Don't you love The Rapture (the band, not the religious thang)? Boy, I do. They are just too much fun.

I'm reading a great book, "Gay Old Girls", by Zsa Zsa Gershick. It's a handful of interviews with (now) elderly lesbians about being gay in this country before the 1960's. It's very interesting. I feel there is more research emphasis on the historical male gay experience...Harry Hay and Mattachine and all that. While all that was certainly bold and groundbreaking and very important, it seems (according to these interviews) that lesbians had more of a challenge finding any type of "community" to speak of. I guess it's rather futile to say who was more oppressed - everyone suffered from the police raids, the community and familial scorning, lack of role models and an accessible and safe environment to really understand what being gay meant. Three cheers for discrimination and ignorance - the American Way!

Song of the day: "Virginia Woolf" - Indigo Girls

Healing from this flu is slow going. I know I'm not the most patient person in the world, but I have this naive notion that when you're on antibiotics and such, you get better fast. Nope. I have completed all the courses of my medication, not worked at all this week (that made me feel worse than being sick), consumed gallons of liquids, and sealed myself off from all other recognizable human life in order not to make anyone else ill. There are times when I've made real progress, so "cleverly" I'll try to get up and do something around the house. This exhausts me so much I usually end up back in bed wishing I hadn't tried in the first place. I'm really not a Christmas person, but this year has to rank among the worst I've experienced.

I cannot express to you how terrible this flu is. Please don't get it.

In other news, I was watching the Lawrence community channel last night on television, and they were showing this community theater production of "A Lawrence Nutcracker". Now granted, I started watching it in the middle (you know my fetish with bad television), but it was pretty messed up. From what I could discern, it was the traditional "Nutcracker" story (minus the Bolshoi Ballet, of course), but John Brown, noted "abolitionist", was a main character. He was singing and dancing interspersed with rants about slavery. I kept watching to see when he was going to take an ax and start chopping up people, but I got bored. These folks in Kansas are crazy.

I have THE FLU, the one that's killing children and small woodland creatures in Colorado. In fact, you should probably wash your hands after reading this post. I'm in some serious, serious pain. Although there's not much medically that can be done, I went to the doctor anyway and got some various inhalers and antibitoics. I know it's easy to say this every time one gets sick, but I don't remember ever feeling this bad. The ache in my neck and back is pure agony. I can't swallow my throat is so swollen. All I can manage to eat is Kemp's Cow Tracks Ice Cream and Malto Meal. Oh...woe is me.

Some Recent Observations

* I'm still doing lines of "90210" reruns every morning. This morning's episode involved underage drinking, democracy in action, and adults facing no consequences for supplying alcohol to minors. God, I love that show. It's so campy.

* The Episcopal Church is in severe disarray.

* Sliding doors on showers should have warning labels. I nailed my leg the other day on the metal base that the doors slide on, and now I have a rather bad-ass bruise on my leg. I just tell everyone I "fell down the stairs".

* Jack White has been roughing up people. Does this make him tough? Not in the least bit. That smarmy moustache just ruins it. No talent ass clown...

* Micheal Jackson has been officially accused. Let's all listen to "Smooth Criminal" in his honor, shall we?

* My sleeping pills work a little too well. I usually have a hang over until about noon these days.

* I just remembered I like Lake Trout. Damn, they're a fine band. Kindly check them out.

* Nothing makes me more uncomfortable than people at the grocery store who bag your groceries and decide to talk your ear off about things you don't want to hear.

Song of the day: "Oh Holy Night" - by some absolutely HORRIBLE guy who can't sing a lick. It's something my sister found for me. Remind me to burn it for you sometime.

I was coerced into attending a showing of "The Lord of the Rings - Return of the King" last night. I was placated with a bucket of cotton candy and an enormous diet coke and a night off from work, which made it more bearable. I didn't think it was that bad, but not that good either. On the other hand, I'm not a foaming at the mouth fan. I had to talk Jason down from the ledge afterwards, because he is one of those fans, and was quite perturbed at the betrayal of the books. The most entertaining part had to be the people who had dressed in costumes I assume were to represent characters, but they seemed to really be trying a little too hard. There were several times I had to stifle outward peals of laughter and disguise them as coughs. I can be quite obsessive about movies as well - "What's Up Doc?" for example - but you don't see me dressing up as a chinese dragon or anything. Yeah. I guess it takes all sorts.

I was listening to the "Hedwig" tribute album yesterday. I'm not sold. Frank Black singing "Sugar Daddy" is a little disturbing to me.

Song of the day: "The Decline of British Sea Power" - British Sea Power.

I try to be a reasonable person most of the time. But the details surrounding Mr. Hussein's capture are a little strange to me. Christian mementos, "rat holes" and hot dogs? Explaining who he was in English without putting up a fight? What little I know about the man makes me question the ease (not a single shot fired?) with which it all went down. Our government brought this guy to power, and maybe we have taken him out of power with the same careful orchestration and cooperation. And of course, this news comes close on the heels of the whole Haliburton thing - the press has dropped that story pretty quickly. Hm. Something to ponder as I prepare myself for another four years of George W. Bush.

Song of the day: "El Salvador" - Peter, Paul and Mary.

Saddam has been captured. The end justifies the means, right?

It snowed here last night. Quite a bit. Every year during the first snow, I stomp around and sulk, almost in disbelief of the weather - as if I haven't lived in this all my life. It never fails - I don't actually have an overpowering desire to go anywhere until I can't. Well, I could, but I'm trying to spare Whitey Mazda any further discomfort. It's now officially the "Stay Inside and Catch Up on Your Reading" season.

I had to get a tetanus booster shot when I was at the doctor the other day. The actual injection didn't hurt, but now my arm has swollen up, is all red and itchy, and really hurts. The fact that small children are subjected to this so they can attend public school is beginning to seem cruel and unusual to me.

Speaking of needles, one of my clients had to get a lab draw this morning. He's nonverbal, and has a limited understanding of things, so he was clueless when the nurse showed up before breakfast. Jason and I had to hold on to him pretty tightly to keep him still during the draw, and when the needle went in to his arm, he just looked at us like "you just woke me up, and now you're torturing me...what did I ever do to you?". It kinda broke my heart. Then he wouldn't eat his breakfast. Oh, it was sad. I tried not to get too teary eyed.

I have decided that I'm going to like Jet, no matter how much I get made fun of.

Song of the day: "Turn My Blue Sky Black" - Mooney Suzuki.

I saw "Sylvia" this weekend. It was excellent, but I can't think that anyone who isn't a Plath-head would really enjoy it. But all in all, quite good, and right on the mark as far as acccuracy goes.

I finally broke down last week and went to the doctor and got sleeping pills for my tiny insomnia problem. Please do not make any hasty judgements with this news and the previous paragraph's subject matter. And oh, how they lull me to dreamland! It's like floating on a warm cloud into blissful peacefulness. Every once in a while, I get out the bottle and look at it with pure gratitude. I'm on my way to having a persciption drug problem. Way to go me.

My father, looking very friendly and professional.

Today is my dad's birthday. He was born three days before the attack at Pearl Harbor. I love to give him crap about that. I normally abhor silly family posts, but my father is one of the finest people I've ever known, and I respect him very much. Tomorrow night I'm taking him out for thai food and good discussion. Happy birthday Dad!

I am quite guilty of having indie rock boy crushes. Yeah, I know it's kinda silly, but I do just the same. Although I have been crushing pretty hard on Jason McCann as of late, John Vanderslice will always hold a special place in my heart. I've been in love with him ever since I mistook him for a girlfriend from high school back at a Sunny Day show in 1997. He and I've got, like, history, you know? Anyway, he has a new album out January 20, titled "Cellar Door". Yes, it's a Donnie Darko reference. Yeah, that's official. I asked him and all. So order it on Barsuk, then sit tight and wait for him to visit a venue near you!

Song of the day: "Me and My 424" - John Vanderslice.

Just when I thought progress was being made...

Boy Punished for Talking About Gay Mom

LAFAYETTE, La. - A 7-year-old boy was scolded and forced to write "I will never use the word `gay' in school again" after he told a classmate about his lesbian mother, the American Civil Liberties Union alleged Monday.

Second-grader Marcus McLaurin was waiting for recess Nov. 11 at Ernest Gaullet Elementary School when a classmate asked about Marcus' mother and father, the ACLU said in a complaint.

Marcus responded he had two mothers because his mother is gay. When the other child asked for explanation, Marcus told him: "Gay is when a girl likes another girl," according to the complaint.

A teacher who heard the remark scolded Marcus, telling him "gay" was a "bad word" and sending him to the principal's office. The following week, Marcus had to come to school early and repeatedly write: "I will never use the word `gay' in school again."

A phone message left for Lafayette Parish schools superintendent James Easton was not immediately returned.

The ACLU is demanding the case be removed from Marcus' file and that the school apologize to the boy and his mother, Sharon Huff.

"I was concerned when the assistant principal called and told me my son had said a word so bad that he didn't want to repeat it over the phone," Huff said. "But that was nothing compared to the shock I felt when my little boy came home and told me that his teacher had told him his family is a dirty word."

There's probably nothing funnier than two college educated liberal white people in their late 20's sitting in their computer room smoking, drinking soda and singing along to "Straight Outta Compton" at 9:45 am.

"You think I give a damn about a bitch...?"

I'm just sayin's all...

Well, it's official. I'm getting old. Case in point:

* I have no patience with the new Triumph the Insult Dog video. It's just tasteless.

