What a way to start a Phd!!

Well, I'm sitting in the Syracuse airport ready to go home. And I"m ready to go home....

BUT with that said, I have had an amazing time in Syracuse, met some amazing friends- who are as close to me as family- and have met someone amazing- and I've learned many lessons- if you have to convince yourself about something- it's not worth it- PhD is a process, and you have to be patient- you will always have roadblocks to what you want to achieve- how badly you want to achieve something is determined by how hard you want to work to reduce those obstacles. 

Well- those are my thoughts for now- heading on the plane in about 20 minutes- more reflection might come- but really- I am at a good place in life and could't feel any more happy and content with things :)

 

Yes, I am alive--

more than alive- i've been too busy living life (as a human and as a phd student) to update- this is my obligatory "I haven't forgotten about this blog" post :)

Insomniacic* Ramblings

One Question: Are we just prolonging the inevitable collapse of our economic system? Passing the buck to the Next (my) generation? 

Unfortunately, I do believe that we are just prolonging the inevitable depression that will come. There is a need to revolutionize our economy- and politics. Our economy has followed the path of endless accumulation for too long- endless accumulation without real fiscal assets to back it up. We trade in credit and debt. All we need now is China to call us on our debt.

What I would not give to sit in the public gallery when Congress is in session, and harangue our lawmakers for their petty childishness: "STOP BLAMING EACH OTHER- YOU ARE BOTH TO BLAME!!! And then be arrested for not maintaining decorum. At least I would have a clear conscience. And of course, the alternative is to write a letter to my senator/rep- but I know how that will end up- opened by an intern, read, and filed, with a standard return: "The Senator appreciates your letter of concern..." This is OUR democracy, excuse me, Republic- paying lip service to make you FEEL as if your voice/opinion can make a difference or change. But what should I have expected- our Founding Fathers created this political system to prevent the tyranny of the majority- aka the unlanded masses- to favor the (tyranny) of the minority- wealthy, landed gentry. 

So as you can tell- I'm frustrated- the economic situation we are in now has had its symptoms since 1999- what we did not learn is that you cannot base value and worth upon intangible items/goods/consumables/commodities- dot.coms (in that case), credit (today).

Screw this, I'm moving to Canada.

On another note- if he can't be president, can we at least make Ron Paul some kind of economic advisor?? (Yeah, I know its from Fox News, but Ron Paul wasn't really interviewed by too many people) 

And here Ron Paul schools Bernanke- now I can't say I agree with Austrian Economics- well, maybe in Domestic affairs, but it is a system that requires COMPLETE free markets- which, as seen from history, is not possible.

*Yes, I did make up my own word- ha.

Ramadan

Today marks the first day of Ramadan, and I have made the decision to observe- as a way to learn more (through experience (There is only so much you can read from books....)) about Islam and as a sign of solidarity, but also a way to re-center myself spiritually. 

Just in one day's time of fasting - I feel a greater awareness about my conduct in the world and my conduct with others. The whole month of Ramadan is a time of greater reflection and prayer- and certainly- I feel those effects.

When I feel hungry- I begin to think of those who go hungry for days on a normal basis. About the current food crisis we have, the environmental destruction of corporate farming, and the human cost of the same.

When I feel thirsty- I remember those who have to walk miles each day to procure the water they need for their daily meals, or stand in lines to have access to a clean drinking source, or even those who are forced to drink water that is inadequate.

And when I feel the temptation to break the fast- I realize how weak I am, vain, and selfish. That God provides the strength, will, and compassion that I need. I also think about the times I have been too headstrong, stubborn, prideful.... And realize that all that I have is because of God.

Ramadan Kareem !

Damn you Derrida!

You know you might be a little out of touch with the thought processes of other people when, in the course of writing the curriculum for a women's leadership conference- with a section entitled "How and When to Challenge the Culture" you want to write about postmodern feminism and deconstruction. 

Damn you Derrida!!

