Woo! Scandal…
Apparently the Blogosphere push to raise $50,000 for Spirit of America has not gone untainted. Hee…
Doing It The Wiggles Way
Couldn’t resist - a bunch of my favorite bloggers have joined the Liberty Alliance in our cause to raise lots and lots of money for Spirit of America, including Chief Wiggles and Babalu Blog. Won’t you donate and help us take a gracious third place in the competition?
Spirit of America
Dean Esmay has launched the Liberty Alliance to support the voice of freedom in Iraq, and I’m proud to be part of it. We’re all about getting awareness of the good work Spirit of America has been doing with our servicemen in Iraq, and want you to help out on this end. Freedom of expression is what makes this country not just great, but possible. Whether or not you supported the overthrow of a dictator, whether or not you agree that it is in the world’s best interest to pursue and eliminate terrorists, by the law of this country you are free to express that opinion as loud and as long as you like. That’s not just an accident of birth - it’s because strong men and women worked hard to build a country where such freedom is possible.
Mother Teresa was said to have stated that we can do no great things, only small things with great love. We live in a singular state of isolated freedoms here in the U.S. and it’s easy to think that everyone around the world has the same level of personal choice available to them. Unfortunately, that’s not true. Please do what you can and donate, however small an amount, to support freedom of speech and the free flow of information in Iraq. We cannot let the tyrants and those who glory in bloodshed be the only voices the people of Iraq hear.
Never Again? Well, Hardly Ever…
By whose definition? Hat tip to Joe Katzman of Winds of Change for the link that led me to the comments. North Korea, Bosnia, Sudan… I’d rather not go on. But they put the lie to “never again” - we musn’t forget that. Ever.
Received Wisdom Anew
I’m gonna be a cut-n-paste whore here, ‘cuz I found a new blog that I’m enamored of - meet Urban Monk. Some quotey goodness I’m sharing en tout:
“A note on taking it personally -
Though everyone supposedly knows they’re going to die, few people seem to believe it. Most of us seem to live as though life is eternal, and waste it on irrelevant concerns. Years go by so quickly - I can’t believe how fast nearly 37 years of my life have gone - and even those of us who make it into old age still don’t get very long. Yet we waste so much of our time, taking everything personally, being offended by what other people say or do, getting angry or uptight over trivial annoyances, gloating over shallow victories that amount to nothing, ignoring the present moment in favor of imagined futures that might never come, or places we might never get to.
Living in such a way ensures that, as Thoreau put it, you’ll eventually die with the realization that you never actually lived. I make no claim to any particularly profound insights, but there are some things I’ve gotten from time spent facing the wall in meditation…
Nothing is about you; people say what they say or do what they do for their own reasons, not because of you.
If you have good health, shelter, enough to eat and someone who loves you, then you have as much as you’re ever going to have, and imagined futures will bring you nothing that you can’t already find in the present moment.
Since every sentient being lives on death row, it’s stupid and wasteful not to appreciate every day and every moment.”
The Urban Monk also offers us a tidbit of quotey goodness he’s found from Blood Orchid, a remarkable book by his friend Charles Bowden:
“We are an exceptional model of the human race. We no longer know how to produce food. We no longer can heal ourselves. We no longer raise our young. We have forgotten the names of the stars, fail to notice the phases of the moon. We do not know the plants and they no longer protect us. We tell ourselves we are the most powerful specimens of our kind who have ever lived. But when the lights are off we are helpless. We cannot move without traffic signals. We must attend classes in order to learn by rote numbered steps toward love or how to breast-feed our baby. We justify anything, anything at all by the need to maintain our way of life. And then we go to the doctor and tell the professionals we have no life. We have a simple test for making decisions: our way of life, which we cleverly call our standard of living, must not change except to grow yet more grand. We have a simple reality we live with each and every day: our way of life is killing us.”
Strangely perhaps, my reaction to reading this is a feeling of optimism. Are we insane if we recognize our insanity?
