Indecent Proposal: VIII

The passing of Prop 8 (among many other despicable state amendments across the U.S.) in "liberal" California was...well, there aren't really words for it. Thankfully, it makes a Dante's Inferno of a musical.

Necessarily Unnecessary

Blatherscopians, You know how I love me some random. Well, it doesn't get much randomier than this. Keep clicking for new useless facts--You'll be amazed at how much of this crap You may already know.

Spooky Goodness Headin' Your Way

It approacheth! The Medium opens Oct. 22nd, kids. This is gonna be one heck of show, 4-reals. I, who know this show like the back of my hand, was blown away by a rehearsal last week (2 weeks out from opening!). It is terrifying. Please come check us out!

It's the End of the World as We Know It

I always knew Science would usher in Apocalypse! You'd best kiss Your Loved Ones adieu--and hope that they really do Go With God.*

Seriously. Have You hugged YOUR Jesus today?

I know someone who has. She's my new BFF; after all, we're both Vagina Americans, aren't we? (Though not the first.) She's not a Pig**, but is a kind of Pitbull-Barracuda halfbreed***. I know that we're soul mates 'cuz we both think that no one can understand the Lord's Tongue. But what can ya do when the Spirit comes on You?****

*These religions are not approved: see ALL.
**Known for her intelligence.
***Known for her ferocity.
****That is some drrrty.

Can You Contain My Sexy Pulp?

Some things are always lost in translation.

Nobody Makes It Like Mama

From the awesome Fail Blog.

Wanna Take A Trip?

This is some Crazy, folks. The light's direction determines what You'll see.

Joss Is BAAAAACK....

For all you dear Blatherscopians who, like me, adore anything that comes out of the Jossverse, I am the herald of glad tidings! As we bemoan the passing of Buffy and Firefly, and eagerly await the new Dollhouse, Joss has given us a morsel of joy: Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog.

The Future Is...Past

Those Ancient Greeks are always blowin' my mind!

Ode To Joy

Meep.

Becoming A Seeing-Eye Person

This week, I learned that my beloved little dog, Tazar*, is blind. His vision had apparently been worsening, but so slowly that his knuckle-headed owners couldn't put two and two together until too late. In the past few months we noticed him moving slowly, playing less, snarling when our other dog surprise-pounced him, getting under foot more--but it wasn't until he started walking into walls that we thought there might be anything more than Old Age.

I feel horribly guilty. How could I have missed this?

*In full, he is Tazar The Beastmaster.

I'm Giving A Concert!

Come hear me sing some pretties Saturday, May 31 at 7pm at Oregon Culinary Institute (1701 SW Jefferson, Portland)! The event is a benefit for the American Cancer Society Relay For Life, so don't grimace at the $25 ticket price.

I'll be singing some of my favorite arias interspersed with some truly beautiful art song cycles, including the haunting "Bachianas Brasilieras No. 5." And, in case you haven't heard me in a while, I'm really frackin' good. [The sound of her own horn is heard blowing in the distance.]

Ticket sales have been sluggish (I can't believe my fame isn't enough to make people flock to me!), and there is the possibility of cancellation--10 more tickets need to be sold by end of day Monday, May 26. So call! The event organizers can be reached at 503-365-7390.

Tuesdays With Zerd...And "A.I."

Um, have I mentioned how into "American Idol" I've gotten this season? Yup. Totally, nerdily into AI. I like to analyze the singing, the performances, the value of the judges criticisms. But I have never voted. Until tonight.

So, tonight was the final--David Cook vs. David Archuleta. DA is a sweet boy with a sweet voice, but he is not an entertaining or versatile performer; he has a syrupy, old-fashioned taste in music with earnest (sometimes awkward) lyrics. DC, whose vocal timbre is not as immediately beautiful as DA's, has faaaaar more range. DC has some serious musical chops! The boy has a great ear for arrangements that pull You in, in spite of Yourself. DC has stretched himself vocally, musically, and stylistically in ways that DA has not.

But DA, a cutie, nice-boy, 17-year-old, has the teenie-bopper craze going on in a big way.

So I decided to stand up for musical integrity. I have spent the past 3 hours dialing and redialing, voting for DC. I have the phone on my shoulder as I type this. Most of the time I get a busy signal, but I have still managed to log over 60 votes. The AI phone lines close in an hour....

Why I Am So Lame--And Other Interesting Stories For Curious Boys And Girls

The blogging has been lax. I bet one or two of you has noticed this. I have stored up some blog-worthy thoughts, but have been a titch preoccupado. You see, this is now my universe.* I ascended the throne about a month ago, and that throne is sitting on a mountain of hard work that needs a-doin'. I am trying to establish a rhythm that takes less than 12 hours a day, but so far have failed. Wish me luck!