Random Thoughts When Waiting for my Laundry to get Done

* I'm anxious for school to start- I feel my brain has rotted over the summer.
* I'm scared about starting over- new place, new school, new degree
* I'm excited about this new opportuity.
* I'm worried I might get sick by the beginning of classes (boo!)
* I'm wondering what this random smell is- it smells like something mechanical/burning.
* I'm having a splitting headache- I hope it's not allergies.
* I'm going to be the uncouth person to hoard free food for the next week.
* I have a lot of stuff to do.
* Will I get paid in time to pay my rent?
* When am I getting that refund check......?
*Why is my laundry taking so bloody long...?
*SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

THE CHRONICLES OF THE GREAT MIGRATION NORTH- The story of a Misplaced Texan

When I first moved to Virginia, I thought, hey, no problem, Virginia is still in the south- I could still get sweet tea and Dr. Pepper, but the friendliness of Texas just was not matched. So now, here I am in New York.

The drive up from D.C. was gorgeous, but, I realized what a change this would be for me when I crossed the proverbial Mason-Dixon line between Maryland ad Pennsylvania. I have to admit, I shed a few tears. Good bye my beloved Sunny South. Hello dreary winters and God knows what else- the North.

On the way up, I stopped for a 30 minute tour of Gettysburg- after getting lost- so that put me a bit behind, but it was still nice to go and see Seminary Ridge, where my great great great grandfather got shot (wounded). Again, making me realize how deep my roots in the south go- he was a Confederate soldier with the 8th Louisiana.

But I kid- I really am not that hardcore of a Southerner- I just realize that this move to Syracuse might be even more of a culture shock than the move to Blacksburg, VA. I have yet to see- I have my TA orientation today. (woo………) On the up-side- there will be free food- and I might even be the uncouth person that brings tupper ware (hey! I have no food at home yet and still have to figure out where the grocery store is!)

More chronicles in my journey will follow later. For now, enjoy installment one. (And also, better internet connection that I am not having to steal....God willing....)

Two Years

I am approaching my two year mark here in Blacksburg, and as I do, I also approach the end of my time here. I have to say that there was a part of me that was going to miss it here- but then again, there are parts of me that are realizing that I am really outgrowing this place.

For the first year I was here, I mostly spent it missing home and my friends back in Texas. Yet, I met some of the most amazing people I know. It was a hard first year- between really moving far from the familiar, leaving behind people who really knew and understood me- and starting a relationship that in retrospect, proved to be a cause for so much of my poor reflection on Blacksburg and Virginia Tech.

During my second year here, I really made a bond with the people in my program and came to realize who my real friends here were- those who knew me best- and did not judge me for my inadequacies. I feel that my second year at Tech was a bit of a liberation for me and a slow reassertion of who I was. April 11, 2008 was a bit of a D-Day of sorts and a culmination of that reassertion- and taking back of my own life, after so much emotional and psychological abuse.

This summer has perhaps been the best time I have had here in Blacksburg- the slower pace, the ability to hang out and meet with more friends- has certainly been a nice change of pace. And of course- finding out what it really means to be appreciated and cared for also helps brighten the days all that much more. :)

My time at Virginia Tech has definitely been a learning experience. At this time last year, I don't think I realized this (actually, I distinctly remember crying about the fact I was coming back to Blacksburg.....). Lessons to carry on in life- and into my new beginnings in Syracuse.

:)

It is true what they say- always keep your mind and heart open- because you don't know what will happen if you do- and take a chance.... :)

Blood Runs Cold

I have never experienced what it feels like for your blood to run cold- except when I have been scared out of my wits- until tonight. This time, it was a sensation that stayed with me and didn't leave- it pierced down to my bones and knawed at my marrow. It made my heart thud against my sternum and left me short of breath- it made me feel alone- yet calloused.

...and please note I did not congratulate you- there is nothing to congratulate when all you did is roll over and play dead.

The Feminist Male

I truly have a respect for men who are not ashamed to make the claim that they are feminist. But then there are those that may not necessarily claim to be feminists, but claim to be progressive thinkers on women's issues- and prove to be anything but.

In my mind- they are public enemy number one for all women. They are men who claim to respect women, yet throw them away with each day's trash. They are the ones that claim to break the patriarchical structure, yet saddle women with the yoke of that oppression.