* I bought "O" by Damien Rice this weekend. Oh, it's so m e l l o w.


Oh, what a looker!

* I actually uttered these words this weekend: "You know, I should really be buying furniture and contributing to a Roth IRA rather than buying DVDs, albums and books all the time...".

* I frequently lecture my little sisters on the dangers of "living in the moment" (if you catch my drift).

* I get totally excited about going to concerts, then when it comes down to getting tickets the night of the show, I'm too tired and would rather sit at home with a book and mug of cider.

* I take my job way to seriously. Most of my conversations revolve around work. I've become that person.

* I get excited about sales at grocery stores, carpet cleaning and buying seasonal wreaths for the front door.

* I go to bed before midnight every night.

It's a sick sad world kiddies.

Song of the day: "Volcano" - Damien Rice.

This really isn't funny, except for the fact that it is...

"Paramedics called to the store found VanLester unconscious on top of a DVD player, surrounded by shoppers seemingly oblivious to her, said Mark O'Keefe, a spokesman for EVAC Ambulance."

I've always thought I've wanted to have a child. The desire was fairly strong, but compared to what it's been most recently, it was nothing. It's actually a full-on biological craving now, hardly hindered by rational thoughts that keep me popping my birth control pills. I guess my clock is ticking, which is a little premature to say because I'm only 26. Not only would having a child be really stupid for me now, but I'm not even sure medically I can. Does that make a difference to the "make a baby" hormones? Oh no. They flood my brain, rendering me into a primal wishful-breeding-thinking state at every diaper ad on TV, every rack of infant clothing at the store, and especially every time I see a child in public. And in Lawrence, that's quite a bit. I swear all people in Lawrence do is drink lattes and have babies. They're everywhere. Well, maybe not everywhere, it just seems that way. See what these hormones will do to you?

Song of the day: "Eat for Two" - 10,000 Maniacs.

Today's problem: I actually need to go out and shop. For like Kleenex and conditioner and daily run of the mill stuff. Dare I brave Target? No way. I'll just sit at home and hope the Household Goods Fairy drops by.

Yesterday was a great day for the right wing. Dubya dropped by Iraq to visit our brave men and women in uniform, doing so with an arrogance that can only come from knowing he didn't have to stay. Then there was the Dallas Cowboys halftime show, where Toby Keith and the Salvation Army proved that it doesn't have to be 1930's Germany to whip the country into a foaming-at-the-mouth patriotic Orwellian state.

"They could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, because they never fully grasped the enormity of what was demanded of them, and were not sufficiently interested in public events to notice what was happening." - George Orwell, 1984.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

I live in a perfectly nice part of Lawrence. It's a newer area, in the northwest part of town. My neighbors are all college students, families, and five other Family Teaching Model Homes (what we do). But about a month ago, I found out there was a meth lab down the street. How did I find this out? Well, I was sitting in the living room on the clients side of the duplex and saw a guy running like a bat out of hell, followed by two policeman with revolvers drawn. I went outside and saw seven police cars, and about ten people all running around chasing each other. This went on for an hour or so. I got me really nervous, because this was happening around 3:30 pm, which is about time all the CLO clients get home from work (about 20 live on this street). It's really not a good idea to have developmentally disabled people around criminals, police car sirens, and guns.

This all happened again yesterday, only this time it started at the Ramada Inn (about a mile away), and of course, ended up on our street (the irony in this situation is our street is a cul-de-sac). This time I noticed because the chase was going on through the backyard. I watched the local news last night, and evidently the police never apprehended the suspect. He's still at large. I'll let you draw your own conclusions about our fine public safety department. I realize that for some of my readers, this is normal for your neighborhoods, but this offends my lily white sense of suburban security.

Song of the day: "In the Ghetto" - Elvis Presley.

Everyone's favorite non-Average Joe, Mac Tonnies, has been unwittingly thrust into popular culture. I'd watch the show to see if his clip gets aired, but I have no concept of when it's on or on what channel.

I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. It takes me a long time to actually fall asleep, and then when I finally do, it seems I wake up every half hour or so. I keep a painfully regular sleeping schedule, and I depend on being well rested to handle my job, and this has really disrupted things for me. When I do get a few hours to squeeze in a nap, I'm plagued with thoughts of other things I could be doing. I spend most of my days in a weird fog - losing track of time, staring off into space for (it seems) minutes on end, crying at the drop of a hat over things like...oh, misplacing my keys or being unable to get knots out of shoelaces. And while I would think this would hinder my ability to function, it's not. I whip through stuff at work like I'm on speed - not only doing the regular routine, but spending additional time finding extra stuff to do to. I've lost patience with politeness at management meetings, and lately have no issue telling consultants and administrators where they can stick their "helpful advice". I'm afraid to drive - thinking I'll blank out and run a stop sign. Those close to me are predicting a nervous breakdown by Christmas. I counter that with the fact that my job doesn't afford me the luxury of the middle class flu.

Man, the holidays can be a real drag.

Song of the day: "Sunday" - MK Ultra ("...please understand being down don't give me no pleasure...")

Why not just call the Turkey "Liberty" and then slaughter it? It's more fitting after all...


WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Stars the turkey may have pushed his luck by gobbling throughout a Rose Garden ceremony on Monday but President Bush (news - web sites) just the same gave him a presidential pardon from being served for Thanksgiving dinner.

In a contest to name the national Thanksgiving turkey, conducted on the White House Web site, Stars, and the alternate national bird, Stripes, won out over Pumpkin and Cranberry. "It was a neck-to-neck race," said Bush.

Other names that gained votes were Hope and Glory, Harvest and Bounty, Plymouth and Mayflower, and Lewis and Clark.

"The rule book states that an alternate turkey is chosen in case the national Thanksgiving turkey cannot fulfill his role in this ceremony. It's kind of like being the vice president," Bush said.

In the Rose Garden, Stars punctuated nearly every sentence of the president's with a comment of his own as dozens of schoolchildren giggled, prompting Bush to remark: "Sounds like Stars wants to give the speech."

It was the 56th consecutive year the pardoning ceremony was held in the Rose Garden. The bird, supplied by the National Turkey Federation, was picked from among a group of 40 birds hatched on July 10 in a turkey barn in the Carthage, Missouri area.

Rather than being eaten on Thursday, like millions of other turkeys, Stars will live out the rest of its days at Frying Pan Park in nearby Herndon, Virginia.

Turning serious, Bush thanked U.S. forces serving in Iraq (news - web sites) and elsewhere around the world.

"We're thinking of them and their families. We think of the military families that have suffered loss," he said.

****

Do I also have to mention that he's making a mockery of death penalty pardons? What an asshole.

Song of the day: "Stick the Fucking Flag Up Your Ass" - Propaghandi

Kindly check out Jason's post today on Howard "Pussy" Dean. Thank you.

So here's the choice I have tonight: I can go to The Granada and see The Shins and The Rapture, or I can go to The Bottleneck to Fetish Night. Despite what you may think about me, it's not really a choice. I heard about the last fetish party there - evidently Master Whoever, who's the leading fetish guy in town (not really aware that one could take a title like that), was doing BLOODPLAY with some little slip of a girl and she passed out! Not only does he sound like a big dork (and not in a Northwest way, either), but he obviously doesn't know what he's doing!!! Now I like my lovin' with a little kink, but when you get into extremities that involve human waste, needles, knives, animals. etc., I've got to draw the line. And even if I were a voyeur, I can't imagine watching a club full of people who's sole existence is stuff like this, would even be that exciting. What do you really do at this kind of thing? Stand around and talk about it? "Oh, you're into lumberjacks? Me, I'm into electric shock and airplane hangers..." Lame. Very lame. I mean, have you ever known anyone cool who was into this kind of stuff? Me either. So, yes, I'll be at The Granada tonight, doing what I do best - being an indie snob, which I guess is a kind of fetish in itself.

Song of the day: "The Crablouse" - The Lords of Acid (because I don't find pubic lice erotic either)

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

I know we all bond over this quote. Here are a few songs that I really shouldn't listen to anymore, because I associate them with some of the worst points of my life. (I still listen to them. Emotional catharsis can be so satisfying sometimes.)

* "Ghost" - Indigo Girls

* "My Old Flame" - John Vanderslice

* "State of Love and Trust" - Pearl Jam

* "Texarkana" - REM

* "Out of this World" - The Cure

* "How Soon is Now" - The Smiths

* "Here in My Head" - Tori Amos (well, anything by her to be more specific)

* "Time Bomb" - Dismemberment Plan

* "Why" - Annie Lennox

* "The Killing Moom" - Echo and the Bunnymen

* "Mama Said Knock You Out" - LL Cool J (not really, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention)

It's almost Friday. Thank god for that. I can't take many more weeks like this at work. I say that every week, though, and somehow manage to rise to the occasion. There are a lot of good things about my job - I have no immediate management breathing down my neck, I don't have to dress up, I basically just get to hang out and shoot the shit with four pretty cool guys, but it's also one of those jobs where you're never really "off". Even on the weekends, when I'm promised time off, I'm only a page away. I have nothing but respect for my guys, but being that they are developmentally disabled, some of their personality traits can get really old really fast. One guy can't grasp the concept of commercial breaks on tv, and starts being quite uncouth when there's a break from "Friends" (he's a maniac for that show). Another has a fascination with flipping his shoes, and if I get accidentally hit one more time in the face with a shoe, I might start a rule that he can wear only socks. Then there's one who's not only a non-stop talking machine, but a compulsive liar to boot, and that gets really old. There comes a point when I'm tempted to give him a reality check, however disrespectful that would be. Three out of four of my guys grew up in institutions, and trying to deal with the "survival" behaviors they picked up there is really hard. Food stealing and some um...rather distasteful personal hygiene behaviors are par for the course. I would never blame them for this stuff -- it's not their fault they were treated worse than abused animals for most of their life -- but it's aggravating and heart breaking all the same. Jason and I work our fingers to the bone trying to give these guys the most normalized home life we can, but it's a damn challenge sometimes. Only one of our guys has family that is involved with them, so we're it as far as love, affection and care for these people. It sounds selfish, but the pressure is immense, and it's so much more than just a job. There's a lot of dedication warranted, and while most of the time I'm happy to do it, it would be nice for us to have a life outside of work. Of course, if we had competent staff, and administration that was actually realistic about what can be done with this population, maybe things would be different, but that's an entirely different post.