*Does it thrill You the same way it thrills me to see MY name in the "About Us" section? It kinda does, I know; it's OK to admit it.

This Is Some Inspiring Inspiration, Fellow Artists

Ach, I am a softy for stories like this. It helps make me feel like I'm not old as Methuselah, like I haven't already missed the boat to Shangri-La.

Et tu, Luciano?

As if Ashley Simpson hadn't betrayed us enough*, this has just come to light about Pavarotti.

I, for one, am disgusted. Live performance is about The Moment, not pre-recorded perfection! If he wasn't up to it, someone else would have been. The recording industry has done wonders for Historical Preservation--but it is hampering the natural evolution of Serious (aka "Classical") Music to a point of paralysis.

Fuck it.

*Just by attempting to "sing" in the first place.

A Way With Words

The Persian word "mahj" means that someone looks beautiful after a disease; when pregnant women faint, they get their own verb, "tafarrus." "Nakhur" means "a camel who won't give milk until her nostrils have been tickled."

The Japanese term for the phrase, "to break one's heart" (harawata o tatsu) literally translates as, "to sever one's intestines."

The people of Easter Island delineate the stages of babyhood with "kaukau" (a newborn discovering its hands and feet), "puepue" (when the child begins to recognize people and objects), "tahuri" (when it starts the side-to-side baby roll), "totoro" (crawling), and "mahaga" (standing by itself).

When a Chinese person is so happy with something that they can barely refrain from fondling it, they are experiencing "ai bu shi shou."

The Tok Pisin of Papau New Guinea call a beard "gras bilong fes"--"grass belonging to the face."

After the invention of the computer, the French assigned a translative ("ordinateur") because the English word sounded like "con" and "pute"--meaning "vagina" and "whore", respectively.

Albanains have 27 words for eyebrows and an additional 27 words for mustaches.

For other wonderful words from around the world, check out The Meaning of Tingo and Other Extraordinary Words from Around the World by Adam Jacot de Boinod.

Heartin' Hillary In Hillsboro

Last night I got the call: Hillary needed me. She was coming to town (my wee hamlet, actually; about 25 minutes west of Portland) to speak. Could I please be on hand at 6:30 the next morning?

I think Y'all know my answer.

I agonized over what to wear--I have red OR white OR blue articles of clothing, but not a lot that mixes the three; I wasn't sure if I should dress to impress or to slop down the hogs. After much mulling, I opted for a classic, no-fuss look: tailored black pants, royal blue empire-waisted blouse, simple silver jewelry, my hair wound into a perfect-for-any-occasion bun. I had fantasies of, after telling organizers what my day-job was, being asked to sing the National Anthem.

Instead, about 60 of us volunteers passed out information request sheets to the waiting crowd. I decided spirit-raising was also part of my duties, so I went around leading impromptu cheers. It was cold and rainy, but the folk kept on comin'; the line twisted around the entirety of Liberty High School and through the back parking lot. One enterprising man hawked silly Hillary buttons while another gal set up a T-shirt shop. The throngs may have grown even longer, but, at 8 a.m. on the nose, all the volunteers were herded through a side-door and given the Secret Security* screening of a lifetime.

I always like to travel lightly when I know I'm about to smooshed into a tightly confined space for several hours, so I had only a black leather wallet (with wrist strap--take THAT, potential cut-purses!), but You should have seen the way they examined each receipt, card, and zippered cranny! Thankfully, I left my Gin-zu knives at home, so no problems.

I got a grrrreat seat on the aisle, 4th row up on the bleachers facing the camera brigade. Then it was time to wait. I bonded with the three other women around me: two middle-aged professionals who were almost giddy with excitement ("I've waited my whole life for this!" exclaimed one. "What are the chances that another woman with Hillary's qualifications will run in my lifetime?"), and a young Latina girl who will be a month too young to vote in November ("But that's why I'm working so hard for her now; I don't want to be powerless under other voter's mistakes anymore."). We waited so long that the (presumably official) soundtrack started repeating. I was encouraged to see how many men were there, especially young men, but my favorites were the double-row of extremely elderly women wearing t-shirts with shakily hand-printed lettering that read, "Hillary is the change the world needs NOW!" A young mother taped a sign to her newborn's back that proclaimed, "Born a Democrat!" Buttons spouted "A woman's place is in the house, the senate, and the Oval Office!" There was the unmistakable frisson of conviviality.