I am not saying that there cannot be feminist males, but rather, an understanding of what is means to be "progressive" on women's issues- what does it mean to have the lived experience of being a women- and understanding that there is a diversity of women's experiences and how they interpret and interact with their perceptions of reality.

Random Thought at 3 in the Morning

I have always found it slightly tragic/odd/whatever when someone's parents are infinitely cooler than they are- it makes you wonder what happened along the way......

Oh to rectify mistakes- chances not taken and risks unwisely chosen- making the worse decision of two set before you. grr...

My Fathers, My Brothers, and My Uncles

This is a bit late, but here are my reflections from this past Memorial Day. The 5th since the war in Iraq started, the 5th, to see over 4,000 lost.

I come from a family that has served our country in its time of greatest need- grandfathers that fought in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, World War II. They have risen to the cause when it was needed most.

I reflect on my dad and my brother- both currently serving in the military, and my fears that my brother could be sent to Iraq or Afghanistan- yet his complete willingness to go.

And then I worry about the failed trusteeship of our elected leaders. They use the military at will without regard for the consequences- the post-war effects of combat, stress, and loss- the loss of time and your buddies who stand next to you in battle. The attitude of their expendability- yet the other talk of "we support our troops"- but won't enact a bill to ensure their families aren't on welfare or that they have the proper equipment in the field of battle.

Just as I thought things were going to be dull

....they get interesting again.

So I was lamenting the fact that Blacksburg in the summer can be boring and dull- it actually isn't that bad. The weather is great, so you can walk everywhere- and people are more relaxed- not putting up fronts about why they can't do something or hang out. And for me, it is a wonderful nice, quiet break from academia and the full-on assault of my impending PhD.

Blacksburg in the summer is quite an expected suprise.

Brooding Thoughts Late on Friday Night

There are many things that I'm mulling over tonight (after watching a VERY weird movie- don't see Perfume unless you are into really weird movies). So it's hard to know where to start or where to go from this sentence.

Blacksburg actually is turning out to not be that bad. I am somewhat bored, but really, that is when I have had time to think and am not running around doing work for the CT or trying to find a second summer job. I've been able to talk more at ease with people and catch up with people I had been acquainted with and had always wanted to get to know better. I want to plan all these things, and then I realize I'll be leaving to go home in a few days and when I get back it'll be June- and then only two months before I move to Syracuse. I have a feeling that time is going to fly.

Another thing that I have been contemplating is at what point do you become a passive obeserver of a friend's dispassionate surrender and acceptance of fate- a fate that deep down you know they could tempt and change, but they have no courage to stand on their own two feet- literally and figuratively. (and courage, I mean in the loosely defined sense- not just a "standing up for yourself" but entailing many things to bearing a burden to acknowledging and accepting the task you take upon yourself). There is only so many encouraging words to say, and in the end, you become frustrated and angry- for caring too much and perhaps loving too much as well. On one hand you care and want what is best for your loved ones- but at the same time you realize that at some point there is going to be the moment of truth- loaded with expectations- and there is really nothing else you can do but become an observer.

Perhaps on one hand, I believe deep down inside that this "moment of truth" can become a turning point- the decision to take it upon yourself to make a change. The start for making all the necessary changes and decision to proceed forward and "right the ship" so to speak. But that is a lofty expectation- if that has not been the case in the past. I expect something that is not going to happen- that there is going to be this grand epiphany where everyone involved is going to back away, give space, and allow for the more important decisions and tasks to be accomplished- will be done. But if you have lived your whole life not being clear about what you need to do or about your doubts and fears, or clear in your communications- that is not going to change overnight and that epiphany will not happen. And it may never change. That is the other side of the coin of a "moment of truth"- surrender, acceptance, defeat.

It is frustrating to see this kind of thing happen in front of you and not being able to do anything about it.

On a side note, I want to go to Bonnaroo- but its 200+ dollars :( BUT i would get the concert-goingness out of me. They have an amazing lineup: http://www.bonnaroo.com/artists.aspx.

