justice, solidarity, participation

via Dean's Corner and the Utoya AUF website

Curious about the political beliefs of the campers who were massacred in Norway this week?

Our core values are:

Freedom for all people.
Justice in a society where everyone has equal opportunities.
Solidarity in a society where people take responsibility for each other.
Participation in a society where everyone is involved in creating the future.
Respect for nature and a society in harmony with nature's carrying capacity.

In other words, these brave young people are what the world currently likes to eat for dinner.

Can we change that, please?

in praise of so-called brats and their parents

Last Thursday my littlest son screeched at me in the grocery store for the very first time.

We were over in the bulk foods section. He'd just found out that he wouldn't be able to have a cookie as soon as he'd hoped, since the little sack of goodies we'd picked out would need to be weighed up at the checkout stand. He's two and a half years old. He took a deep breath, turned a funny shade of purple, opened his mouth and...

^_~

(It was possibly the loudest, most piercing scream I've ever heard in a grocery store.)

I was a bit taken aback, of course. And the angry stares of passers-by didn't help matters. Ouch. Just trying to do something nice for my kid and suddenly I'm getting looked at like I'm a miscreant.

But you know what else?

I was also very happy.

Why?

Because my baby isn't afraid of me. He's not in the slightest bit hesitant to tell everybody what he wants or how he feels.

To him, this was a seriously dire situation. (No cookies when I want them?! Even though I am very tired and it feels like it should be lunchtime and we have been out of the house for much longer than usual?! I need my mommy to hug me, STAT!) So I pulled the cart over out of the way and I picked him up and snuggled and rocked him... and that was all he really needed.

I hope he keeps that spark. I hope he always knows that, no matter what, his feelings are legitimate. I hope he always has someone who he knows will listen to him without judgment and try to help him feel better. I hope he always insists on being heard, never shushed.

I mean... yeah, of course I hope he also learns to reel in the intensity a tad and watch out for other people's needs, too. And I'll do my best in the future to avoid recreating the precursors that led to that awful scream (too many errands on a day when he hadn't slept well, buying treats that require weighing when I already knew he's not too keen on delayed gratification).

But, still, I'm glad that he's comfortable enough to be spunky. I'm happy he insists on help when he needs it. And I'm relieved that he has faith in me to provide that comfort and help.

It's not about the cookie. It's never about the cookie.

It's about "Mommy, Daddy... I hurt. Do you love me? Are you there for me?"

Yes. I do. I am.

Every day.

<3


---

I'm aware, btw, that screaming in the store is hardly a reliable indicator that a child feels comfortable and well taken care of. 

In my experience, some better (but not perfect) indicators of a good home environment and strong, healthy attachment would be: 1) the child's tantrum/complaint is focused on a specific, immediate stressor or desired outcome, 2) the caretaker responds immediately and with compassion, and 3) the child is easily consoled by a caretaker's expression of empathy. 

Children who have been through a lot of crap, on the other hand, tend to be in the habit of either shutting down and rarely protesting much of anything no matter how stressed (this is the outcome that authoritarian parenting is meant to bring about) ...or else they are bubbling over with noise and nervous energy, expressing discontent in a frenetic, unfocused, and generally inconsolable way. In the latter case, parental response in the moment can be shitty or stellar and--insofar as the immediate outcome is concerned--it doesn't make a bit of difference, because the child's wounds are not confined to the present moment and no amount of empathy over the cookie is going to make up for the real, underlying issue instantaneously.

Also--yes, I appear to be tooting my own horn a bit here. I'm admittedly proud of how hard I have worked at becoming a better parent. The audacity, right? ^_^

why I kind of hate it when people ask about my time living abroad

All you need to know about my "Other Country" is that it's like every poor country out there. And a little bit like the rich ones, too.

The US consulate warns you that robbery and rape are endemic. The unemployment rate is several times higher than the highest number that the governing officials are willing to report to the outside world. You will come closer to freshly murdered corpses than you've ever come before. Trash litters the roads and streams. Some first world nation will come in and try to strip mine the fuck out of some impoverished backwater province, while old men chain themselves across the road and stare at the oncoming trucks. Graffiti depicts Uncle Sam as the grim reaper; he has a scythe and a star-spangled hat.