On the other hand, one of my guys (who's my absolute favorite, even though you're not supposed to have favorites), made pudding for dessert the other day virtually on his own (if you knew what this guy was like, you'd see why it's such a big deal). Lucky for me, he did it while I was being observed by our Behavior Consultant. Gold star for me! And another is actually consistently walking over to the sink after dinner to have help having his hands washed (the idea that this hasn't been taught to him before is kind of frightening). It's things like that that keep me going. Maybe all the hard work is paying off. I'm so proud of them! They're very cool people. Everyone should come over and meet them sometime.

Song of the day: "Bleed American" - Jimmy Eat World (oh, stop laughing - you know you sing along too)

I'm listening to Pavement freely and willingly right now. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Damn, "Stereo" is just so catchy though.

Don't tell anyone.

"Was Stallone ever goth? I forget..."

Oh yes. I have already asked Santa for this one. 71 tracks! That's a shitload of Mad Bob!

Song of the day: "Battle of Who Could Care Less" - Ben Folds Five ("...I found your old ID and you're all dressed up like The Cure...").

As I am writing this, Douglas County is under a tornado watch. What kind of silliness is that? It's the middle of November, for christ's sake!

Song of the day: "Strange" - Tori Amos ("And I wonder when will I learn?").

You know, I've often wondered if my wardrobe was complete. I recently purchased new winter boots, thinking maybe that's what was leaving me unfulfilled. Now I know all I've been missing is a shirt with Mac Tonnies on it! Purchase these for everyone on your holiday list!

Incidentally, have you checked out Jason's post on Tribulation Christmas? Check out the preview then answer me this: Why do people assume Jesus will fly everywhere? Doesn't that seem an abuse of power?

For the sake of discussion....

So I was thinking...what's really up with guys and their attachment to porn? I can understand a guy utilizing the great world of crack whores exposing their naughty bits for cash when this person is say....SINGLE...and everything...but why when you're involved? You know, a couple watching a movie together every once in a while is one thing, but when one person is using net porn for the sake of masturbation, and is doing this roughly 20% (probably a conservative estimate) of the times they jack off...hmmm. Not sure how I feel about that. What does it say about your satisfaction with the sexual proclivity of your partner if you have to resort to images on a computer screen to get off? And, again for the sake of discussion, is it supposed to make the other person feel better when it is explained that a picture of them is next to the computer when this goes on, and that they're not far from that person's mind? Saying that a person is "not far" is not the same as "being there" - there's still some distance involved. And honestly, do people really feel comfortable being inserted into a fantasy that involves fat guys with mullets and sluts with bad boob jobs getting it on? And then there's this argument: "But you bought (insert title of risque indie movie here...maybe "Secretary" or something) because it turns you on...". Not the same. Art is art and other people fucking is porn. One is presumably not using the film as a substitute to good old fashioned knocking of the boots. Saying that this practice has nothing to do with the other person is bullshit. Actively pursuing other avenues of arousal while involved with someone else is questionable at best. If porn's ok...why stop there? Why not go to peep shows or get hookers? "It has nothing to do with how I feel about you...". Hm.

To sum up: If you're single, and at the moment porn is your only avenue of self satisfaction, then do whatever gets you through the night. However, if you're involved in more than a casual relationship, and the person you're involved with clearly isn't into porn, then for god's sake, knock it off. Or at least lie about it.

DISCLAIMER: This is not in reference to Jason Sheets, who thinks porn is rather distasteful. Simply an overheard conversation.

Dan Ayala sent me this link, promising that it was better than the Swamp Donkey of Maryville, or American Pride in Lee's Summit (I'll try to find the disk with pictures of both of these and post them later). It's a close second, I have to agree. I think it should be noted that the guy who painted this rock is named "Bubba".

Song of the day: "Iscarabaid" - Sunny Day Real Estate.

I'm Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme!

Which Simon and Garfunkel album are you?



"Go to the grocery store, buy some new friends..."

Some Recent Observations

* What's up with those Excedrin commercials? They're usually in black and white, with some seriously white collar guy talking all matter-of-factly about headaches and stress, his tone not unlike my father sounded when I missed curfew in high school. I don't like being lectured, especially about headache medicine.

* The Rapture and The Shins at The Granada on the 22! Yeehaw kiddies!

* I keep trying to get fired up over the next presidential election, but I can't. Have I been lulled into apathy?

* According to an Oprah episode I saw the other day, Strippercize is the new workout craze. Or something. Oh, spare me. No one really wants to see "average" women, who've probably never had an orgasm once in their life, attempting to writhe on a pole. Go ahead and get in touch with your sexuality, but not on national TV.

* Have you noticed how nosey Thom Yorke is on the new Radiohead album? Just because he's in one of the greatest bands to come out of the islands in forever doesn't mean he needs to know if I'm happy or not. (Stole this observation from McJason)

* I was dying to see "Love Actually". It sucked. I was sad.

* No matter how poorly you think you're doing at your job, there's always someone else doing worse than you.

* I picked up the Weird Al video collection this weekend. That's some funny stuff. I highly recommend it if you have the means.

* The KU/Nebraska game was this weekend in Lawrence. Small riots ensued. Tires were slashed. I know I just "don't get" sports at all, but I fail to see why anything would warrant that kind of behavior, excluding things like mass poverty and political oppression. You know, a friend from Milwaukee told me that happened there when a showing of "Barber Shop" sold out and people couldn't get in. I can kind of understand that. It was a good movie.

* Riot Grrl Lovin' Jews are the worst kind of people.

Song of the day: "Underground" - Ben Folds Five.

I suppose I should make a few comments about the partial birth abortion ban. While I personally find second semester abortions repugnant, I do realize they unfortunately have an appropriate time and place (mother/child's health, rape and incest, etc.). I know that sometimes it's difficult for a woman to make arrangements in time for a first semester abortion - although if abortions were more accessible to rural communities and/or more affordable, you wouldn't have that problem would you? But my real issue is the terminology of the bill - it's very vague, and can be interpreted to include all abortion procedures, and if one wanted to be a real jackass of a judge, restricting access to birth control. You think Bush knows this? Oh hell yes. What irritates me more, is that, albeit relying on stereotypes, I'm sure the men pushing this bill through have gotten some woman "in trouble" before and have indirectly or directly relied on an abortion to avoid any scandal. The hypocrisy is sickening. But let's be fair - in the majority of cases, abortion in any trimester is used as a form of birth control, not in cases of rape or incest, and if women would get their shit together and use birth control to begin with, this issue wouldn't be so dramatic. There's really no excuse for women in this country to not protect themselves - it's accessible, relatively cheap, and certainly more practical than being irresponsible and praying for the crimson tide every month. Popping a pill every day is a lot less work than bringing an unwanted child into the world, or living with the guilt of - let's be honest - murder - on your soul for the rest of your life. I'm all for sexual liberation, but with freedom comes responsibility. And we all know, that when it comes down to the finality of it all, women can't really rely on men to be responsible or dependable. Men will never, ever be faced with the true impact of the decision, so why women aren't proactive in avoiding it is beyond me. Maybe there's more truth to that whole "weaker sex" thing than I'd like to think.

Song of the day: "Goodbye Max!" - MK Ultra (as usual, John Vanderslice will always be my hero).

Today's "90210" was the infamous Color Me Bad(d?) episode. As with all terrible television programming (TBN, The British House of Commons, Korean Music Hour on IFC, etc.), I couldn't stop watching. It was a trainwreck. Actually, worse than that. It was a trainwreck into a nitroglycerine plant next to an orphanage of paraplegic children who'd just adopted puppies from the humane society. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't. I was sitting all alone in my living room, smoking like a fiend, with my hands half covering my eyes, almost unable to keep watching when they started singing. How did these guys have any popularity at all? They looked like date rapists that hang out at plasma donation centers. And while I have certainly been guilty of liking bad music, I've never sunk that low. These guys make Andy Gibb look like Bob Dylan.

The Northwest Amnesty benefit concert is tomorrow night. Dare I say it won't be the same without us this year?

Song of the day: "The Wanderer" - Dion and the Motherf-ing Belmonts. Now that's music.

Ok...so I'm sickly addicted to reruns of "Beverly Hills 90210" - I watch them every morning on FX. This morning's episode was the struggle of big business vs. the working man, all wrapped up in one hour. "The world revolves around money? Say it ain't so! Especially in Beverly Hills!" Oh, it was great. There's something about a tv show being so far removed from the real world that makes it utterly enthralling. At least today the story line was more believable than the usual "teen morality" crap that's usually presented. I don't know about you, but my high school experience was nothing like that.