Misc And Sundry
I’ve now filled my gastank for the second time, and am happy to report less than a .02 mpg variance in my mileage from the first tank of gas - I’m averaging 30.6 mpg in my beautiful little MINI. Yes folks, 30.6 MILES PER GALLON. WOO!!! Lest you think I’m a bit overwrought by this, I live in California where the sun always shines and we pay through the nose for the privilege of driving around in it (try $2.40 a gallon). And my previous transport was an SUV that, while comfy and eminently practical for hauling around loads of whatever, averaged about 16 mpg. I’ve almost doubled my mileage. Again I say WOO!!!
Joe Katzman of Winds of Change has been profiled by Normblog, and I have to pass along one of his statements as words to live by:
“All the really important stuff in life is ‘come as you are’. You never know what you may be called on for, or when - which means your foundations need to be as right as you can make them.”
I’ve been busy reworking my foundations the last year-and-a-half so this statement really spoke to me - I’ve been going through the process of getting divorced from the man who used to be my best friend, selling my house, cleaning out my closets, strengthening my body and clearing my mind. I’m not done yet, but I’m happy with the direction things are going. I’ve been digging up old shit and throwing it away, breaking new ground in some places that feel strangely familiar and in some other places that scare me, relearning and reinforcing truths that I’d forgotten. And above all, I’ve been blessed with the knowledge that I am graced by the presence of those around me, those who love me and are loved by me, those who have stood fast by my side through the firestorms of the past and who will stand fast with me through whatever may come.
Life is good.
Happy Peeps Day!
All’s I gotta say about the situation in the Middle East today is that you never saw any red-blooded American strap a belt full of Peeps around his waste and blow some grandma’s blood-sugar levels all over the street… clearly, our cultural meme is superior. In case you need further persuading, here are a couple of little combat training exercises for the 21st Century, Peeps-style.
Can’t Sleep, Clowns Will Eat Me
No, it’s not the latest bumper sticker for my new car, it’s how I’m feeling… not that I wouldn’t like to sleep. In fact, I’d like to very much. Just seems like I can’t manage enough of it lately. All kinds of things in my head about that - I come from a line of people who don’t need more than 4-5 hours a night. I’m dating a guy who doesn’t need more than 5-6 hours a night. I need 6-8, depending on how much exercise I’ve been getting, how much the job has been eating my brain, how much pain I’ve been in with the knees and other crap I’ve been dealing with lately that I’ve been too grumpy to blog about (I have standards here… I believe that a good blog entry should have more than just a string of profanities in 7 different languages). If I’m writing and on a burn with it, I’ll wake up after about 6 hours all rarin’ to go and hit the keyboard, the notepad… hell, I’ll even scribble on the back flaps of a paperback if that’s all I’ve got close to the bed and pen (note to self, keep notebook next to bed for writing emergencies). I feel like a wimp. I should be able to get by on less sleep and function just fine. THEY all do it. Bastards.
*whimper*
So of late, I’m not punch-drunk, exactly. I just feel all muzzy and greyed out in my head, like a screenfull of static is playing an endless loop in my mind. Part of the exhaustion has been a new learning curve at the day job, part of it has been dealing with assorted and sundry physical stuff, and part of it has been wondering what to do next. I’m tempted to hole up in my apartment with 5 boxes of pizza, a couple liters of Coke, and my PlayStation and ignore everything, but since that would only get me even more overstimulated than I already am and would definitely not lead to restful sleep in any way, I’m thinking not. Charming an image as it is ;->
Maybe I need Provigil. Maybe I need more sleep. Maybe I need someone to protect me from the clowns in my head by beating me repeatedly over same until I pass out and thus get rest. Think I’ll get a triple latte instead. Hey, it’s a stopgap, and no post-concussion syndrome (BTDT - no thank you very much). And look ma, well-caffeinated, I’m writing! I even got a rhyme in there. Sorta.
Vanity, Thy Name Is Oscar
Carnival of the Vanities #81 is up at Leaking Pure White Noise - enjoy!