Suddenly, she was there. Hillary. Rodham. Clinton. There was a rush of emotion in the gym that rivaled the noise; many women around me were wiping their eyes while they continued to wave signs and scream. Hillary was introduced by 6-time elected Oregon Congresswoman Darlene Hooley and 2nd-term Governor Ted Kulongoski, who are wonderful people in their own right, but wisely kept the remarks brief and left the floor to Clinton.

What immediately struck me about Hillary was that she genuinely seemed to be listening to every thing the other speakers said--no upstaging, no fake posing, but an avid respect for everyone around her. For someone with such a chilly reputation, she exuded warmth, compassion, and integrity. Her oration skills are impressive, but even more impressive was the depth, range, and specificity of her knowledge that emerged during the Q/A. She KNEW about Oregon--issues, values, and people--and was able to telescope questions about Health Care, No Child Left Behind, the Energy Crisis, the Economy, even the looming Water Crisis.

She is the Real Deal, folks.

P.S. If You look at the photo from the rally, in the left-hand there is a sign that read, "We need U Hillary"; my face is directly behind that sign. Yup. That lady kept holding that damn sign in front of my frackin' face.

*It was fascinating to watch the Agents work--they really do scan every face in the crowd, evaluate and memorize it, then move on. The one I was watching appeared to be about my age, early 30s. When did I get old enough to be eligible for such grown-up responsibilities!!!??

The First Flower Of Spring Is...

...A tulip! I am a black-thumb gardener, so whenever something purty pokes its adventurous head from the soil in my yard, I am ecstatic. Absolutely ecstatized!

My tulip is a blushing pink tinged with a milky-whiteness. It makes my heart grow.

Free Hugs! Pass 'Em On

Yesterday, strolling down 10th Ave in glorious springy Portland weather, a nice, normal-looking young woman stepped off the streetcar carrying a GIGANTIC orange balloon with the words "FREE HUGS" sharpied onto it. I watched one person grinningly duck away from Balloon Girl before she turned toward me. I stretched my arms as widely as they would reach and hugged for dear life. Neither of us said a word; our smiles said it all.

Consider Yourselves hugged, and pass it on.

Am I Less of a Feminist Because I Fold My Husband's Underwear?

Lately I've been struggling between Who I Think I Am (Or Want To Be) and Who I Am (In Practice). The Ideal recently espoused, "Women who turn their backs on the higher education and training they received in order to become housewives and stay-at-home mothers are immoral; they are acting to re-enforce the harmful gender stereotypes that Society has built its values upon." The Actual, with multiple diplomas in hand, spends half of everyday doing housework--partly because I enjoy it (well, certain aspects of it), and partly because my Elbow Grease is what I have the most to give to my life with Hubba-Bubba; Hubs contributes primarily through financing this operation we call Our Life Together.

I can sense my Blatherscopians bristling, some of You at the Ideal, others at the Actual, both groups questioning how-on-earth-are-we-friends. I, Your Zerd, am equally perplexed at myself.

I do believe that women too carelessly abandon the Career Path in favor of traditional roles. Wait a minute, some thoughtful person may say. Someone needs to look after the children, right? Someone needs to keep things clean. And Motherhood is not Not Working; it's the hardest job there is! By all means, dear Readers, Parenthood is Important--healthful parenting is vital to Society. I have no problem with any person who makes the active choice to spend their time creating loving relationships* with the Next Generation; what I have a problem with is The Path Of Least Resistance.

I am, however, a Realist. I understand fully that the Structure of modern America does not value Children or Family**; it values Money. The Working World is not family-flexible, and so a Sacrifice is demanded--Your Money or Your Life! You can have a job that supports Your family, but You often have to surrender the better part of Your day, leaving before 7 a.m. and coming home after 6 p.m. That leaves, what, 2-3 hours of Family Time before the bambinos are packed into bed. How frustrating. How alienating. Or You can eschew the Big Bucks and snuggle up to the Wee Ones but have no outlet for Your individual interests. How frustrating. How stifling.

When people are ensnared in this terrible Catch-22 they look for the clearest way out, and Society shines a shiny spotlight on the entrance to The Path Of Least Resistance. Grateful for an option, women and men unthinkingly stumble onward.

It is this lack of thought that breeds immorality. For how can it be moral to perpetuate gender roles that issue from antiquated Property Rights? Is it moral to subconsciously communicate that a woman's proper sphere is domestic? This happens when children witness an inequitable division of labor around the house, rather than a team camaraderie: boys grow up believing they must work outside the home, while girls grow up believing that they may work outside the home, but home-based activities are "natural." That "may" will be tested by Family's economic realities and often crumple in the face of the male imperative of "must." That "must" translates to "money", and those who control the money control the Society.