Song of the day: "House of Jealous Lovers" - The Rapture...get out on the floor and shake what your mama gave ya!

A Blustery Autumn Sunday Playlist

"D'You Know What I Mean" - Oasis ("...the sun and the sky never raised an eye to me...")

"Maybe I'll Catch Fire" - Alkaline Trio ("...maybe I'll catch fire...something warm to take hold of me...")

"Sarah" - Fleetwood Mac ("...drowning in a sea of love...where everyone would love to drown...")

"Teeth Like God's Shoeshine" - Modest Mouse ("...the malls are the soon-to-be ghost towns...")

"Suggestions" - System of a Down ("...if you own the lighthouse, then you own the working class...")

"I'm on Fire" - Tori Amos ("...sometimes I feel like you took a knife edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my soul...")

"50 Ways to Leave your Lover" - Paul Simon ("...the problem is all inside your head, she said to me...")

"My Old Flame" - John Vanderslice ("...our old house...oh, everything's changed...bleached out and aired, IKEA'd and swept bare...")

"As Days Go By" - Talking Heads ("...and you say to yourself...how did I get here?...)

"Enfilade" - At the Drive In ("...humor me with this request...in facelessness we'll hide...at leisure with our alibi's...")

"Bob Dylan's Dream" - Bob Dylan ("...ten thousand dollars...I'd give it all gladly at the drop of a hat if our lives could be like that...")

"Amsterdam" - Guster ("...I want to see your reaction, I want to see how it looks...")

"Treat Yourself with Kindness" - Clearlake ("...try your best to treat yourself with just a little bit of kindness...")

"Caring is Creepy" - The Shins ("...never betray the way you've always known it is...")

"The City" - Dismemberment Plan ("...I never had just whatever it is you want, baby...and I really tried, I tried with all my might...it made me crazy to try to figure out what it is I've done wrong...every time when everything I love, everything I hold dear heads out sometime...")

"Everyday is like Sunday" - Morrissey ("...how I didn't wish I was not here...")

How hip am I, eh?

This is quite possibly the stupidest article I've ever read.

This is why I don't swim in the ocean. Well, that and a crippling fear of large bodies of water.

Song of the day: "Aqua Boogie" - Parliament.

Old habits die hard...

While talking with Brian Fish the other night about blogging, a wonderful idea was birthed -- a blog consisting of the random shit spewing that was ever so popular with the Amnesty/English Department/Old School Loop/Santa Fe Shanty crowd these past few years. Brian and Steven have started this blog, Dork Northwest, where certain privileged people can post and "preach to the choir". All in all it's a great concept, since we're all a little too far apart to hook up at The Pub anymore...

Top 5 Santa Fe Shanty Songs:

5. ) "Get Up Go Insane" - Strech-n-Vern

4.) That Pacman on crack song - Bloodhound Gang (you had to be there)

3.) "Setting Sun" - Chemical Brothers

2.) "Glory Box" - Portishead

1.) "Work It" - Missy Elliot

Honorable mention: "Junkie's Prayer" - Mirwais

Here's what I think about Darkness...

They're not:

*Groundbreaking
*Brilliant
*Excellent musicians
*Particularly newsworthy

They are:

*Campy
*Catchy
*Highly addictive
*Pretty damn funny

Today's post brought to you by Brian Fish, photographer, writer, slave for The Man, former roommate and all around damn fine friend.

"Celebrities have what it takes to win elections. Here's my suggestion for part of the 2004 Executive Branch:

President: Harrison Ford (Tom Clancy fans would probably agree)

Vice President: Oprah (imagine what the "White House: After the Show" episodes would be like!)

Attorney General: Bob Dylan (poetic justice)

Secretary of State: Gandalf the White (I don't need to justify this.)

Secretary of Commerce: Ralph Nader (The fastest way to bring down sky-scrapers...well...maybe not the FASTEST...)

Secretary of Defense: O.J. Simpson (Knows a little something about defense.)

Secretary of the Treasury: Bill Gates (He has all the money anyway, and his products control the rest.)

Secretary of Homeland Security: Clint Eastwood (Wouldn't you feel safe?)

Secretary of Agriculture: Willie Nelson (*slow clap*)

Secretary of Housing & Urban Development: P-Diddy and Lil’ Kim (Don't you watch MTV Cribs?)

Secretary of Energy: Shazam (Shaaaaazam! No more power outages.)

Secretary of Labor: David Hasselhoff (If he's had a career this long, he must know what he's doing.)

Secretary of Health & Human Services: Richard Simmons (But can we really handle the flames?)

Secretary of Transportation: The Batmobile (Might not get congressional approval. May have to ask the Labor Secretary to bust Kit out of storage.)

Secretary of Education: Susan Sarandon (Because she's cool like that.)

Secretary of the Interior: Lou Diamond Phillips? (The only Native American celeb I could think of.)

Press Secretary: Quentin Tarantino (Press conferences would at least be bloody, if not a little more Bohemian.)

Drug Czar: Woody Harrelson (You get it.)

EPA: (will remain vacant since no one really cares about protecting the environment)

Secretary of Veterans Affairs: Saddam Hussein (I really can't justify this, so I will not try.)"

Song of the day: "I'm Too Sexy" - Right Said Fred.

Get ready to laugh...er...um...rock...



Ok displaced Northwest folks, I'm giving you a very important update. Everyone's favorite frat boy pseudo punk band, Prank Monkey, have inexplicably renamed themselves No Collar Hero. Yes, they're still "tearing up the midwest" by playing randomly in the basement of The Pub, but the real news is that they somehow roped Steve Ewing (The Urge) into playing with them tonight. If only we were all still there...we could do our best Hatey McHatesalot while chucking Coors at the stage.

What's next? The White Stripes teaming up with Beck? Oh wait...

Song of the day: "All Washed Up" - The Urge. Oh, the irony.

Top Five Guilty Pleasures

5.) "Beverly Hills 90210" reruns

4.) Sonic banana cream pie shakes

3.) Justin Timberlake

2.) "When Animals Attack"

1.) Any episode of "City Confidential" where they talk about polygamists or dirty cops.

Song of the day: "Days of the Phoenix" - AFI.

The five year anniversary of Matthew Shepard's murder, so representative of the senseless aggressive and prejudicial attitude in this country, is today.

Perhaps I'm oversimplifying things here, but killing someone because they're gay is just about the most ignorant thing I can think of.

Speaking of ignorance, and in case you've forgotten that the only thing wrong with Christianity is the Christians, take a look at my favorite hate-enablers, The Westboro Baptist Church. I'm not so proud to say I live down the interstate from these people.

Song of the day: "Suedehead" - Morissey.

Swimming the same deep water as you is hard...

It's amazing to me what people interpret as causes for happiness. Everytime my life changes in a semi-5-year-plan-altering way, old friends and the like come out of the woodwork to "catch up on old times", all the while straining to impersonate a friendship that's long since been neglected. The one annoying and ridiculous question I always get after my brief rundown of the situation is:

"So are you happy now?"

What kind of question is that? Anyone who knows me well knows I'm never fully content with anything. The grass is always greener...something will always promise to be easier, more fulfilling and give better results. If I were happy with anything in my life, I wouldn't be in a constant stage of transition.

And how can I answer that? Am I happy? Is this as good as it gets? Is it merely enough to be comfortable financially, have a mostly reliable support system, and a relationship that - ignoring certain circumstances - provides me with emotional security? Am I selfish and unrealistic for wanting more than this? Why can't I fall asleep at night without the impedement of compulsive anxiety or wake up in the morning grateful for all that I have? Is this truly anti-depressant worthy, or is it just that I've tasted perfection before and won't settle for a mendacious facade?

Regret is an addictive emotion. Without it, I'd not have the drive to overcompensate in other aspects of my life. I am pulled in dozens of different directions searching for anything that will give me the illusion of being complaisant to myself and others. It all seems like such a soul wrenching lie most of the time.

Song of the day: "Untitled" - The Cure.

Some recent observations:

* People are generally not polite. Especially people you don't even know letting themselves into your house while you're asleep like it's a freaking public library. To fix a computer problem you requested to be remedied three months ago.

* Half-assed justice doesn't really cut it. Like Arnold "apologizing" for being a sexist swine.

* The members of OutKast are really a talented bunch of fellows.

* Network morning news shows make my teeth hurt they're so sugary. I severely dislike witty banter.

* Sleep is way underrated.

* For my rental dollar, it's hard to beat "A Mighty Wind".

* Whoever Sigur Ros has thinking up their video concepts deserves a bonus.

* Those frozen mini pretzel things with the cheese in the middle, which I need like I need a hole in my head, are quite tasty.

* My sister kicks ass because she recently lied to Customs in Toronto. Way to stick it to the man!

* Built to Spill is coming to Lawrence in a few weeks. I'm not going. I'd rather do almost anything than be trapped in a club with that band and their fans. That includes going to Branson for a weekend.

Song of the day: "One Armed Scissor" - At the Drive In.

I'm finally beginning to accept the fact that The Dismemberment Plan has really, truly broken up (finally). Especially now that I've heard some of Travis Morrison's solo work. The D-Plan is just an experience that can't be replicated. Those guys got me through some times, let me tell ya.

Song of the day: "The City" - Dismemberment Plan.

Extinct mammals being found. Maybe there's hope yet.

