Hello from procrastination land

Maggie says:
Wow. So much random crap to amuse ourselves with online when, say, we're confronted by things like the final push of a thesis and are feeling brain-dead. I'm talking random crap like this:

Your 1920's Name is:

Margarette Tiny

What's Your 1920's Name?

And this:

You Are Changing Leaves

Pretty, but soon dead.

What Part of Fall Are You?

And this:

You Are Mexican Food

Spicy yet dependable. You pull punches, but people still love you.

What Kind of Food Are You?

And this:

What Your Underwear Says About You

You like your underwear to make you feel girlish and pretty. Let's hope you're a chick. You're a closet exhibitionist who gets a thrill from being secretly naughty.

The Underwear Oracle

And this:

Your Inner Child Is Surprised

You see many things through the eyes of a child. Meaning, you're rarely cynical or jaded. You cherish all of the details in life. Easily fascinated, you enjoy experiencing new things.

How Is Your Inner Child?

And this:

Your Life is Like

Say Anything...

What John Cusack movie are you?

And finally, before I waste too much more time, this:

Your Hair Should Be Purple

Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional. You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

You've heard of the glass ceiling, right?

Mikaela says:

Well how about a glass bottom?

Scheduled to open January 1, 2006 on the Hualapai Indian Reservation:

Grand Canyon Skywalk

• Juts 70 feet into the canyon, 4000 ft above Colorado River
• Will accommodate 120 people comfortably
• Built with more than a million pounds of steel beams, and includes dampeners that minimize the structure's vibration
• Designed to hold 72 million pounds, withstand an 8.0 magnitude earthquake 50 miles away, and withstand winds in excess of 100 mph
• The walkway has a glass bottom and sides...four inches thick

All I can say is they better also be prepared to hose it down everyday, because I can only imagine how many people will piss themselves once they work up the courage step out into nothingness. Talk about a leap of faith! Anyone gotta mop?

Take their advice: Stop not going! Immediately!

Mikaela says:
Hey, if you missed the hilarious performance from Albuquerque's own Shenoah Allen and Mark Chavez at Q-Staff Theatre last spring, you have another chance to atone for your egregious oversight and venial sin (Okay, I just made that up; I don't really know what venial sin is, but it sounds really really bad, which is what I want to convey here).

These guys took the show on the road, most notably to Chicago's Second City comedy club and got rave reviews. Don't miss them again! You'll kick yourself. (Or I will!)

Stop not Going
The Globe and Mail
Alan Hindle

Friday, September 16, 2005

Apologies to all the great comedies I've seen at the Fringe this year, but this is easily the best. The Pajama Men, Shenoah Allen and Mark Chavez, virtually paralyze the audience with laughter. Folks could be dying out there, unable to breathe between sobs of hilarity, and they would just keep going. Faster than whippets whip, these two super-clowns melt through endless layers of comedy and you have no idea how much is improvised, rehearsed or the result of a comic blackout from which the two performers will emerge hours after the show, soaked in sweat and each other's spit, wondering what happened but feeling closer to God. They kid. I kid you not.

As they say themselves: "Our teeth are sunk firmly into the ass of the future!"

Here for an encore performance are The Pajama Men, performing their dynamic-duo-half-improv-half-comedy show:

Stop Not Going.

Tricklock Theatre
(never been to Tricklock? The shame, the shame! How can you even admit that without slitting your own cultural cool-kid wrists?),
Fri. and Sat. Nov. 4 & 5, 11 & 12th.
118 Washington SE
254-8393

Also catch (all improv with all manner of sexual humor -- downright hilarious but admittedly uncomfortably frank):

"Dirty Thursday"
Nov. 10.

Tricklock Theatre

118 Washington SE
254-8393

mjae races

Mikaela says:
Horrible photos, but I'm too cheap to actually buy the prints. Inch-size proof is all I need!

(Would that that was always the case...)

Here's my sister and I finishing the Duke City 5K last Sunday. See? I'm doing more than studying! (But I do admit that this is the only exercise I've had in months, well, except more ... let's say ... recreational activities.)

m-pyrical astrology (ha!)

Mikaeala cryptically references obscure 80s films when she writes:

"Hey, my brother, may I borrow a copy of your Hay-Soul classics?"

"No, my brother, you have to go buy your own!"

(Check out your future at Planet Waves Astrology.)


(March 20-April 19)
What now unfolds is, in part, related to what others are going through and in part related to what you are experiencing. But in order not to take on what is not yours, you must remain some combination of discerning and nonjudgmental. Your primary commitment is being true to yourself, and remembering that allowing for change is one of the healthiest qualities any relationship can have. Then you will save yourself much unnecessary strife and energy. When you reassess the situation in a month, you're likely to see it through entirely different eyes, and be far more agreeable to the changes that someone close to you has been going through. What is more noteworthy is that your own process of inward seeking and questing for self-understanding will go on for considerably longer, and you'll be the one counting on the patience of someone close to you; so you would be wise to offer yours now.