We shall see- 4 days of concerts would be pretty kick ass.

Nicknames

There are several nicknames friends of mine have made up (for those special people in our lives) that I must share. For those who know what they mean, they are funny. For everyone else- remain clueless.

Trout-mouth, WAD, WMD, Mr. Invertebrate

Identity Crisis

I someday fear that I will be on a crash course for an identity crisis. My customized adds that appear urge me to send money home (to Texas??) and to write in my "native Indic script" (chicken-scratch??).

I find it all rather amusing actually. But a little weird that google, blogspot, and facebook follow my computer usage and search words enough to get that kind of information on me.

An Ajoinder

To add to the previous post, Leo Tolstoy writes, in the beginning of Anna Karenina, and I feel that it is an apt summation of what I was aiming for: "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

Families are Families, no matter where you are

After reading the umpteenth blog written by an Indian, discussing the relationship of Western families as compared to Indian families, I am really perturbed by this assumption that "family and friends comes second" in Western families. Do they know any Westerners? or are they just picking and choosing the characterizations and subsequent case studies that they wish to to back up their case??? Do they recognize that the relationship that children in the West have with their parents is far different than the relationship Indian children have with their parents? I would challenge anyone that thinks Westerners put family and friends second to meet my friends and my family- they will tell you differently. In my mind, my friends are part of my family (I never miss a chance to introduce my friends to my family)!

I am blessed with a family that understands me, and trusts me, and wants what is best for me, and gives me the freedom to explore, mess up, make mistakes and learn. I can't think of a time I have had to compromise anything in my life because I talk things out with my parents and let them know the things I am thinking and the course of action I want to take. My parents are like any other parents- they worry if I will get married, have kids, get a job. But they also realize that this journey is my journey. Whatever decisions I make or course of action I make, the faults will be mine, but the successes will be the result of my work but also that of my friends and family.

I would not argue that I have been raised in an individualistic nature. Individualistic is far different than Independent. One infers a competitive state of nature, devoid of deep relationships with others. The latter, independent, infers the ability to make decisions and carve a specific identity for yourself, but still have deep connections to family, home, friends, and the world. It is that recognition of your self and the multiplicity of your identity and role in relation to others. Social interaction shapes and changes your identity and forms a sense of who you are. To claim that you are far removed from these social interactions fails to comprehend how vital these relations are in forming our sense of self.

Obituaries and Biographies

After reading some lately- I don't think I ever want one written- some of them are just so badly written.

Philosophy of Social Science

I lament the fact that people do not see history as a Hegelian procession -like a river- you cannot view the events of the past through the lens of today. You can, however, deconstruct it through a historical lens via an archeology or genealogy (hurray Foucault!) There is a sore lack of appreciation for social science theory and philosophy (alas!)

I write this little brief rant because I read a piece on DailyKos discussing Native American history that devolved into a discussion of how Native Americans had slaves. Well- Duh! Some of them did, as did many ancient and not so ancient civilizations. But, in the time period they were studying, it was mostly as a means for the Cherokee, specifically, to show how "white" they were, in the hopes that they would not be removed off of their lands. In the end, it turned out to merely be a continuation of the "modernization" of the Cherokees so that they appear "civilized" (sadly, I believe that this rhetoric and subsequent actions are still largely the prevalent model for development, as imposed by Western countries on the Third World. But I digress).

So yes, if you are going to produce critical history and comment on it, please please please, try to understand it through a historical lens- not your own.

Thick Skulls

For some reason, it always seems that the lessons that we need to learn the most, and the quickest, are also the same mistakes that we keep making. It is so difficult to learn from mistakes- and not make them again and again. Each time, you feel more worn out and more dense for not learning the first time. The conditioned response does not seem to form, despite numerous trials....successive learning events....and successive negative outcomes when learning is not completed.

And its finally when you hit the bottom that you realize the past mistakes that you have made over and over and it weights like a great rock in your heart- choking you and making it difficult to breath- causing you to be dizzy, as if hit with a great realization that your mind can't make sense of.

I am a human.