Jobless city men strut and swagger and hit. Sometimes with fists, sometimes with bullets. Young country women tie their babies to the kitchen table and leave them there while they go out and work the fields. People sing and dance and drink as if their lives depended on it. The citizens are absurdly patriotic. And they believe in God--often the God of Abraham and Isaac--but God's clearly not powerful enough to fix anything of consequence, so--for good measure--they send up their prayers on superstitious wings of fairydust, colored smoke, and voodoo magic.

And you know what else?

Fuck you.

Fuck you for needing me to come back and tell you that all I saw were hard-working farmers with fat, rosy-cheeked, adorable black-eyed babies.

Fuck you and your gaily painted houses and your quaint, cobblestoned remnants of colonialism.

Fuck your edgy, uber-privileged hipster spring break, combing through the markets for funny t-shirts exported from America, keepin' it real, eating a fresh mango on a pier, banging the sons and daughters of local lawyers who troll the posh bars you think are very fucking rustic.

I saw your long-suffering-but-cheerful farmers. I went to the folk dances and the ancient rituals and the fundamentalist revivals. I dipped traditional flatbread in traditional sauces cooked in traditional stoneware over traditional fire pits. I saw those people you call "inspiring"--you know, the ones who pick up the shambles of their fucked up lives and try to make the best of things, just like everybody else who ever lived.

And I saw dead babies. Abandoned babies. Drug babies. Mutilated babies. Babies with AIDS. Babies shot in the back. Sex slaves with missing teeth. Seamstresses afraid to go back to the clothing factories because their coworkers keep ending up raped and headless in the ditches out back. A gang shooting. An eight year old trying to sweet-talk an old woman out of her wallet and then kicking her in the shin when it didn't go over well. Another eight year old mugged for his mother's grocery money. I saw drug lords rolling by in their dark cars with dark windows, and I saw young men hide and cry in despair at being unable to deliver whatever it was those drug lords wanted. I saw faithful people throw their last coins in the collection bag at church. I saw a bus driver say "fuck this shit" and overturn a load of innocent passengers down a mountainside. I saw people running orphanages for the sole purpose of siphoning off donations to use on hookers and cars, handing off the kids to child molesters and not giving a rip. I saw swindling and beatings and flat, dead apathy. I had the shit beaten out of me by a man who had ghosts in his eyes.

And I saw people fighting back, spinning tales of hope and growth and revelation. Good on them, I guess. I can't spin very well. Not for very long. They keep trying to teach me and it never sticks.

But you don't really want to know about any of that, do you?

You want to know if the pork buns were good.

Best fucking pork buns I ever had.

we're human

http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2011/07/manning-lamo-logs

---

(03:10:32 PM) bradass87: at first glance… it was just a bunch of guys getting shot up by a helicopter… no big deal… about two dozen more where that came from right… but something struck me as odd with the van thing… and also the fact it was being stored in a JAG officer’s directory… so i looked into it… eventually tracked down the date, and then the exact GPS co-ord… and i was like… ok, so thats what happened… cool… then i went to the regular internet… and it was still on my mind… so i typed into goog… the date, and the location… and then i see this http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/13/world/middleeast/13iraq.html

(03:11:07 PM) bradass87: i kept that in my mind for weeks… probably a month and a half… before i forwarded it to them

(03:11:54 PM) bradass87: then there was the Finkel book

(03:12:16 PM) bradass87: im almost certain he had a copy

(03:12:16 PM) info@adrianlamo.com <AUTO-REPLY>: I’m not here right now

(03:13:31 PM) bradass87: it was unreal… i mean, i’ve identified bodies before… its rare to do so, but usually its just some nobody

(03:13:48 PM) bradass87: it humanized the whole thing… re-sensitized me

(03:15:38 PM) bradass87: i dont know… im just, weird i guess

(03:15:49 PM) bradass87: i cant separate myself from others

(03:16:12 PM) bradass87: i feel connected to everybody… like they were distant family

(03:16:24 PM) bradass87: i… care?