(June 21-July 22)
I cannot imagine that a solar eclipse in the 4th house of home and security is a great feeling for one born under the sign Cancer, but if you're feeling stuck it may be just the medicine you need. What all of us need to remember now, particularly you, is that as brisk and unexpected as certain changes may feel, or as dramatic as the prospects may seem, protection surrounds and fills what is transpiring. You can take this message on many levels, but ultimately you will be convinced by the outcome. Therefore, spare yourself the worry and pay attention to how you feel and what you know must be done. Security comes in many forms, and the one that will suit you best at the moment is adaptability. This, you have available, and you also possess the rare human quality of initiative. So often, the world is waiting for you to take leadership, and such is true today.


(Aug. 23-Sep. 22)
You're not the type to take huge risks, and we don't need astrology to know that. You do, however, have your impetuous side, which is a good thing. At this point, an authentic degree of daring, even going beyond what you've ever known, is called for. It's clear that the fortune you are seeking is neither cash nor credit, but rather a sense of inner completion. As such, the risk is likely to be seeing or experiencing yourself entirely outside the context of your relationships, and as authentically contained within yourself. In a world where everything is defined by its opposite, this is more daring than you may imagine. In a sense, you are challenging yourself to let go entirely of the petty games of give and take with which the world preoccupies itself. You are going to know what you look like without a mirror, and more to the point, you're going to be sure that you exist.

On home

Maggie says:
After finishing two novels I didn't like, I've been craving a good, GOOD read that I could just lose myself in. Last night I decided it was high time to finish reading All the King's Men, which due to a work sidetrack I only got about ten pages into last spring before it started gathering dust.

So there I am, enjoying the crisp fall night under lots of blankets, and page 15 feels like a shock to my senses. Home. HOME. In the fall, at that. This one hit me so hard, right where it hurts, that I almost couldn't read anymore. But of course, it made me read even faster. Even though it's my favorite time of the year in New Mexico and the smell of roasting green chile will now haunt me forever, there's no place like home. The air, the green, the faces, the voices, the warmth, the kindness, the ease. North Carolina through and through.

So to my family (that's my late Grandpa Max on the family farm in the photo), and to Marjorie (who's heading to her home for the annual Yamboree next weekend), this one's for you:

"No," he said, and it was another voice, quiet and easy and coming slow and from a distance, "I'm not here to ask for anything today. I'm taking the day off, and I've come home. A man goes away from his home and it is in him to do it. He lies in strange beds in the dark, and the wind is different in the trees. He walks in the street and there are the faces in front of his eyes, but there are no names for the faces. The voices he hears are not the voices he carried away in his ears a long time back when he went away. The voices he hears are loud. They are so loud he does not hear for a long time at a stretch those voices he carried away in his ears. But there comes a minute when it is quiet and he can hear those voices he carried away in his ears a long time back. They say: come back, boy. So he comes back."

Quote of the Day

Mikaela submits a quote from Smarty-pants Einstein [is that redundant?]:

"There are two ways to live your life.
One is as if nothing is a miracle.
The other is as though everything is a miracle."

What's a real woman to do?

Mikaela says:
Having a body issue morning. Went to roll up my pants to ride my bike to work (because I'm starting to be paranoid about what all this sitting-down thesis writing and no exercise is doing to my ASS, not to mention my circulatory system) and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Picture an inverted triangle, my feet the little point, my legs the two sides, and my huge-ass hips and middle spread the "third leg."

Oh my god. I hadn't realized what a boon the bell-bottom fashion was to my growing-rapidly middle.

The picture to the left is borrowed from the funny ladies at threadbared.com.

Is she or is she not an ALIEN? I mean, I know I'm built a certain tank-girl way, but she is UNREAL. Look at those fingers! The hands! The impossibly long arms. How can she breathe with no room for lungs? How does she process food, or does she in fact eat?

The fact that she came from a pattern book and was put out there as a model means she is someone's ideal. Ideal what, exactly, I'm not sure. She is elegant, yes, in the sense that long is elegant. But ... I'm left asking the question: if that's one ideal of female beauty, am I just on the other end of the spectrum? Or am I missing something?

Oh, yeah, Did I mention I like ARCHITECTURE?

Mikaela says:

Check out this new building in Tokyo by famous architect Toyo Ito. Come on, ladies, wouldn't YOU by more shoes here? Architecture is the ultimate sales and marketing tool. Don't believe me? Check this out...