It is immoral that half of the population is afflicted by the ignorance that comes from dominance, and that the other half of the population is cowed away from any action that challenges dominance. The problem with dominance is that it births complaisance with the status quo which leads to a sense of entitlement which leads to oppression. It is what leads the Money-Makers to think they can impose rules upon the Nurturers; it is what leads the Money-Makers to a sense of ownership.

Women too easily say, "My job won't let me work flexible hours in order to take care of my kids, so I guess I have to quit." Men too easily overlook the responsibility for relationship they agreed to when they decided to help create another human being, returning to the refrain, "It makes sense for her to quit her job; I make more money." Money and Relationship must find balance.

So how can I say all this and yet spend much of my day as a Hillsboro Hausfrau? How can I justify Husband = Breadwinner, Wife = Hearth & Home? I don't know if I can justify it. But I can explain it.

When we decided to try to "spend the rest of our lives together," we faced a choice: how do we live together? As a performer, I was the lowest fiscal denominator; Hubs, wonderful computer wizard that he is, could provide handsomely for himself--AND for me. In his great generosity, Hubbers decided to give me an amazing gift: the gift of true artistic freedom; the gift of eating salad and steak instead of Top Ramen; the gift of not having to work some crap part-time job just to contribute equally to household accounts. He placed no stipulations on his gift; I could accept his gift because of the deep abiding trust I have in him. This way I was free to travel to auditions, to work with the very best coaches and teachers, and to spend hours a day perfecting my [a] vowel.

This also means that I work mostly from home. Surrounded by home everyday, some home cares are likely to creep into the consciousness. A lot of cares, actually. I am a weeeee bit OCD. I like things the way I like them. I have a pretty, graceful home; I need things to be neat and tidy or they disrupt my concentration. This includes laundry hamper smells--and once I have thrown clothes in the washer, I might as well dry them, then fold/hang them. Tackling the daily house tasks alone frees evening time for me and Hubbers to PLAY!

I love Our Life Together.

*But it is bullshit to call Parenthood a "job." That terminology undermines the importance of Relationship and stresses the unreality of Investment Dividend. Marriage is not a job; parenting is not a job; both are relationships, and losing sight of that causes dissatisfaction and strife. I am not saying this is easy; relationships require nurturing, which can be harder than anything One anticipated beforehand.
**It seems, too, like a family is only a Family when children are present; I can't tell you how many times I have had the following conversation: "Well, I need to get home to my family." "I didn't realize you had children!" "Um, I don't. I mean my husband and my dogs." "Oh, your husband. So, you're a Couple, not a Family."

"Half This Game Is Ninety-Percent Mental"

Thank you, Mr. Yogi Berra, for summing up the World of Physical Activity so beautifully. For me, this is especially true at 5:55 (in der Fruehe, Leute! Jawohl), when my alarm goes off. Each morning I lay wrapped in my faux-downy comforter and debate with Myself [cue The Clash]: should I stay or should I go now? Bed is so alluring...but so are new clothes! That little Promise is just the Carrot that This Horse needs to jog on.

And jog on I have. Since my "I-don't-have-to-be-perfect, but-I-do-need-to-be-healthy" Epiphany, I have lost 14 pounds--a pound a week. This life is proving to be sustainable, and I feel so much healthier, both physically and mentally. However, I am still struggling against rushing the process: I want to see the results of all my work NOW!!! I feel particularly frantic after an audition for which I sang well, performed well, and was funny--but am too "big" for the role. For some reason, this news almost sent me into a Fuck-U Slump--You know, the kind of Slump where You show "The Man" how wrong They were by proceeding to do the very behavior that kept You from Your Goal in the first place. [cue Borat]: Suc-ah-CESS! For me, that Slump looks like a whole lot o' sleepin' and watchin' crappy TV movies.

Thankfully, though, my hatred of ants came to my rescue. Yes, Blatherscopians, I will now admit what many have long wondered: Anger spurs me on! You see, the weather has been sooo warm, sooo sunny, sooo lovely, the ants have come marching 2 x 2 looking for food. I went into Full Freak-Out Mode, cleaned my kitchen from zip to zap, and had enough adrenaline left over to spend at the gym.

It* is a Magical Land: no matter how tired or grumpy or blah I feel going into the gym, I feel exhilarated coming out, ready to face those damn ants.

*I love all the little old ladies at the Rec Center. My favorite moment was watching two biddies walk away from the showers, one with a cane, the other with a wheeled-walker, both with age-dimpled butt cheeks sagging over the tops of their legs. Wonderful!