Celebrity is thicker than sisterhood.

Some highly underrated and forgotten albums:

"101" - Depeche Mode

"Out of Time" - R.E.M.

"Downward is Heavenward" - HUM

"Bedtime Stories" - Madonna

"The Joshua Tree" - U2

"Revolver" - The Beatles

"Nashville Skyline" - Bob Dylan

"Ceremony" - New Order

"Rites of Passage" - The Indigo Girls

"Kick" - INXS

Song of the day: "State of Love and Trust" - Pearl Jam

Today's Mini Playlist

"Sister Ann" - MC5

"The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter" - The Anniversary

"Inner Meet Me" - The Beta Band

"It's No Good" - Depeche Mode

"Margin Walker" - Fugazi

"Bombs Over Baghdad" - Outkast

"I'll Never Be Your Maggie May" - Suzanne Vega

Today's post brought to you by Michael Moore.

"The following is an interview with the First Couple from the current issue of one of my favorite magazines, Ladies Home Journal (Oct. '03). They are asked about what September 11, 2001, was like for them personally, and, although over 3,000 people had just perished, George W. was able to find some humor by the end of that day:

Peggy Noonan (the interviewer): You were separated on September 11th. What was it like when you saw each other again?

Laura Bush: Well, we just hugged. I think there was a certain amount of security in being with each other than being apart.

George W. Bush: But the day ended on a relatively humorous note. The agents said, "you'll be sleeping downstairs. Washington's still a dangerous place." And I said no, I can't sleep down there, the bed didn't look comfortable. I was really tired, Laura was tired, we like our own bed. We like our own routine. You know, kind of a nester. I knew I had to deal with the issue the next day and provide strength and comfort to the country, and so I needed rest in order to be mentally prepared. So I told the agent we're going upstairs, and he reluctantly said okay. Laura wears contacts, and she was sound asleep. Barney was there. And the agent comes running up and says, "We're under attack. We need you downstairs," and so there we go. I'm in my running shorts and my T-shirt, and I'm barefooted. Got the dog in one hand, Laura had a cat, I'm holding Laura --

Laura Bush: I don't have my contacts in , and I'm in my fuzzy house slippers --

George W. Bush: And this guy's out of breath, and we're heading straight down to the basement because there's an incoming unidentified airplane, which is coming toward the White House. Then the guy says it's a friendly airplane. And we hustle all the way back up stairs and go to bed.

Mrs. Bush: [LAUGHS] And we just lay there thinking about the way we must have looked.

Peggy Noonan (interviewer): So the day starts in tragedy and ends in Marx Brothers.

George W. Bush: THAT'S RIGHT-- WE GOT A LAUGH OUT OF IT!

(end)

Although America had just suffered the worst attack ever on our own soil, somehow this man was able to end his day on a funny note. I wonder how many of the 3,000 families who lost someone earlier that day had a funny ending before they went to sleep? Please read the above exchange aloud to anyone who will listen. It speaks volumes."

Song of the day: "The City" - Dismemberment Plan.

Am I the only one who finds this picture a tad disturbing?

Song of the day: "US Forces" - Midnight Oil.

"If they had the chance, U.S. soldiers at a base in Iraq would have had one question for Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld -- When are we going home?." Rumsfeld didn't even show up. Coward.

Two years after the September 11 attacks, those responsible still go unpunished. That makes me angry. And our country, now responsible for causing exponentially greater suffering worldwide in the name of a war on terror, also goes unpunished. That makes me more angry. A sizeable majority of the people of this country - from citizens to government officials - have protested this unwarranted aggression and have been stiffled and ignored. That angers me the most. Democracy my ass.

Song of the day: "Come in Alone" - My Bloody Valentine.

Estrada withdraws his judiciary nomination! Party at my place this weekend!

George W. Bush is observing Labor Day by addressing union workers in Ohio. Oh, the irony. I sincerely hope there are no surviving IWW members now. I'd be completely embarassed for them to witness this. You reap what you sow, so the saying goes...

And how are you celebrating? Thinking about how you're going to pay back all of those student loans working the only midling job you could find after searching for six months? Wondering why you went to school to begin with because you can't find a job in your area of study? Feeling cheated because the position you have doesn't require any formal education and you're not making more than those without a B.A.?

Yeah, me too. While I really do love my job, this isn't exactly how I pictured my life when I started pursuing The Great American Dream at college.

Let me take this opportunity to direct you to the Socialist Party U.S.A. website. Educate. Agitate. Organize.

Songs of the day: "The International/Solidarity Forever/Stand Up Ye Workers", "Beds Are Burning" and "My Country" - Midnight Oil, "Worried Man Blues" - Woody Gutherie, "When the Ship Comes In" - Bob Dylan, "Rockin in the Free World" - Neil Young.

Song of the day: "Angry White Boy Polka" - Weird Al.

Hot damn, folks.

Song of the day: "Get Into the Groove" - Madonna.

It's a start.

Wesley Willis
1963-2003

Song of the Day: "Jesus is the Answer" - Wesley Willis.

I have now witnessed firsthand the mini-van commercial with the Modest Mouse song in it. The commercial obviously begs this question:

Does anyone who listens to Modest Mouse need a minivan?

Christ, I hope not.

After all my posturing about exposing my yet-to-be-conceived unborn children to good music, this has made me pause and ponder...will I stop listening to ass kicking tunes when I start breeding, or will my labor coach come prepared with a Clash boxset?

Song of the day: "Tiny Cities Made of Ashes" - Modest Mouse.

I hate to sound so tacky, but my life has become painfully stiffling and depressing. Ciggarettes, suburban domicile, the drudgery of work, fitful dreamless sleep, dinner standing up at the kitchen counter, responsibilities abound...a red letter day consists of being able to catch a rerun of "Will and Grace" in it's entirety and use the facilities when I want, not just when I have the time. God, you'd think I was an adult or something.

"Twenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift..."

Song of the day: "Big Time" - Peter Gabriel.

Personal News Flash!

Grandaddy is the greatest band I've finally caught on to.

Song of the day: "The Final Push to the Summit" - Grandaddy.

Here's what I've been considering today - do musicians rock out to their own music? Does Robert Smith get blowjobs while listening to "Fascination Street"? Does Neil Young throw on "Harvest" while going to work on the deck? Does Stevie Nicks get pissed off thinking about Lindsey Buckingham and drag out "Silver Springs"?

This is what I ponder while I should be paying attention to other things, like driving or something.

Song of the day (appropriately enough): "Your Star is Killing Me" - Chisel.

Random Santa Fe Shanty Pic



Song for this pic: "Tomorrow Never Knows" - The Beatles.

Question of the day: Is it possible to win at Addiction Solitare?

Answer of the day: No.

Song of the day: "Three Days" - Jane's Addiction.

The Five Seasons Ski Team



About a year ago, The Maryville Daily Forum wrote a horror show of a story about this ski team from Cedar Rapids, Iowa that came to perform at Mozingo Lake. Highlights of this show included a ski routine about "daily life in prison". I don't know about you, but I was damn sorry I missed it, because I really wanted to see some anal raping on skis. Anyway, this is the best I could find. I don't really know what to make of it.

Not to be outdone, here is a picture of The Lowe Family, who I had the extreme displeasure to see on July 4th. Yeah, this is the Iwojima thing I was telling you about.



America. God bless it.

This is Jason on his 19th birthday, the first I ever celebrated with him. Nine years later...my how time flies.

Happy Birthday Jason!

Song of the day: That entire Ashes cd we listened to the first summer we dated.

Random Old School Pic of Robert Smith Day



"Smile at me slyly...another festive compromise..."

Song O' the day: "Other Voices" - The Cure.

As happy as I am, I believe this will be the time that the proverbial shit will hit the proverbial fan. Yes, as a matter of fact, it is in the Book of Proverbs.

Revised Song of the day: "Vicar in a Tutu" - The Smiths.

"The generals love napalm...it has a big psychological effect."

Song of the day: "When the Ship Comes In" - Bob Dylan. Try to take some comfort in idealism.

Things that greatly annoy me:

* When people think they understand the great political struggles of Bob Marley because they smoke pot.

* When people credit Blondie for bringing rap into "the mainstream".

* When people say they're into Monty Python, but have only seen the movies.

* John Lydon.

* "Wish" Cure fans.

* People who "don't get" The Dismemberment Plan.

* The fact that The Deftones have gone way down hill.

* People who don't understand "The Rules of Attraction" is a great movie.

* Gay men who are still into the Depeche Mode circa 1985 look.

* The fact that I really dig a Jefferson Starship song ("Jane").

* When people play air banjo to anything, but especially The Kingston Trio.

* That Bob Dylan isn't playing guitar on tour anymore.

* That I'm harassed by everyone I come into contact with (including sanatation workers) for not liking Built to Crap...er...Built to Spill.

* The fact that Billy Joel has written one really good song ("Downeaster Alexa").

* That I never learned a damn thing in high school except how to skip class, lead on guys, elude popularity, throw Amnesty benefit concerts, fake orgasms and avoid any real responsibility.

* The fact that I had a better college experience in high school than I did in college.

* That I haven't been able to spend quality time with Sarge and Pepper in a long time.

* That I am compelled to listen to "The Scientist" by Coldplay all the time even though it's so damn depressing.

* When you meet really cool people, and they never live where you are...they're always somewhere far away...like northern California.

Song of the day: "Woo Ha" - Busta Rhymes.