Philosophical Ponderings on the (Mis)Treatment of Animals (Humans) and subsequent (Re) Actions (A Poem of Questions)

Do you remain silent, in steely resolve? Or do you raise a hand to block the hand that strikes you? Or do you succumb, and become less human with each act of degradation?

And what if the other person doesn't share your same sense of what respect means? are you at an impasse? do you have but two options to choose from? continue...or.....?

Jesus Christ said turn the other cheek- but how many cheeks can you turn?

New Beginnings

So I'm sitting in the airport in Roanoke, getting ready to head to Syracuse, and I can't hlep but think that this is a new beginning. Technically, the "new start" won't really start until August, but the wheels are already in motion- and there are too many emotions going on to think and process effectively- sadness, happiness, anticipation, sorrow, melancholy, joy, questioning, reluctance, rinse, wash, and repeat.

The one thing you hear over and over is how change can be scary- is it really scary? or is it just we let our emotions and cognitions get the better of ourselves?

I am very excited about the prospects offered by Syracuse, but I still feel immense sadness about the people I'll leave behind and the changes that have occurred in my life since coming to Blacksburg- time will only tell.

Awareness

So the VT police sent out another message (I would say the 3rd or 4th this semester) about another incident involving students. Was this a orblem before? or is this something new?

I would like to think of it more as "awareness." It is not that Blacksburg is "unsafe," if you look at sheer statistics on "violent" crime, but there are those concerns that always happens with a college town. We aren't talking Grand Theft Auto or Murder or Armed Robbery- we are talking about a quick assault and a dash into the dark. Of course, those are the incidents that don't make it into national statistics, so yes, Blacksburg will continue to appear "safe."

I'm not a person to be paranoid, but at the same time, I also don't assume that every place I go is "safe." You have to have a certain degree of comfort and familiarity with a place. I still feel Blacksburg is in my "safety" zone, but at the same time, Washington Heights at 2 am is also still in my safe zone. It's relative.

And of course, it is a college town- the rate of crime is going to underreported and the numbers fudged to represent the quaint college town that mom and dad would not have a problem dropping off their little darling for the first far away from home.

Work, ADD, and other random things I will write about while under the influence of sugar and caffeine!

I don't think I spelled caffeine right...hmm I guess i did...it didn't show up with a red squiggly line.

OK- so I had a rather unproductive day- I did some reorganization of the paper and then basically let everything distract me to no end (and for once, Facebook was NOT the destraction). I have an overwhelming urge to go somewhere...now. I hear South Africa is nice or even Ukraine (is there a the in front of that? is it like THE Netherlands???? These are questions of grave importance I guess I should be trying to answer, being in International Affairs and all...)

Oh and I found a funny word from urban dictionary- collateral misinformation- when someone gets the wrong information from wikipedia because someone has changed it to win an argument. Oh urban dictionary how I love thee.

Ok...enough random thoughts and all that- I have a bus to catch! WEEE SLEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Living with Other People

So I figured it was about time I started an entry about this oh-so lovely topic. I live with three people, all female, and I can say that two of my roomates, I really like a lot. The last one...I can't FREAKIN' stand. I've come to realize how small things about a person can add up to a lot. I had never really had such problems with a roomate before. My freshman year, despite our different backgrounds and way of looking at the world, D'ann and I got along great! She remained a close friend of mine even when we were not rooming together anymore (and we weren't rooming together anymore because she moved off campus and I stayed on). My second roomate was the problem though. She was a BITCH and a TYRANT. I swear, I had to wonder if that girl ever left the fucking room. She really didn't bother me all that much because I was hardly ever in the room (I was taking 17 hours in the Fall and 16 in the Spring plus the RA course....and of course, I was heavily involved). But, when I was in the room, like at night- because lo and behold, this girl went to bed at 10pm.......WHO IN COLLEGE GOES TO BED AT THAT TIME???? I guess I was stupid and should have gotten the clue that she goes to bed that early- and doesn't wake up until 10 the next day. I had never known someone to sleep so much (well, I take that back...the Disliked Roomate sleeps alot). I tried to be nice to her and she responded like a bitch. I'm sure part of it would be that she would make a statement, and I would ask "well, why do you feel that way?" (I think my favorite was when

she said "Bush is a dumbass"
Me:"Ok thanks for stating the obvious, but why?"
Her response: "UGH! He just is"
Me: That's not going to win you any debates...