You Handsome Devil

Maggie says:
While Marjorie's talking race and Willie Wonka and Mikaela's working hard on her thesis across the table from me, I'm feeling unfocused. As usual. But really, wouldn't it be tough for you to write about organizing in ABQ when there are things like election results coming in, playoff scores to mourn, and a surprisingly good mix of music being randomly selected by your computer... all while you're trying to write? That's what I thought.

What I love about having loads of music on my laptop is that it gives me what I least expect. Like Damien Rice for starters, followed by the Buena Vista Social Club, then the Red Hot Chili Peppers, then Iron and Wine. I just heard a Smiths classic that reminds me exactly why I love the Smiths so much: not because they kept me company in adolescence (which they did), but because they make me laugh. And not a belly laugh, but a wry chuckle and smile at how damn clever they are.

So to my M-comrades who are working harder than me right now, here's one of my old faves, the Smiths' ode to being smart and lustful and juvenile and academic at the same time. A combination we should all stir around in once in a while, I'd say. Here's to just sitting in it.

You Handsome Devil
All the streets are crammed with things
eager to be held
I know what hands are for
and I'd like to help myself
you ask me the time
but I sense something more
and I would like to give you
what I think you're asking for
you handsome devil
you handsome devil

Let me get my hands
on your mammary glands
and let me get your head
on the conjugal bed
I say, I say, I say

I crack the whip
and you skip
but you deserve it
you deserve it, deserve it, deserve it

A boy in the bush
is worth two in the hand
I think I can help you get through your exams
oh you handsome devil

Let me get my hands
on your mammary glands
and let me get your head
on the conjugal bed
I say, I say, I say

I crack the whip
and you skip
but you deserve it
you deserve it, deserve it, deserve it

And when we're in your scholarly room
who will swallow whom?
and when we're in your scholarly room
who will swallow whom?
you handsome devil

Let me get my hands
on your mammary glands
and let me get your head
on the conjugal bed
I say, I say, I say

There's more to life than books you know
but not much more
oh you handsome devil

Willie, Sambo, and Childhood impressions

I came across the best critique I've seen so far on the racism in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory today...

You can read the article here:
www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?Secti..30&ItemID=8609

The author discusses the racism inherent in the story of how the Oompa Loompas come to be in the first world, not to mention the aspect of total slavery they are reduced to in the Wonka factory. It is very good, highly recommended to you all.

I did not realize that Roald Dahl changed the story in the early 1970's due to this very critique. And now Tim Burton has reverted to the original. That's an interesting little tidbit.

After reading the essay I came across a response by the author to someone telling him he was full of sh*t, that I think is equally worth sharing:

"You may find it interesting to know, that I too felt much the way you now do on the subject, not that long ago infact , maybe only 5 years or so.

"Since than I have changed my mind, or perhaps I better way of putting it would be that I have had my eyes and ears opened to the ways in which subtle racism seeps into all our minds from a very young age. I think, therefore, it is helpful to try to find out where some of these notions come from.

"It is the fact that Willy Wonka is a whimsical and seemingly harmless story that I find most unsettling. It is precisely these types of tales for children that begin to shape our impressions of other peoples and cultures and races. At this delicate and impressionable young age we start to pick up the subtle ways in which others are portrayed. Not just in book but in music, on TV and in the movies.

"Later in life when we see or hear about a person from India, Indonesia or Iraq we have in our minds a sort of mental picture of what people from that part of the world are like. Sadly because of this many Americans wrong imagine them as violent or backwards or savage or simply lesser than us in some way.

"I am not saying that Willy Wonka is the only film or book that helps give us these impression; I am only using it as an example."

He goes on to say that he isn't advocating a boycott of the movie, just that we should approach it critically.

I think a similar perspective can be taken when considering Sambo. Having grown up loving both Sambo and Willie Wonka, it's sad for me in some ways that I have to think of them through a new lense--a more realistic and moral lense. But, as an adult that's what I have to do.

Because this story from my childhood comes up when I think about cast-iron skillets...