"Bitch is the New Black"

I missed the return of SNL this past Saturday, but thank g*d Broadsheet was watching, otherwise we wouldn't have Tina Fey's insightful ribbing of Hillary. Pop on over for the video clip.

A Good Cause

All this takes is about 3 minutes of Your time; the group Five for Fighting has pledged $1.00 per view to Autism Speaks. Please consider investing those 180 seconds in the future of an autistic child.

Word of the Day--It's A Tie

Jank
As in:

Jank-ass ride

Craxy
The "X" is for extra crazy.

Thank you, Urban Dictionary, for existing.

Was Jesus White Enough to Be a Christian?

How to even begin unraveling this tangled snarl of Fear?

As spring approaches, certain conservative Christian groups* are preparing for winter--Demographic Winter! These groups believe that the "Western Europe" is committing Demographic Suicide by permitting contraception ("abortifacients"), by support of GLTB rights (no support for anyone not capable of creating babies!), and by "undermining" women's natural rights: "Above all, we believe in rights that recognize women's unique gifts of pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding."** They have begun major campaigns to "save" society as they see it. And the society they see is predominantly white.

In the current issue of The Nation (brief video summary), Kathryn Joyce examines the issues put forth by the World Congress of Families in her article, "Missing: The 'Right' Babies" (entire article reprinted via AlterNet). Ms. Joyce adroitly juxtaposes Conservative concern over Europe's negative population growth with Europe's xenophobia--no immigrant birthrate data is factored into a country's Total Fertility Rate, despite the fact that unnaturalized immigrants count for 1/8th of Europe's total current population and between 60% and 80% of the inhabitant population growth. Immigrants to Europe are largely comprised of Africans, Middle Easterners, and Asians; and 25-32 million of these immigrants are Muslim. White Christians, those bastions of Western cultural heritage, are dying out.***

So, to sum up, non-Caucasians do not count; there is no real "assimilation" of culture and the melding of different cultures is a ridiculous idea****, so the "melting pot" idea is dead; being born in Europe isn't enough to make you a European, even if your native tongue is the language of the country in which you were born; people who don't want/can't make babies "naturally" are Bad. But we should still let the foreigners come so that no Citizen has to sully themselves by supporting a family on a Shit Job.

What ever happened to Christians believing Jesus when he said: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?...Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Or this gem: "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."*****

*Such as the James Dobson's Focus on the Family organization, the Catholic Population Research Institute, the non-denominational Alliance for the Family and Family First Foundation, conservative Think Tank The Howard Center, and current Presidential adviser (and Nixon confidante) Chuck Colson.

**Quote from The Natural Family Manifesto -- co-written by Paul Mero, head of the Mormon Think Tank the Sutherland Institute, and Allan Carlson, an evangelical academic.

***Many European governments are doing their best to stimulate the birth of Natural Nationals: Sweden tried to provoke copulation with their "Fuck for the Future" campaign; a province in Russia made September 12 a "Day of Conception" holiday--anyone who gave birth 9 months later won a car or a fridge; Italy is giving monetary bonuses for each child born and offering a "salary subsidy" to women who agree to be stay-at-home mothers--they were embarrassed, however, when they accidentally handed out checks to immigrant families and had to repossess the funds.

****Even though cultures have melded for millenia as various peoples have been forced by famine, wars, etc., to migrate and encounter new groups/languages/customs. Oh well, what kind of proof is that?

*****Matthew 6:25, 34 and 7:1-5

Happy S.A.D.!*

If only Chaucer knew what he was starting with this 1382 couplet** about couples:
For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.***

Chaucer, horny poet that he was, had no idea that his simple tie-in of the typical February fertility rituals with a feast for St. Valentine of Rome would spawn thousands of cards, millions of roses, billions of chocolates (undiscovered in his time), and trillions of dollars over the next few centuries. He surely would have opted for profit-sharing.

*Singles' Awareness Day.
**Ol' Geoff was just trying to kiss up to the king, Richard II, who was celebrating his one-year anniversary to Anne of Bohemia; Their Royal Majesties were 15.
***In regular English: "choose" his "mate." Even birds were paternalistic.

Yeow! I Feel Good (I Knew That I Would)

Do You ever have a Day when You just feel GOOD? For moi, that Day is this Day. I am nauseatingly cheerful. I feel like every part of me has been ministered to this morning: I got my Exercise on at a Bright and Early 6 Of The Clock--and my Honey Bun joined me!* As I rode the Chub off my Curves, I read the most delightful children's book, The Family Under The Bridge by Natalie Savage Carlson.** The story is so wonderfully compassionate without being preachy, full of interesting and unusual characters, and a Happy Ending that never feels forced or obvious. When I finished, my heart felt Full.