I admit, that was a bit of a smart ass thing for me to do......but hey, that's life. I think the main problem was that our personalities were so different. Somehow, deep down inside, I think she is a recovering Goth. It just struck me that way.

So we parted ways, and from then on out, the rest of my time at A&M, I lived in a single room, but I had suitemates, so it was a little like living in an apartment. My suitemate my senior year was amazing! She was funny, crazy, and just plain fun.

My roomates last year at VT were great. Tiffany is definitely missed! So now this brings me to my Disliked Roomate (DR). I thought DR and I would get along- she had had similar experiences to mine and she was studying in a related field. That's where they stop though. Homegirl obviously has not had responsibilty before. She was able to spend her undergraduate days galavanting around the world, which is nice, but then you tell other people they should do the same thing? Some of us have RESPONSIBILITIES! like jobs, school, and not enough money. I shudder to think that being a TA at VT is your first REAL work experience. (and please, teaching English in another country is NOT a job- and the people who hire you to do it know that, they know you are only doing it so you can travel to another country with a pretense). And when you talk about traveling, please don't act like no one else has done it. Dont' patronize me or talk down to my friends, especially since some of them have a hell lot more experience than you. (Especially, as I see it, you go to foreign countries, spend +1 month there, and don't even learn the language??? My Spanish is better than yours and FUCK you were in India in a program where you learn Hindi and you didn't even pick that up....are you really an "international" traveler or just an American tourist?) But yeah, Patronizing tone ANY time you talk to her. And it also shows when she'll come back from a hike and say "wow, you really should go.." Pardon me for the piles of book and computer I am sitting at doing WORK. You came to grad school to work and learn some professionalism. Are you just here to play? because I can tell you, that ain't going to get you a job, especially in your field (look at your loser no-personality boyfriend...what is he doing? working for Blacksburg???) Oh and my favorite is when DR made the comment "OH! someone's being domestic today!" the first time she saw me cooking at home. EXCUSE ME?!? Just because I am cooking a meal for myself does not mean I'm "domestic" i means I can provide and take care of myself, which is the least I can say for you (Yeah, do I need to remind you that the one attempt you had at cooking dinner, I ended up having to cook for you??) I really get annoyed with these "feminists" who think that cooking dinner, knowing how to do any so-called "domestic" tasks- makes you less of a "strong woman." Face the facts- you have to know how to do some of these things in life, otherwise you will end up asking for help all the time. And besides, as a feminist, I do advocate women being able to do all these things, not so much for their husband, but for themselves. (And honestly, if you can cook well, you can def. have control over your man).

So what else does Homegirl do? Does not lift a finger to help in the maintenance of the apartment (I actually think that this is where most of my ire perpetuates from)- I have never once seen her clean our bathroom or the living room, or even take out the trash for that matter. I think the worst was when right before Thanksgiving Break she and I said "ok, we're cleaning this this weekend." Guess who got stuck with it....yeah that's right...me. And who kept walking by and not offering to help, and even went as far as to idiotically say "oh wow, someone's on a cleaning spree!" Oh Bitch...no. And EVEN more did not even take the trash that was by the door out when she went to take a bag of trash from her room that wasn't even a quarter full (this brings me to another point- she has all these obnoxious "my carbon footprint is smaller than yours" type deals- WHY THE HELL are you throwing out a half-filled garbage bag....isn't that just making more trash (in the form of another plastic bag)- fucking hypocrites). So when Homegirl realizes I'm pissed, she comes up to me and says "I really appreciate you doing this.." FUCK no you don't. You just like the fact that someone else is doing it. To which I just looked at her and thought about what to say- be a bitch or be diplomatic. I think I took the middle road and said "yeah, hopefully it will stay clean" Her: (laugh that sounds like a damn cough (she does this alot when she talks and it sounds like she is hyperventilating and its annoying too)): Oh I'm sure it will.