The Story of Little Black Sambo BY HELLEN BANNERMAN
Once upon a time there was a little black boy, and his name was Little Black Sambo.	And his mother was called Black Mumbo.	And his father was called Black Jumbo.
And Black Mumbo made him a beautiful little Red Coat,	and a pair of beautiful little blue trousers.	And Black Jumbo went to the Bazaar, and bought him a beautiful Green Umbrella, and a lovely little Pair of Purple Shoes with Crimson Soles and Crimson Linings.
And then wasn't Little Black Sambo grand?	So he put on all his Fine Clothes, and went out for a walk in the Jungle. And by and by he met a Tiger. And theTiger said to him, "Little Black Sambo, I'm going to eat you up!" And Little Black Sambo said, "Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up, and I'll give you my beautiful little Red Coat."	So the Tiger said, "Very well, I won't eat you this time, but you must give me your beautiful little Red Coat." So the Tiger got poor Little Black Sambo's beautiful little Red Coat, and went away saying, "Now I'm the grandest Tiger in the Jungle."
And Little Black Sambo went on, and by and by he met another Tiger, and it said to him, "Little Black Sambo, I'm going to eat you up!" And Little Black Sambo said, "Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up, and I'll give you my beautiful little BlueTrousers."	So the Tiger said, "Very well, I won't eat you this time, but you must give me your beautiful little Blue Trousers." So the Tiger got poor Little Black Sambo's beautiful little Blue Trousers, and went away saying, "Now I'm the grandest Tiger in the Jungle."	And Little Black Sambo went on, and by and by he met another Tiger, and it said to him, "Little Black Sambo, I'm going to eat you up!" And Little Black Sambo said, "Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up, and I'll give you my beautiful little Purple Shoes with Crimson Soles and Crimson Linings." But the Tiger said, "What use would your shoes be to me? I've got four feet, and you've got only two; you haven't got enough shoes for me." But Little Black Sambo said, "You could wear them on your ears." "So I could," said the Tiger: "that's a very good idea. Give them to me, and I won't eat you this time."
So the Tiger got poor Little Black Sambo's beautiful little Purple Shoes with Crimson Soles and Crimson Linings, and went away saying, "Now I'm the grandest Tiger in the Jungle."	And by and by Little Black Sambo met another Tiger, and it said to him, "Little Black Sambo, I'm going to eat you up!" And Little Black Sambo said, "Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up, and I'll give you my beautiful Green Umbrella." But the Tiger said, "How can I carry an umbrella, when I need all my paws for walking with?"	"You could tie a knot on your tail and carry it that way," said Little Black Sambo. "So I could,"said the Tiger. "Give it to me, and I won't eat you this time." So he got poor Little Black Sambo's beautiful Green Umbrella, and went away saying, "Now I'm the grandest Tiger in the Jungle."
And poor Little Black Sambo went away crying, because the cruel Tigers had taken all his fine clothes.	Presently he heard a horrible noise that sounded like "Gr-r-r-r-rrrrrr," and it got louder and louder. "Oh! dear!" said Little Black Sambo, "there are all the Tigers coming back to eat me up! What shall I do?" So he ran quickly to a palm-tree, and peeped round it to see what the matter was.	And there he saw all the Tigers fighting, and disputing which of them was the grandest. And at last they all got so angry that they jumped up and took off all the fine clothes, and began to tear each other with their claws, and bite each other with their great big white teeth.
And they came, rolling and tumbling right to the foot of the very tree where Little Black Sambo was hiding, but he jumped quickly in behind the umbrella. And the Tigers all caught hold of each other's tails, as they wrangled and scrambled, and so they found themselves in a ring round the tree.	Then, when the Tigers were very wee and very far away, Little Black Sambo jumped up, and called out, "Oh! Tigers! why have you taken off all your nice clothes? Don't you want them any more?" But the Tigers only answered, "Gr-r-rrrr!"	Then Little Black Sambo said, "If you want them, say so, or I'll take them away." But the Tigers would not let go of each other's tails, and so they could only say "Gr-r-r-rrrrrr!" So Little Black Sambo put on all his fine clothes again and walked off.
And the Tigers were very, very angry, but still they would not let go of each other's tails. And they were so angry, that they ran round the tree, trying to eat each other up, and they ran faster and faster, till they were whirling round so fast that you couldn't see their legs at all.	And they still ran faster and faster and faster, till they all just melted away, and there was nothing left but a great big pool of melted butter (or "ghi," as it is called in India) round the foot of the tree.	Now Black Jumbo was just coming home from his work, with a great big brass pot in his arms, and when he saw what was left of all the Tigers he said, "Oh! what lovely melted butter! I'll take that home to Black Mumbo for her to cook with."
So he put it all into the great big brass pot, and took it home to Black Mumbo to cook with.When Black Mumbo saw the melted butter, wasn't she pleased! "Now," said she, "we'll all have pancakes for supper!"	So she got flour and eggs and milk and sugar and butter, and she made a huge big plate of most lovely pancakes. And she fried them in the melted butter which the Tigers had made, and they were just as yellow and brown as littleTigers.	And then they all sat down to supper. And Black Mumbo ate Twenty-seven pancakes, and Black Jumbo ate Fifty-five but Little Black Sambo ate a Hundred and Sixty-nine, because he was so hungry. The End