I ended up in Atlanta, GA this weekend for my grandfather's funeral. Yes, thank you for your kind thoughts. He lived a good life and all that. I saw family I hadn't seen in ten years. It was nice. I have a...ok...let's see if I can get this right...a step second cousin...yeah, that's right...who looks like a really built Jake Gyllenhaal. He made the entire experience much more enjoyable. Oh hush. He's not a blood relative.

Being essentially a transplanted southerner, I was again pleasantly surprised at the etiquette differences between the darkest midwest and the land of Dixie. That famed southern hospitality is no joke. Various lines of the family fed us at every chance, and quite well I might add (I had forgotten how good fried chicken, pole beans, cornbread, lemon iced cake and sweet tea are). I never had to carry my suitcase once, and get this--men actually offered their chairs everytime I walked into a room. I don't think I opened a door the entire time. And the accent--oh wow. I mean, "Maggie" actually has eight syllables! Too funny. Now, granted, some of the down home religion stuff was a bit um...shocking, but hey...that's their deal. They seemed sincere at least, which is more than I can say for other members of my immediate family.

This would be an appropriate juncture to state that just because people are poor and black doesn't mean they want to murder you. Although if they knew the insulting quasi-liberal b.s. you're saying about them in the car, they might change their minds.

Song of the day: "Down Rodeo" - Rage Against the Machine.

Song of the day: "Gin and Juice" - Phish.

From roughly 1990 to about 1994 I spent many a Friday and Saturday night at The Outhouse in Lawrence, one of the only venues in this part of the country where I could catch Social D one night and Gwar the next (while my parents thought I was at youth group). I smoked, drank, made out...all that good stuff for the first time there. It's good to know I'm not the only one feeling nostalgic. Here's a great article about it.

Song of the day: "Safety Boots" - MU330 (I saw them so many times at The Outhouse I thought they lived there).

It's easy to get kind of apathetic about the upcoming presidential election. It's perfectly understandable if you feel that there won't be much we can do to ensure the republican monarchy won't get reelected. When I feel this way, I decide to listen to John Ashcroft singing his own music. THIS ADMINISTRATION MUST BE STOPPED.

Song of the day: "Stick the Fucking Flag Up Your Ass..." - Propaghandi.

Oh my.

Chicken Soup For My Feminist Soul

There is a strong divide between feminists regarding the sex industry. In my experience, it's usually a generational thing. My mother, for example, who took me to my first D.C. protest (equal pay for equal work) when I was 13 months old, does not feel that women in the sex industry are doing the rest of us any favors by using their bodies and "not their brains". I, however, feel there's no better way to stick it to the patriarchy than to take advantage of the fact that men will spend copious amounts of money to satisfy rather guttural animal desires. I've never really been opposed to women using their bodies to get ahead in life, and think that prostitution is a perfectly logical career move for some (in theory--in practice that's another story).

Unfortunately, not all have the same opinions as I do. Especially those who are managing within the industry, most specifically the owners of clubs. It's never really anything I ever considered, but because there is such a taboo associated with these workers, club owners were able to get away with really illegal labor practices for a long time and no one ever really noticed or cared. Exotic dancers are considered "independent contractors", therefore clubs didn't have to fuss with that whole "tax" deal. Stage fees, meaning dancers have to pay management to use the stage, were imposed upwards to $150 a shift (note to club owners: this is illegal - check out Labor Code 351). Forget any of the other employment "givens" we all enjoy - overtime, worker's compensation, sick days, unemployment insurance, etc. Don't even ask about health benefits.

Discrimination ran rampant - women of color were consistently not scheduled as often, because they didn't have white skin and blonde hair (does it matter...isn't it kind of a captive audience?), and if your breasts weren't DD, you'd better get implants or not work. In some clubs, the glass used for peep shows was one way, so the customer could see the dancer, but not the other way around. What happened? Guys brought in cameras, taped the performance and put it up on the net - obviously without permission from the dancer.

Speaking of the internet, as porn became more accessible that way, customer bases started to drop in clubs. Management (in some clubs) responded by demanding dancers do more, usually for less money. This has escalated to management encouraging customers to touch the dancers, most of the time without clearing this with their employees. And the sharing a percentage of your tips with management...well, I don't see them out there flashing their naughty bits to strangers.

So guess what? Some uppity Jewish grad students/strippers got angry about it and organized a union. It was quite a struggle, and I suggest you read more about it here. Awesomely enough, a lot of the customers were union as well, and wouldn't cross a picket line, and helped these women achieve a better working environment by voting with their dollars. Honestly, I never would have given men that much credit. I stand corrected.

Yeah, so I’m not feeling entirely inspired about this post, but I do think it’s cool to point out. Try to support clubs in your area that respect worker’s rights. Thank you.

Song of the day: "Human Nature" - Madonna.

A while back I was complaining about the Yahoo description of "High Fidelity". Well, I've found a better one from TV Guide. Incidently, it's on Comedy Central tonight.

"John Cusack is in a groove in this hip romantic comedy, which rarely skips a beat.

After Rob Gordon (Cusack) is dumped by his girlfriend, Laura (Iben Hjejle), the used-record-store owner reflects on the five most important relationships of his young life. He also makes all the wrong moves as he tries to win Laura back, while his eccentric “music geek” employees (Todd Louiso, Jack Black) offer what can only charitably be called moral support. Stephen Frears' 2000 film is based on Nick Hornby's bestseller, but is set in Chicago, not London. Bruce Springsteen appears as himself. Ian: Tim Robbins. Marie: Lisa Bonet. Liz: Joan Cusack. (VCR Plus+ 5940462)"

Why is this so important to me?

Song of the day: "I'll Never Be Your Maggie Mae" - Suzanne Vega.

"Why not reach out to the right-wingers in your area, and invite them over for some nice, relaxing, oral and/or anal sex? I know what you're thinking, but remember--everyone looks liberal in the dark."

Song of the day: "Baker Baker" - Tori Amos.

It might not have been the wisest choice for us to get the super crazy cable bonanza on our telephone/cable/internet deal. Why? Because there are two channels, and two Music Choice channels I can't tear myself away from - M2, VH1 Classics, the 80's station, and the New Wave station. Because of these channels, I spend an extrodinary part of my day parked on the couch having a stroll down memory lane. Oingo Boingo, Echo and the Bunnymen, Squeeze, The Smiths, Madness, U2, The Banshees, New Order, Kate Bush...yeah, it's all there. It's so all about the 80's right now for me. I'm not sure how cool that really is, but whatever. It's turned into a mindless marathon, bringing on bizarre revalations. Yesterday Jason and I concluded that "867-5309/Jenny" is one of the purely greatest rock songs of all time, up there with "Message in a Bottle".

Yeah, we're going to get out of the house today. No need for an intervention.

Have I told you about the wonder known as Lake Trout? I haven't gotten this worked up about a band since Sigur Ros. There's something to be said for genre bending music.

Song of the day: "Throw Me the Whip" - Lake Trout.

Yeah, so Lawrence is everything I hoped it would be. Everything is hip here - from gas stations to Dollar General's. Thanks to all who provided primo references and such to get me and Jason to this point! (A big thanks to all those who lied through their teeth about some of our "lifestyle choices").

I love our house! You all should come visit! We have more than enough bedrooms and bathrooms...and hell, the closets are big enough to harbor a few people "Anne Frank" style (hint hint Jason). An email to all who matter will be forthcoming listing all important contact info. If you haven't by some chance received this mail and wish to, email me and if I think you score low enough on the sociopath scale, I'll get the stuff to you.

Incidently, I think we should all pause and consider the point that Martin Luther essentially democratized Christianity.

Song of the day: "One Percent of One" Steven Malkmus and The Jicks

It's a tradition in my family to find the campiest, trashiest, most hillbilly spectacle of patriotism every July 4th. This year was definitely a highlight.

We ended up in Independence, Missouri, which should have tipped us off right away as to what we were getting into. This year The Community of Christ (you know, the RLDS folks with the auditorium that has the ceiling that looks like a giant toilet bowl?) hosted some Branson family variety show and then a mediocre fireworks display. Oh, it was hideous. High points of this variety show include:

* A tribute to a child that died three days after birth, including a photo of this child on a screen and a really bizarre rendition of "Danny Boy" with a kicking bass line. (They also decided to have this weird drum line thing in the middle. It didn't really make sense.)

* A reenactment of the flag raising at Iwojima by six women and one man - all wearing outfits that resembled a blue sequined nightmare I once had.

* An emotional picture montage that basically insinuated that Jesus Christ is (was?) an American.

* An "arrangement" of "Ashokan Farewell" that made me want to shoot myself in the face.

* Selections from "Les Miserables" and "Phantom of the Opera” all performed while donning capes that resembled costumes executioners used to wear.

* Half-assed swing dancing to some forgettable music from the 1940's - although I would like to point out that the one guy performing was wearing a zoot suit. Had there been a wall handy at this point, I would have used it to bang my head against.

The whole performance left me cold. Very cold. And the crowd was eating it up to...clapping and cheering wildly at every mention of our brave armed forces, "heroes" (what is the trendy definition of a hero these days, anyway...?), or Jesus. It got rather Neuremburg-ish at points. I decided not to stand during The Pledge of Allegiance, and frankly, I'm surprised I made it out of there with all limbs intact. Pre 9/11 I might have found all this pretty funny, but now it evokes rather melancholy emotions concerning the country my children (should I have the ovaries to actually create a child in this nation's current downward spiral) will live in.

