most intellegent response to Hummers I've seen. check out the website -- there are over 2000 photos of people flipping off H2s! sweet!

I still get the urge to key them. or at least write on them in Sharpie. well, okay, I haven't actually done that. although I really really really want to. but, damn this morality thing, I just can't do that anymore. I mean, shit, 15 years ago I had no problem breaking...hmm, I'm not sure I want to be self-incriminating here. jail is bad, n'kay? [geesh, I must be getting old.]

but back to the Hummer thing: I tried writing notes and putting them on the windshield, but the frickin things are so big I can't even reach the windshield wipers! I can however put a sticker to their bumper. have you seen those oval sparkly ones they sell at truck stops & crappy stores like Spencer's? you know, the ones that read "Bitch" or "Brat"? yeah, those work really well. almost as obnoxious as the drivers. really hard to get off, too.

well, okay, I don't really put it on the bumper. more like the paint. :~D

if I had any money, I'd get a whole bunch of bumper stickers printed. then I'd go to a mall parking lot and stick them on Hummers, Duallys, trucks with 6-foot tires, and any car with a G.W. Bush sticker. "You Can't Be Both Pro-Life and Own This Car" and "I Could've Bought a Prius for Half the Price" There's always the good ole standby of "My Penis Is Really Really Small", but then again some of these auto-idiots are women, and I'm too much of a feminist to denigrate a woman because of her breast size (but really, that isn't very equal-opportunity of me, now is it?) How about a sticker in honor of the ridiculously large tax breaks for these things, "I'm a Corporate Welfare Mother" ?

One good thing about living in the "poor" neighborhood is that no one can afford a Hummer. even the dealers go for your standard beemer or mercedes. I have to go about 35 blocks west to see those Chevy Tahoes-on-steroids (and why is it that in every city in America the rich folks live on the west side and the poor folks live on the east side?) Instead, I see $500 shit-box pickup trucks held together with duct tape that have $1000 spinner rims, those fat low racing tires that make 'em look like Tonka trucks, and white script letters on the rear window that spell "Sanchez".

peace,

tigger grrl

Hurricane Katrina -- a response from the Buddhist Peace Fellowship

Sept 2, 2005

The Buddhist Peace Fellowship sends our heartfelt prayers and support to all who have been affected by the Hurricane Katrina.

Yesterday, BPF issued a statement on the disaster and included information on where to send donations. Since then, conditions in New Orleans have become more desperate by the moment. Your response after the tsunami in Asia last December was extremely generous. We encourage you to contribute to help those in New Orleans and other parts of the U.S. South in whatever way that you can.

Please click the link above to read BPF's full statement on the disaster, and for a list of aid organizations as well as how to offer housing to those in need.


Buddhist Peace Fellowship
e-newsletter editor

Before You Sign, Read Paragraph 9

One of the things I do is counter- recruitment. "What's that?" is a question I get a lot. At its most basic, CR is a counterpoint to the military's recuiters. But it's much much more than that. It's a movement that recognizes that the U.S.' "voluntary" military is one that is comprised disproportionately of poor kids, urban kids, rural kids, kids of color, kids who see few (or zero) other ways of achieving the "American Dream".

As a parent, one of the easiest things you should do is to sign and return your child's "Opt-Out" form by the deadline (generally the end of September). President Bush's No Child Left Behind act says that unless their parents opt-out, every high school in the U.S. MUST turn over the contact information for all students of junior or senior standing to the military. The military will then harass your child, (really, it is harassment) with telephone calls and home visits, until he or she signs on the dotted line. Military recruiters are the first used-car salesmen most of your kids will ever encounter. They say whatever they need to. They'll even put it "in writing" in the Enlistment Contract. Which seems like a great thing. "Hey, Mom, it's okay -- the recruiter said I'll never have to go to Iraq. I'll be stationed in Germany, and learn how to program computers." Uh-huh. Becha bottom dollar that your child's eyes will not be pointed toward the Enlistment Agreement's "Paragraph 9":

"Law and regulations that govern military personnel may change without notice to me. Such changes may affect my status, pay, allowances, benefits, and responsibilities as a member of the Armed Forces REGARDLESS of the provisions of the enlistment/reenlistment document."

if you want more infor on counter-recruitment, check out United for Peace and Justice, the American Friends Service Committee's Youth & Militarism program, or, if you are in Colorado, contact the Counter Recruitment Information Network of Denver at crin.denver@gmail.com.

peace,
tigger grrl

Bork Bork Bork!

I am a child of the 70s. I'm not sure, actually, how someone could be more a child of the 70s. I grew up on a commune. it was a 200-year-old farmhouse. with a managerie of chickens, goats and sheep. I was homeschooled. with kids named "sunshine", "kofi", and "rain". when I was old enough to name one of our many pets, I chose "carter", after the president. according to my mother, I was conceived at Woodstock. (considering I was born about nine months later, it's entirely possible.) I swear that when I was about six, I drank mushroom tea. (upon reflection, I don't think the "dream" I remember that involved an old man with the voice of Vincent Price laughing at me for pulling my eyeball out because I wanted to see the back of it was really a dream).

and, btw, those PSAs that talk about pot being a "gateway" drug -- aarrggh! my earliest memory (3 years old or so) is when my thigh was burned by ash from a joint that was passed over me. I didn't even try anything harder until I was in my 30s! kids (and parents) -- drugs that occur naturally on the planet earth are Mother Nature's way of keepin us real. just stay the fuck away from crack, meth, & all the other freaky shit that involve household cleaners and urban decay.


anyhoot, there was only one television in the large farmhouse we all lived in. it wasn't on often -- just a few hours a day -- Walter Cronkite for the adults and Seseame Street for the kids. and for the miniseries "Roots". a few times some of us kids stayed up really late and snuck into the room next to the den and peeked in on Saturday Night Live. but we'd inevitably get caught because even piling our hands over each other's mouths couldn't contain our giggles at John Belushi ("Cheeseburger! Cheeseburger! Cheeps!") or Dan Ackroyd's imitation of Julia Child ("oh look, I've cut the dickens our of my finger") . but we were allowed to claim the couches and eat popcorn in the den at 7.00pm on Wednesdays, for the coolest television show EVER -- The Muppet Show.

everybody loved kermit. I mean, how could you not? but the character that really spoke to me was the Swedish Chef. (hmm, big surprise that I work in kitchens, huh?) even today I can't hold it together when I watch those skits (yes, The Muppet Show is now available on DVD). he was a muppet head with bushy blond eyebrows on a guy wearing a white chef's coat. he would dangle his big human hands from the sleeves and dunk them in water or throw pizza dough in the air. he was a muppet doing dan ackroyd doing julia child. he said "bork bork bork" and "cheekee". sometimes, when I've been tying up poultry for the rotisserie, I imitate him. there is a part of me that wants to be him when I grow up. so, last night I was websurfing, and I found a site that has a Swedish Chef translator.

(1) someone has WAAYYYY too much free time.

(2) that SOOO frickin' cool.


bon appetite! http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/

Deenner veell be-a ruested cheeckee, esperoogoos veet Hullundeeese-a sooce-a und a lut ooff red veene-a.

peace,
tigger grrl