Why not delicately probe the schizoid Q of a committed readership for friend's blogs.
Its Memorial Day. What are we memorializing? I don't actually know, but isn't it related to all our wars and struggles "as a nation"? Paired with Veterans Day for the soldiers, this is that holiday? I don't know; its a day off. There's a sadness in the very emptiness of the exercise, but practically, there is so much attention to jobs and careers that the feeling of gratefulness to have a day-off is immense. As is the selfishness, the vacation-minded mentality - no? Something very American about the festivities revolving round couple, family, friends, individual pursuits, not the community. But then Melissa went down to Carneval yesterday, so she could give us the skinny on how this weekend becomes a knotty and naughty social experience. So a bow to those killed and fucked-over from Manifest Destiny, the Eisenhower Freeway System, the transcontinental railroad, Iraqi Freedom, and the Brits who tried to get us to pay our taxes without representation, rebels both North and South (and West), and the anarchists who marched through Chicago in the 1880s, the IWW organizing the Colorado miners and the Massie seamstresses, the Communist rallies in Manhattan in the 30s, the American Indian occupation of Alcatraz, Cesar Chavez making my Grandaddy pay fair wages to his Mexicano fieldhands (sez he did all long), all the artists fleeing to Europe, Stonewall, the Abraham Lincoln Brigade in Spain, and all others who raised their voice to oppose a vision of empire that leaves no room for creativity, possibility, difference, and dissent. And to all the conflicted souls, from George Washington and Thomas Jefferson on down, who wrought freedom with one hand, and tyranny with another. Our freedom, and our lack of it, has been born out of the blood of millions... in every corner of every life. History. Learn it, muthafuckas.
And, if you're like me, don't drink too many Lynchbrug Lemonades in the afternoon sun, it'll wipe you the fuck out and you'll end up going to bed at 9:30.
Another comment I've come across was a friend's feeling put-upon by all these blogs out there, having so many to read, feeling obligated. I think this is a vital practice for us, so here is my disclaimer: come here when you want to, as you want to. Its a public space, a 24/hr meeting spot. AND if you are a friend of mine, if we know each other well, let me know what you think of it. I am ever curious, and sometimes bored (and obvious). Plus I sleep a good 7-9 hours a night (more when I crash at 9:30). I feel the same pressure to visit regularly, faithfully. But I am not a faithful person, nor a regular one in most things. I'm a fairly good friend, but a miserable farmer. Actually, my tomatoes aren't bad. Come, go, be good cyber nomads, if you're around, stop in, there's always food.
Now how homey is that? It could be the Hank Williams, it could: "i'm the same ol trouble that you always been through / so why don't you love me like you used to do?" Hank ended up a morphine addict, how many of you cowpoets knew that?
posted by Kyle at 2:48 PM
2 Comments:
my carneval report: I couldn't find a cup of coffee so I had a margarita instead. then I danced in the street to 70s funk.
I'm hoping that I wasn't the friend that felt put-upon. I remember vaguely having a conversation about the plethora of them, & my inability to not spend lots of time reading them rather than say, rewrite my resume but I hope it was not me that gave that impression. I'm utterly taken in my them.
was it you that I was having this conversation with--that silliman sleeps like 3-4 hours a night, getting up at 3 or 4am to work on his blog & so forth. in this conversation (I'm thinking now it was with brent), I was thinking of how anne sleeps very little & was constantly pounding do more! read more! chant more! into our little sleepy heads that apparently need more sleep than some of our, dare I say, elders. the other day I slept 11 hours & it was beeeuuuuuuuuutiful. a thing of magnificence. however, I am a late to bed, late to rise kinda gal, none of this 9:30 crap. however, if I needed less sleep think of all the things I could do & write & read. too bad all my friends would be busy in dreamland...
cant we just drink a bit and blame someone else? Don’t know, but when I was in China( know you heard this before), in 2000, they had tanks and all the goodies going down the street. just be thankful that all you got are drunks. Korea is trying to “purify” the language. how would that sound in the USA?
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