I love this country as much, or possibly more, than most people. But I guess I love it for the unrealized potential it has rather than the embarrassing spectacle of idiocy and blind patriotism it is now.

You know, this kinda stuff creeps me out. There's something about an unidentified dead sea creature that is as long as a school bus that is pretty disturbing. And I thought soft shell turtles were bad...

(You can read about this here.)

Just a few notes for today, y'all.

"A store owner, who sells only vinyl records, has a midlife crisis, assesses his life and tries to win back an ex-girlfriend. Directed by Stephen Frears. Based on the book by Nick Hornby. Adult Situations; Language." This is the description listed on Yahoo for High Fidelity. That's the lamest summary I've ever heard. For some reason, it pisses me off. It's easily one of the best movies of the 90's, and they make it sound as appealing as a dinner party hosted by Antonin Scalia.

Secondly, has it ever occurred to you what a fanfuckingtastic song "Like A Rolling Stone" is? Yeah, I think it's in my top five of all time.

Not only have I gotten another kick ass job which enabled me to quit this other horrible employment I've endured recently, but Strom Thurmond kicked the bucket (although, unfortunate to note, it seems he died peacefully) and the Supreme Court has struck down bans on private sexual relations between homosexuals. Really, can this day get any better?

Cheers to a better future for civil rights, kids!

I quit my job today. This is not the actual resignation letter I turned in, but rather the one I wanted to.


As of the date listed above, I am submitting my formal notice of resignation from employment with ****. I request that my last day of employment be Thursday, July 3, 2003. Yes, I realize it’s not 30 days notice, or even two weeks notice, but seeing that administration is always making me write reports accounting for my use of overtime, it’s obvious you think I don’t work in the first place, so my abbreviated notice shouldn’t put you in an awkward position as far as staffing goes.

Although I have gained much knowledge and experience from this position, I am not satisfied with my employment at ****, and no longer feel I am the most appropriate candidate for the job. In order to skip the exit interview, let me clarify what “not satisfied with my employment” really means to me:

· I severely dislike the fact that the entire administration micromanages, to the point where I feel I am being spied on and checked up on continually.
· This corporation has no standards when hiring direct care staff. I am always completely amazed at the illiterate, inconsiderate, unintelligent people you find off the street to provide the most important and critical care to the residents.
· The lack of professionalism within management is astounding. All work issues are blown entirely out of proportion and then never followed up on by administration. Every situation that arises becomes a personal conflict between workers. The Executive Director was obviously trained in the “Genghis Khan School of Management” – if I get bitched out one more time for something that I had absolutely no involvement in, I’m going to throw my damn laptop at him. Incidentally, did anyone bother to check and see if I really had any of the certifications and licenses I said I did? Yeah, your HR department sucks too.
· You know, it’s really nice that during the weekly management meeting you would spend upwards of $250 at a time on food and drinks for us – it was a nice touch. But when my residents can’t get eyeglasses because Medicaid won’t pay for them and then you tell me the company can’t pay for it because we’re short on funds…well, that excuse doesn’t really wash. Why don’t you try prioritizing instead of subsidizing your meals for a couple of days?
· Here’s a big tip when you hire someone to replace me: train him or her, and then provide them with a supervisor that actually works. It’s really difficult having to initiate all of your own training, and then actually have that training in five minute bursts on the phone. Give this person a freaking break.
· Stop lying to cover your ass. In this field, lying can be really problematic – you could get yourself in legal trouble with the state. Covering up mistakes is unethical – the truth will be found, I promise you. It should also be noted that lying will get you no where—especially when some people…oh…say me, for example, have written documentation that disproves your “version of the story”.
· Get your policies straight. It’s really aggrivating being told to do something one way, and then being criticized for doing it wrong, then being told to do it an opposite way, and in turn being told that it’s incorrect. Possibly you wonder why I’ve stopped asking for advice recently?
· Finally, stop telling me that I’m not doing my job the right way when you have no idea what my job entails or requires. Just because you approved my job description three years ago does not mean you know it well enough to criticize. Come spend a day (and night – since I’m always on call with no compensation) job shadowing me if you have any doubts on my competency.

I will schedule a time with my supervisor to return all company property and information pertaining to this position. I have compiled a list of these items and request that a copy, signed by my supervisor and myself be kept in my employment file. Why? Because I’m not going to leave this job giving you any opportunity to come back and try to accuse me of something because you’re bored and want to start some shit. I saw how you destroyed any future employment prospects for the person I replaced, and I’ll be damned if I let you fuck up my employment history.

What will I do now, you ask? Oh, well…while you all were taking three-hour martini lunches and not breathing down my neck, I went and got myself another job. One with a company that’s established and not on the verge of being shut down by the state. Yeah…and it’s in Lawrence, KS, too, which I’m going to enjoy because there’s a ton of nightlife there. But I guess you wouldn’t understand that since this job is your entire existence.

Top Five Songs to Get Busy To

5. Fascination Street - The Cure

4. Get Down Make Love - nin

3. Three Days - Jane's Addiction

2. Erotica - Madonna

1. Closer - nin

Download and show your hook up a good time!

Observations of Indie Rock Shows

While at The Dismemberment Plan/Lake Trout/Paris, TX/Gold Chains show last night, Jason and I developed a handy reference guide to the people you can always find at indie rock shows. Read and enjoy!

The Mod Trio - These are oh-so-hip indie girls, who seem to travel in packs of three. It's hard to say if they really know who they're going to see, because they spend the entire show circulating throughout the club (for what, I'm not sure). There's also a theory that they only showed up because they just bought some new Steve Madden's and have to show them off. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but one of them is always wearing some pair of jeans that is really not flattering to her backside. She probably has a perfectly acceptable ass, but those jeans make it look huge and therefore distracts everyone in disgust.

The Scenester Busybody - Usually a girl, who makes a big show of running back and forth all over the place in the hopes of making everyone think she knows everyone. Typically looks stunningly average - no piercing, no crazy hair dye jobs, no platforms. In fact the only reason you do notice this person is because they're running frantically back and forth "networking." This person also spills at least two drinks on some unwitting indie boy while they do this. At the show last night this person was actually somebody important - a.k.a. the show promoter, but usually it's nobody.

The Holy Sound Guy - You know who I'm talking about - skinny, black hair, beard, glasses, black shirt and jeans, black wrist bands. Nobody in the band can set up their equipment worth shit so he has to do everything himself, which he does with much martyrdom. Also tends to be extremely concerned about say...the keyboard mic, as if the future of the free world depended on it. And he almost always drops something very important and probably incredibly expensive from the sound booth and then tries to blame it on the innocent girl next to the booth drinking a beer. Oh yeah, and he hates every single band. In fact, he's probably in a band that's much cooler than any band that's ever going to play in that club. And what's up with the "in between" music he plays that not a single person on the face of the earth has ever heard before?

The Perpetual Virgins - These are the under 21 geeky idiots who are extremely not impressed with anything. Even if all they came to see was the headlining band, they'll arrive the second the doors open and sit, yes sit, through every single opening band with looks of bland disapproval on their faces. For some reason, these people are always sitting next to me.

The Hecklers - The four or five testosterone-happy guys in the back who are very similar to The Perpetual Virgins except they're not going to take this shit sitting down. They're always there just to see the main headliner, and then only to hear one song ("Play 'Ice of Boston' for the love of fucking Christ!"). Every other band is the worst thing they've ever heard--even if they're not--and they attempt to engage in a verbal sparring match with the lead singer after every song. (Note to lead singers - you will never win this argument. Let it go.) Fortunately, they sit in the back of the club, where no one can see them, and few can hear them. Possibly they do this so the band can't see them and later jump them in the alley after the show?

The Unwilling Participants - Cute ex-cheerleaders dragged there by their boyfriends. They always look terrified, as if the guy with liberty spikes is going to smash their head open with his camera, or just plain pissed off that they're there in the first place, because they could be home watching reruns of Dawson's Creek. At some point, they entice their boyfriends to let them leave early by promising anal sex or something.

The Lonely Girl - You've seen her--the entire time she's there she has no contact with another human being. Why is she there? Was she supposed to meet someone who stood her up? Does she just love one of the bands THAT much?

The "New Arrival" Indie Boy - Now this guy was a frat guy last week, but has seen the light or has completely tapped out the female resources of the greek community and needs to move on to a new scene. Wears the "right" clothes, hangs out with the "right" people, but still obviously looks like he'd been at a Creed concert last week. Can be heard saying something to the effect of "Man...they have a flute player, that's hardcore!", when the week before he would have said "Man...they have a flute player, how gay!"

The Hugger - Can be male or female. It doesn't matter if you saw this person two hours ago, or met them once five years ago...they're damn happy to see you. Even more so because you're in a club with other people. Perhaps it's the good vibes, perhaps it's the alcohol, perhaps it's the oregano they smoked half an hour ago, perhaps they just want a cheap feel. No matter, if they see you, you aren't going to escape without a hug. Addendum to The Hugger: The Person Who Came With The Hugger - they've already been hugged, but they don't know anyone The Hugger is hugging, so they just stand around with their hands in their pockets, smiling while introductions are made, if they're made at all.

The Awkward Fat Guy At The Bar - This guy is usually with a group of friends who are completely ignoring him, so he stands around pretty much pretending to be part of the group, when it's obvious to any observer that he's on the periphery. He's probably a very nice fellow, but he's not cool looking enough for anyone to give him a second thought. He spends most of the night following the group around but eventually mingles in with the crowd at the front of the stage and forgets he's being ignored.