(03:17:27 PM) bradass87: http://www.kxol.com.au/images/pale_blue_dot.jpg <– sums it up for me

(03:18:17 PM) bradass87: i probably shouldn’t have read sagan, feynman, and so many intellectual authors last summer…

(03:21:11 PM) bradass87: >sigh<

(03:22:14 PM) info@adrianlamo.com: i get that

(03:22:45 PM) bradass87: get what… that connection?

(03:23:38 PM) info@adrianlamo.com: yeah.

(03:24:08 PM) info@adrianlamo.com: which is why i’m sad for the people i sometimes have to hurt.

(03:24:10 PM) bradass87: we’re human… and we’re killing ourselves… and no-one seems to see that… and it bothers me

(03:24:26 PM) bradass87: apathy

(03:25:28 PM) bradass87: apathy is far worse than the active participation

(03:26:23 PM) bradass87: >hug<

(03:29:31 PM) bradass87: http://vimeo.com/5081720 Elie Wiesel summed it up pretty well for me… though his story is much much more important that mine

(03:29:48 PM) bradass87: *than

(03:31:33 PM) bradass87: I prefer a painful truth over any blissful fantasy.

(03:31:48 PM) bradass87: s/a/the

(03:32:05 PM) info@adrianlamo.com: *hugback*

(03:34:16 PM) bradass87: :*

(03:35:44 PM) bradass87: i think ive been traumatized too much by reality, to care about consequences of shattering the fantasy

(03:36:18 PM) bradass87: im not brave, im weak

(03:39:00 PM) info@adrianlamo.com: sometimes they’re the same thing

---

Can I light a candle in solidarity without committing treason?

Breanna Manning or Bradley Manning--whomever you want to be--you are brave and you are strong. Thank you for caring. <3

Links - July 13, 2011

What does phoenix wright down do?

Radiolab presents: Symmetry

"This striking Radiolab video made by Everynone was inspired by Radiolab's Desperately Seeking Symmetry episode. Filmmakers Will Hoffman, Daniel Mercadante, and Julius Metoyer III play with our yearning for balance, and reveal how beautiful imperfect matches can be."

SMBC: In the Future, Everything is Games

"WOOH! Headshot!"

The Great Wall of Vagina

"One is able to stare without shame but in wonder and amazement at this exposé of human variety. For the first time for many women they will be able to see their own genitals in relation to other women's. In doing so they may dispel many misconceptions they may have been carrying about what women look like 'down there'. The sculpture is serene and intricate and it works on many levels."

Check out the interviews with the artist, too. I admire the way he answered when asked about his own sexual preferences. I agree with him 100%. 

Consciously Parenting: Phoenix Rising from the Ashes

"The first time I ever heard about the Phoenix rising from the ashes was in reading the Harry Potter series. I was captivated by the idea that out of something that seemed horrible and final was the potential for a rebirth and renewal. I realized that some of the experiences in my life that have seemed the darkest have given me the opportunity to rise up anew and embrace life in a deeper way. Death by fire isn't pleasant, but it has a way of distilling everything down to its elements in a way nothing else could."

Dear Sugar: The Obliterated Place

"You have the power to withstand this sorrow. We all do, though we all claim not to. We say, “I couldn’t go on,” instead of saying we hope we won’t have to. That’s what you’re saying in your letter to me, Living Dead Dad. You’ve made it so fucking long without your sweet boy and now you can’t take it anymore. But you can. You must."

this week's oft-repeated song

You know the one. The song you just play over and over? This is mine, this week.

Nobody seems to know the official lyrics, so the lyrics below are just my best guess/compromise based on other people's varied interpretations.