And then I went to work on my voce.

Vocally, things that I have struggled toward for a Long Time are beginning to happen: my clumsy muscles are gaining Discipline, my tongue has been chastened from the Distortion of Vowels, and I am learning when (and how) to relax.*** These Actions have only been vaguely glimpsed Ideas before now; a sense of Accomplishment, Hope, and Relief are bubbling just under my skin. I feel like I have just been handed The Key to The Secret Garden.****

*I do love to see that man sweat. Hot, hot, hot.
**Which reminds me that I have neglected my Book Reviews shamefully. STBR! (Soon To Be Rectified)
***I apologize to any of my Non-Singer Readers for whom this is Techno-Gibber. If You, poor bored person, desire to gain an Inkling of Insight, let Your Zerd know and I will prat on about Music and the Muse in a Future Post.
****Which is another fine children's book, just in case You didn't know.

Tie Me Up, Big Boy

'Nuff said.

Be sure to check out all of the action-packed vintage mystery covers--You're in for some doozies!*

*A big thanks to SiLLee for pouring a big helpin' of cheese all over my day.

Diet Soda Makes Us Fat

Aw, krap. This sux.*

Now that I've depressed You, let me help cheer You up: this video is carb-o-licious fun.**

*Yes, yes; I understand that researchers do not yet know if it is the soda or the lifestyle, but--yeesh!--it is the difference between hell-fire and brimstone to me.

**Much thanks to The Tsipa for enriching my life with this magnificent Work Of Art.

Heartin' Hil All The Way To The Hill

"I want to thank all my friends and family, particularly my mother, who was born before women could vote, and is watching her daughter on this stage tonight."

-- Presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, Super Tuesday night.

Take A Bow, Piano

What do You get when You mix fishing line, Popsicle sticks, plumbing tape, ten musicians, and a grand piano? Stephen Scott's Bowed Piano. For centuries the piano has been treated as if--Eureka!--the perfect instrument had been constructed, no changes necessary. It is an unchallenged entity, like gravity. Thus people who look at the world in new ways, who challenge the existing conditions/uses/theories, excite my imagination--the hope of What Could Be trumps the concrete That Which Is.

The variance of sounds in Mr. Scott's bowed piano is amazing: there is a pure adherence to the pitch fundamental usually found in electronically manipulated wave lengths, yet the instrument remains a sustaining percussion piece that reminds One of the classical Chinese qin.*

In other words, it is veryveryvery cool, and I dig it.

*Hop on over to the NPR site for a video clip and 3 music clips of one of only 2 instruments in the world that requires a team to play it. Challenge: if any one can tell me what the other instrument is, I will bake them brownies.

Happy Super Fat Tuesday!

In honor of Mardi Gras, today was all about Decadent Cuisine in Zerd Werld. Oh! The Yummies! Lamb Osso Buco, anyone? Savory Chicken Salad? Or perhaps a creamy Carmel Pecan Tart? Tomorrow all those boisterous calories will turn to Ash* on my hips, but today is for Richness of Flavor.

I am getting a bit of a workout this evening, however, with all the Election Buzz. Oh! The Excitement! Super Tuesday has never before seemed to This Humble Personage quite so elevated** a competition. [Sound of hunting horns in the distance. In terribly false British manor accent:] What ho! The Game's a-foot!

*And by "ash" I mean "fat, fat, fat."
**I do love my puns, lame as they are.

I'm Glad I Didn't Have Money Riding On It

I love it when The Underdog wins. I really do. David 'n Goliath-like sports flicks always make me weepy.* But I am much too pragmatic** to have faith in The Little Guy; I would never bet on the chance of an upset. I guess the moral of this story is: don't bet, period, and Your money will always be safely tucked in Your wallet.***

*Once I got carried away and started yelling for "my team" in the theater. My brother punched me in the knee to get me to shut up. To be fair, I was only 8.
**Read: "cynical."
***In case You are so out-of-touch that You have No Idea to what I am referring, see here.

The REAL Super Bowl

Do You hate football*? Do You like football, but wish it could be cuter, fluffier, and sillier? Animal Planet has the solution for You: Puppy Bowl! Whether You're rooting for Jackson, Bruin, Kala, or Cody, the action is sure to be adorable. Click here for video highlights from past events.

*As do I, Zerd, and all other Readers of Marked Intelligence.

Happy Groundhog's Day!