The Hook Up Guys - Not much explanation necessary - if there's alcohol and music around, they're there.

The Random Black Guy With the Gigantic 'Fro - No one's sure why they're there. They're never impressed. Ever.

The Elitist Late 20-somethings - They've been there, done that, probably before you were born. They arrive at the show when the doors open to get a table--sitting nearly the entire time--because usually they're really tired because they have a career or something. They don't really care about the opening bands, and complain fiercely about sitting through them, but once the band has played will grudgingly admit that they are "downloading material." They chain-smoke, editorialize about every single other person in the club, exchange knowing glances during songs, and have a really good time doing it. Normally can be seen wearing clothing that are a little too polished for a show, probably because they came directly from the "adult world" to the club. Do they stay to meet the band or mingle once the show's over? Hell no, they're not that kind of nerdy fan! They've got to be up at 6AM, and somehow hold the entire line-up of bands responsible for making them stay up late.

Ok...we can call the search off...Brian has been found. He's living in a thai opium den. Well, not really. It's Eric, Chris and Chris's apartment. I thought I was going to have to start searching for him in the gay underground railroad or something.

These songs are kicking my ass today:

* "Fazer" Quicksand

* "Sister Ann" MC5

* "Roulette Dares" Mars Volta

* "Lookingglassself" Snapcase (stop laughing!)

* "Billy Jean" Micheal Jackson (it is Father's Day, after all...)

Yet another really cool fest has been announced that I probably won't get to go to because I don't have enough vacation time saved up. Anyway, here's the line up for the Austin City Limits Music Festival.



While you've got your calendar out, you should be aware that there is a huge pro-choice march taking place on April 25, 2004 in Washington, D.C. I urge you to plan on attending, or at the very minimum, spread the word, because by that time there's no telling what reproductive rights we'll have left.

"The Earth is teeming with the human equivalent of spam email. Read/met one, read/met them all. Click "delete." Move on. There's so much to see and do, so many landscapes to explore."

Mac's right, you know...

This is Paul Rudd. He's an actor. He's taking over my life. I'm really serious. Where do I begin...?

I first saw Paul in Wet Hot American Summer like a year ago. By the way, if you have not yet seen that movie, you are a big nerd. I've got it on DVD...just come over sometime and watch it. Anyway, I thought he was pretty funny...nothing earth shattering. Fast forward to a couple of months ago. Jason and I were at Hollywood Video trying to find something to rent, and I picked up 200 Cigarettes and Jason mentioned that Paul Rudd was in it. So we got it, watched it, and were semi impressed. He was good, but the movie was a little bit of a waste of my time. It was about this time strange things started to happen.

Seeing as I thought he was a looker, I decided to do a little research on him, and found out he was from Kansas City...grew up right across the state line from me. Attended KU, all of that. I thought that was a pretty cool coincidence, but wasn't floored or anything. Then, while casually flipping through channels on TV at night, he started showing up everywhere...on The Issac Mizrahi Show, on The Daily Show, on Friends, random gossip shows, etc. If I rented a movie, he was in at least one of the previews. If I opened a magazine, he and his lovely wife were pictured. The guy was everywhere...grinning at me with that charming little smile. I would see him somewhere on average of twice daily. It got a little disturbing. I couldn't get rid of him.

Then last week I was hanging out with my sisters, who were (for some unknown reason) talking about the movie Clueless. I mentioned that Paul was in it, and that he was from Kansas City, and they told me they knew that because they met his dad once. Evidently his father is some fanatic Titanic historian, and goes around giving lectures to local schools, and never fails to mention that his son is some big Hollywood pretty boy. All in all, I was pretty jealous that they're that much closer to Paul than I am. Also, his parents are managers of an apartment complex in Prairie Village...and I'm pretty tempted to rent there just for when he comes home to visit. Sick, eh?

Icing on the cake...I was flipping thought the latest issue of Bitch this weekend. This issue concerns obsessions, and in the editor's letter, they mention that one of their obsessions is Paul Rudd! At least I'm not alone in all of this.

If I ever do run into him out here, I'm going to demand some answers, including some sort of explanation as to why he decided to take a role in "Gen-Y Cops".

This is a transcript of the sermon my two youngest sisters gave this past Sunday for Youth Sunday at their church, Grace and Holy Trinity Episcopal Cathedral. I missed it because I was called in to work for an emergency, and I am really sorry I did. These two kids know what's up. I'm very, very proud of them. I certainly didn't have this much wisdom when I was 15.

Fifth Sunday in Easter - May 18, 2003

By Ginny and Kitty Rice

- Acts 8:26-40 or Deuteronomy 4:32-40
- Psalm 66:1-11 or 66:1-8
- 1 John 3:(14-17)18-24 or Acts 8:26-40
- John 14:15-21

Kitty: "How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses to help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." 1 John 3:18. When Ginny and I were looking through these scriptures earlier this week we realized that this was our one chance to inform adults what typical American teenagers thought.

Ginny: But when we looked closer into this weeks scriptures, this one passage, that we skipped over when first reading, brought back a painful yet unforgettable memory for both of us. Surprisingly, this situation that comes to our minds truly had nothing to do with us but has affected us for the past 6 months.

Kitty: It began on a not so important September day; we had just begun our carrer as freshmen at Lee's Summit High School, fresh from Junior High. Intimidated by the crowds of the 2,500 plus teenagers and the senior boys that were taller than our father, we were trying to act confident and sure while blending in the crowd at the same time.

Ginny: Coming straight from Symphony Orchestra into the cafeteria we were both a little tired and irritable from a class with over 200 kids in it. We stopped at the vending machine with some of our friends and were talking about how Melissa (one of our best friends) had finally broken up with Chris. We got our normal healthy diet of Cheez-Its and a Mr. Pibb to make sure we got our daily dose of caffeine and sugar. Heading towards our social sanctuary (or "lunch table" as the outside world calls it) we were greeted by our fellow freshman and the unfamiliar face of Marissa's newest boyfriend.

Kitty: There were the typical conversations about the recent paper in history, the typical smells of the unknown substances called "cafeteria food", and the typical blank stares coming from the football players. Just an ordinary day in a suburban high school. Suddenly, across the cafeteria there was a burst of laughter loud enough to be heard over the 800 students. Then came an eerie silence.

Ginny: Both Kitty and I are cradle Episcopalians and have always prided ourselves on sticking up for the underdog. When our family moved our membership to this cathedral about four years ago, Christianity landed a bigger role in our lives than ever before. We joined the Youth Group, were confirmed, went to Cliff Springs and Missionpalooza, joined the acolytes and Youth Choir, and became Episcopalians through and through.

Kitty: Missionpalooza was a huge step in our spiritual growth and social activism. Along with Father Ben and 5 other members of the Cathedral Youth Group we hung out with the rest of the Episcopal youth of the metro-area. We cleaned a shelter basement, painted houses, fed the homeless, and talked one-on-one with mothers who were suffering from addictions. The both of us had a glimpse of life outside our sheltered worlds.

Ginny: After Missionpalooza, we decided we would go back to Lee's Summit High School and change it for the better. When we arrived at the high school, as lowly freshman the pressure of conformity was stronger than we ever anticipated. It's social suicide to step out of line. Risk is not a part of a freshman girl's vocabulary.

Kitty: As we sat innocently at our table that day we never guessed that our entire Christian outlook would change in mere minutes. Every eye was focused on the upper-classman area of the cafeteria. We saw David, a freshman boy, standing on top of a table with a numb look on his face. Because it was Spirit Week, which is notorious for freshman hazing, we assumed he was just up there to sing the senior song. But we quickly realized it was not just another harmless prank.

Ginny: Around the table that David was standing on there were about 5 to 6 popular senior boys who were well-known for their dislike of homosexuals and African-Americans. David has been made fun of since the fifth grade for signing his name with hearts and wearing what is considered feminine clothing. The boys surrounding him started whistling, laughing, catcalling, and asking for dates. In high school it is the greatest sin to be different. At that moment, standing on the table without a friendly face in sight, David represented every kid who had ever been an outsider and everything that those boys didn't understand, feared, and consequently hated.

Kitty: In a school where the administrators swoop down on you for holding a rubber band because it is considered a weapon, not one adult made a move to help a 16 year-old boy whose very fabric of being was being shredded to pieces. But this sermon does not only concentrate on David's story, it also concentrates on our story. Not only did the administrators not help, neither did we.

Ginny: A couple of minutes later the bell rang and the cafeteria was empty in seconds, but David's life was changed forever. So was ours. To many in that cafeteria David's humiliation just joined the file of other forgotten teenagers who suffered harassment, but it was imprinted in our hearts and minds. The next day, everything was back to normal and we pretended like everyone else that nothing had happened, but in our hearts we felt just as guilty as the senior boys.

Kitty: This incident haunts us. Jesus stood up against the strong for the weak, but we did not have the courage to stand up against injustice. We kept telling ourselves that if we had time to plan or write a script of some kind we could have faced anything. It was over in a few seconds and then it was to late. Through all the T-shirts, slogans, rings, necklaces, and Christian clubs we all tend to forget that being a Christian is about taking risks.

Ginny: David's experience taught us that persecution is not only on the evening news but in our daily lives as typical suburban students. Jesus calls us to take the scary and sometimes messy path of actively loving other people. "Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." AMEN.