Use your intuition

It's all you've got

Keys are rare

And there's a dozen locks

Standing in your way

So goes the gold age

Of your tired life

Digging for a way

You cast a spell

Carve a path from all the things they sell

But they don't let go

Just thought you should know

Keys are rare

I know what I know

Would not fill a thimble

So let your mind go (let my mind go)

Straight down the runway

Does one want to

Get more used to

The mall and misery? (the mall and the misery)

The debt mounts

It costs to be alive

Oh she lies half burning

From the biting cold

If only to learn

What you've never been told

There's a real world

And somewhere a good girl

Lives and breathes

Part of her up in the callow mind

Ideas stolen in the morning tide

There's a dark time

This is your dark rhyme

Feel your heart

I know what I know

Would not fill a thimble

So let your mind go (let my mind go)

Straight down the runway

Does one want to

Get more used to

The mall and misery? (the mall and the misery)

The dead mouths

It costs to be alive

-----

The lyrics seem sad, written out like that.

I don't take the song as a sad song, though. When I listen to it, I feel excited and hopeful for the future. 

I've had my ear to the earth for the past few years, just listening. It was simply my time to be quiet, to stop production and just "go to the mountain" so to speak.

So much of what I heard was frightening. I have sometimes been very sick with that fear. And other times, sicker still.

Then something started to change. I heard something else, underneath all that raucous, selfish tantruming. A different sort of sound entirely.

I feel like--maybe, just maybe-- we're approaching the crescendo of some kind of quiet, worldwide metamorphosis. There is an increasing refusal to be content with shallow explanations for everything. More and more people are catching a glimpse of the strands that intertwine all over the place, forming webs of cause and effect more complex than any of our outdated religious or behavioral systems could account for (and I mean nothing mystical here, not in the slightest). Not everybody is feeling it. But some are... and I believe that this mild, patient, haunted minority is right now shaping the future of humanity into something more beautiful than it otherwise would have been.

The collective mind of our planet's most observant beings has decided to fight. Not with bombs and swords, but with the expression of our new values, through our art, our words, our deeds. Through these avenues, we will lead the way. And we will steer this ship with such a light hand, the partygoers deep within its hull will hardly notice the change of direction. It has already begun.

Or maybe it's just my own private transition I am witnessing, and nothing so big as all that.

Either way, that's ok. I'm ready now.

a question to the world

Is Treasure Planet possibly the most tragically underrated Disney film ever?

(I think so.)

This fanvid got added to my "stuff I like" list today, but I'm also going to highlight it here. <3



The part where Jim's dad treats him like shit and then abandons the family always gets me (1:30-2:10 above). That probably hits a lot of people close to home, hmm? Especially in my generation. I was 20 the first time I saw this movie and I was still trying very hard to be the sort of person who's tough to crack but--oh!--I had to wipe my face with my sleeves.

This movie is frequently described as a "story about a boy becoming a man." It's not, though. To call it that is to erase the experiences of all the millions of women and girls who would identify with Jim, who feel all of these things in just the same way. Don't do that to us... it is killing us to be forever relegated to passive roles.

So...

I think Treasure Planet is a story about being born a human and learning to live in a broken world. It's about getting slapped around by the slings and arrows of harsh reality before you've even got your bearings, and somehow figuring out a way to pull through it all, 'til one day you find in yourself a font of strength and sensitivity you never knew you were capable of producing.

---

As a side note, I thought it was really interesting to see that Ariel/Jim is a major shipping theme on the internets.

Poor Ariel never really got the chance to discover what Jim did, did she? I mean, she got her boyfriend to stab a bitch through the belly with the tip of a broken boat in the name of love a hot summer crush... but that's not remotely on the same level as the autonomy, transcendence, and connection that Jim found.

I think they both come from very similar emotional background, though...

Yeah, I would totally set them up on a date if I were the trans-dimensional matchmaker of the Kingdom Hearts universe. ^_^

As for Prince Eric? Oh, I don't know. Charlotte La Bouff?

every you and every me

via CrimethInc

---

update - Sept 5, 2011:
There's a neat post along these lines up at No, Seriously, What About Teh Menz today.

(Beware the comment section on older posts on that blog, btw. Despite the high quality and measured tone of most of the main articles, the site frequently attracts commenters of the worst variety. It looks like moderation is improving though, thankfully.)