Damn that shadow. According to Punxsutawney Phil's very own official website, we are due to 6 more weeks of cccold. As if to prove Phil right, G*d opened the heavens and dumped one whole inch of snow in my backyard.*

But I shall have my revenge...stew-style. Yes, ladies and laddies, step right up! Be the very first** to try our array of groundhog patties, lard-pie, fried groundhog de-lite, and my personal favorite, fricasseed. (It just sounds so French.)

If, however, Your bleeding heart decries the notion of finger-lickin'-good rodent, You can click here to download wallpapers, sound clips, and factoids (which, I warn You, may or may not be true, as we have pretty clear evidence that the creatures have some sort of "in" with G*d, who is a notorious System-Rigger.)

*Scoff if You want, Midwesterners. But snow? In the Willamette Valley? This close to the ocean? That's just crazy talk!

**By "the very first," I imply, "the very first people with college educations." Obviously these recipes have been enjoyed as delicacies by Red-Necks for generations.

Don't Be A (Double) Dip

Vindication! I have strenuously objected to those communal grazers who, in their haste for more great taste, pollute the pot for the Rest Of Us. I have been scoffed, mocked, snubbed, and given The Eye for voicing my disgust--I'm sorry if I'm crampin' your style, yo, but you are diz-gusting! And now I have proof.

"On average, the students found that three to six double dips transferred about 10,000 bacteria from the eater’s mouth to the remaining dip.

"Each cracker picked up between one and two grams of dip. That means that sporadic double dipping in a cup of dip would transfer at least 50 to 100 bacteria from one mouth to another with every bite."

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

Dr. King is one of my heroes; my words are a poor homage, so I will let him speak for himself (click here to actually hear him speak):
"We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children....

"And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

"I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

"I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

"I have a dream today!

"I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

"I have a dream today!

"I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."²

"This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

"With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

"And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

"And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true."

For more information on Dr. King, click here.

How Can I Keep From Singing?

I take music for granted; I can sing any time, any place that I want. These Afghan women must secret away their love of song, hide from police when practicing, and perform anonymously (if given a chance to sing at all). Their choice is silence and life, or music and death. They are wiling to risk all for their art. Click here for information on the Afghan Music Project.

Every time I sing from now on, I will be lending my voice to the thousands of women who have none of their own.

The Fantastical Voyage of U.S.A. Enterprise

Good news! Women now run/own a third of all small business in the U.S.

Bad news: Congress had to pass a law in order to make sure that even a measly 5% of available government contracts would go to women entrepreneurs.

Good news! Government contracts spread $40 billion across 140 industries every year.

Bad news: Female-run businesses have a limited earning potential of $3 million per contract, up to $2 billion total.

More bad news: Out of 140 possible industries, only 4 may be influenced in selection by gender--National Security & International Affairs, Coating & Engraving, Furniture & Cabinet Making, and Motor Vehicles.

Even more bad news: The majority of revenue generated by small business contracts is concentrated in 4 other industries--Manufacturing, Real Estate, Health Care, and Waste Management.

The silver lining: Women are not shut out from competing for contracts in the other 136 industries, they just aren't giving a "helping hand."

What inspired this post: This article in the NY Times.

Other sources: S.B.A., this, and this.

But I Already Threw The First Stone...

Dearest Blatherscopians, You know how enthralled I, Zerd, am by Language and Words, by the fineness of Meaning teased out from careful reading, and by the heady Power that comes from wielding such precision. I am a stickler for Exactness--a word nerdiness, if You will permit me such levity.

Imagine my chagrin to discover that while I have been saying "plentitude", the word is "plenitude."* I hang my head in shame.

*As in: The overflowing plenitude of my breasts inflames the desires of all who gaze upon them.

Fear and Loathing in D.C., or Is This Person Actually Qualified to Run for President of the USA?

Copied verbatim from Salon.com's poly blog,War Room:

Huckabee: Amend Constitution for God

A month after Mitt Romney declared that "freedom requires religion," Mike Huckabee is explaining his desire for constitutional amendments outlawing abortion and same-sex marriage in starkly religious terms.
At a campaign event in Michigan Monday night, Huckabee said that he supports such amendments because "it's a lot easier to change the Constitution than it would be to change the word of the living God."
"What we need to do," he said, "is to amend the Constitution so it's in God's standards rather than trying to change God's standards so it lines up with some contemporary view of how we treat each other and how we treat the family."

Wow.

The Wonderful (White) World Of Disney

This leaves me speechless*. Be sure to read through a smattering of the "insightful" comments.

*Much thanks to Deeluxegal for alerting me and providing a link.

'Atta Girl, Hil!

As all devoted Blatherscopians know, Hillary is my gal. I firmly believe she is the best leader for our country in the wake of Herr President Bush. She has a mighty mind and clear voice; not only does she have a coherent Plan, but she understands what it takes to accomplish aforesaid Plan.* She is not girly, but don't make the mistake of confusing "girl" with "woman"--'cuz she is the Modern Woman. Anyone** who discounts her as "someone who can't run their own household" because of Bill's promiscuity doesn't know a damn thing about Human Nature, so they sure as hell can't identify what kind of Integrity it takes to not only keep a marriage going, but also heal and truly forgive. She puts the "guts" in "gutsy."

I am so proud of how well she did in New Hampshire and, yes, Iowa. I can't wait to see how she wins the rest of America over. But if I hear one more so-called journalist ask voters if their vote was influenced by the "tears in the diner" incident, [said in terrible faux-Italian accent] I'm-a gon-na scream-a! A) What kind of moron is more influenced by Emotion than by Ideas, Ideals, and Intellect? B) Does such as person have the requisite Mental Power to actively distinguish between Parties, Politicians, and Politicos? Or would they be stumped by a neon-rimmed Hole-In-The-Ground? C) How is this Journalism? Or have Folk been so overwhelmed by News that they can no longer separate the two?***

Okay, enough of the Hillary- and Billary- blather. [Dramatic pause.] For now. I have a salad that won't make itself waiting for me down in the kitchen. Later, skaters!

*Don't get me wrong: every word out of her mouth is not gold to me. But she has convinced me in the past, and may convince me in the future, and that says sumpthin', y'all, 'cuz I am gol-durn stubborn!

**Thank you, Michelle Obama.

***Click here for Tom Brokaw setting Chris Matthews straight on the differences. Suh-nap! It gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my innards.

Every Time A Bell Rings, A Walrus-Angel Gets Its Wings

Because I believe in God 34% more than You do, I thought the least I could do would be to share this Opus comic with You.

Heretics.

Happy New Year!

Technik'ly I'm a day late for such felicitous wishes, I know. I do apologize. I have been a bit behind lately, as I believe the neglect of my dear Blatherscopians illustrates. But the Universe is righting itself, and humble I am taking my rightful place in it.

Christmas was a blur--sleeping, blowing snot out my nose, more sleeping, drinking tea, streaming snot out my nose, yet more sleeping, singing, even more sleeping. If it sounds like I was sick, then Your powers of deduction have not failed. I did, however, manage to put in a solid 30 hours of singing, 10 hours of fancy-food making, and appear at 4 holiday gatherings. I am pretty sure that I grossed-out everyone I encountered along the way (too much snot; waaay too much snot), but I don't really remember: my head was a-swim in Fuzz.

The Blessing of Sickness at Christmas was that I had no taste buds. None. Therefore, I had no desire for food. And as I have been working out regularly since the week before Thanksgiving, I managed to lose 6 pounds over the vacation. It was a Christmas Miracle! And, as Deeluxegal pointed out, losing weight at a time when EVERYONE gains due to holiday binging is "really" like losing 10 pounds! Deeluxegal, I like the way you calculate.

As most of You know, I am no longer the lithe figure of Ladyhood I was when I was 21; over the course of 9 years I packed 80 more pounds to my poor frame. The first 15 pounds or so might have crept up on me, but in practice I have not been blind to the growing corpulent Bloat swallowing my body. Twice I tried insta-shedding the poundage (to some success), but I had not actually changed ME, and so the Globulence seeped back. I am a bit (ahem) of a Perfectionista. This has been a problem for healthy weight loss, because I could not see some loss of weight as any kind of success--it had to all come off (and fast! 3 hours a day on the treadmill, minimum) or I was just another Fatso, doomed to a life of fatty fatness on my faaaat aaaassss.

And then: Epiphany! Every little bit counts. This is true of food, exercise, and amount of weight lost. I have not been able to believe this, EVER.* I feel so free. Even if it takes me 9 more years to lose all the unhealthy weight I have been carrying around, that's OK, Slow and Steady wins the race. Thank you, Ms. Tortoise.

*Chalk another fracked-up mindset to my Fundie upbringing--failure sends you to Hell! You don't try to be good, you ARE good or you go to Hell! If you can't change your mind/heart/body, you are still letting Sin and Satan control your life and you will go to Hell! If you do not believe EXACTLY the same thing I do at the same time I do, I am more spiritually mature than you are and you might go to Hell! A Christian does not admit doubts or fears, because they shouldn't have any! Go to Hell!