Will it bitch? Last I checked, you aren't doing anything to make sure it stays clean. For some reason, more than any other roomate, this girl pisses me the hell off. I honestly think alot of it has to do with the maturity level- she's still a kid at the age of 23. I have no problem with acting immature and having fun, but I also realize there is a time and place for that.

Whew- rant over. I feel like punching her face now.

The God of Small Things

More and more, I read people's facebook or blog or orkut that say one of their favorite books is The God of Small Things. And some of the people I know who have this book listed as their favorites I know hardly understand the nuances Arundhati Roy includes in this novel or fully grasp what exactly she is writing between the covers. Amazon's review states:

"In her first novel, award-winning Indian screenwriter Arundhati Roy conjures a whoosh of wordplay that rises from the pages like a brilliant jazz improvisation. The God of Small Things is nominally the story of young twins Rahel and Estha and the rest of their family, but the book feels like a million stories spinning out indefinitely; it is the product of a genius child-mind that takes everything in and transforms it in an alchemy of poetry. The God of Small Things is at once exotic and familiar to the Western reader, written in an English that's completely new and invigorated by the Asian Indian influences of culture and language."

What this fails to mention, however, is that Roy, herself, has been a prolific writer, mostly on issues of societal, cultural, and political concern. Some of these concerns are alluded to throughout the course of the novel. Environmental concerns are addressed in the manner in which she describes the pollution in the river, caused by pesticides bought with loans from the World Bank (also, in this addressing the impact of globalization on the environment), but also in the means of how she juxtaposes the life of the family with that of Velutha's- which is arguably more attuned with and at one with, nature.

The obvious "point" that people pull from this novel is the discussion of caste and the separation of people, whom love each other, because of this system. However, it is not so simplistic. It also concerns not only a division on caste, but also class, and societal affiliations. Velutha, an untouchable, laborer, with affiliations to the Communist Party, does not seem to mix with the idea of what the "respectable" Christian, middle class wants. It is not, then, just a caste issue. Overall, Roy is utilizing this family to critique the Christian community in Kerala, not just as a reiteration of what so many other writers have commented on in the past. To simplify her points to only being about caste neglects the complexity of the novel and the complexity of Roy's arguments on the positions she takes in real life.

The Amazon review states that this would be a great read and not hard to understand for English readers (read: Western readers) however, I would also argue that so much of the context and points of the story are lost because of the failure to fully understand and take into consideration the rich social fabric Arundhati Roy composes in this novel.

Perhaps, this can shed a little more light on who Arundhati Roy is and some of the issues she addresses within God of Small Things, in a way that weaves into a stirring story. In her own words, it is about power and power relations and her way of seeing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZ2as-l_LSk&feature=related

Lost

Do you ever have those days where you wonder what you are doing and how you got to where you are...and you just feel lost and don't know what to do next- yeah, i'm having one of those days. It just makes me wonder what I'm doing and if what I felt like is what I wanted to do all along, really what I want to do?

So yeah, there's always that cliche that life is a journey and sometimes you get lost- but damn, it does not feel good sometimes to be lost- and with no direction to home.

The Bloody Fucking Double Standard

I don't ask for much, but there are certain things that when others expect them of me, I would hope they would do the same. For example, I like to study with music- but if someone comes over and I know they may not like studying to the music I like, I turn it off- or they turn it off themselves, and I make no protest. Go to their house and it is a totally different story- you want to watch some children's movie because you are thinking about your niece- ok...fine! BUT CAN'T YOU FUCKING WAIT UNTIL I LEAVE (which would be about 5 minutes later). The list goes on- you have a bad day-you are allowed that, but when I'm in a mood- it's as if I commit some crime- I know you are smarter than to make a comment that will further piss me off- seriously, if you think what I do is so easy, you do it. I've seen the way you write- you would have a hard time doing what I do- let alone understanding what I have to read- it's all relative my dear. Einstein was a great theorist on that- but it seems to have passed your notice.

Or...let's say, with blogs- you make damn well sure I read your blog, but I don't even think you give mine a passing glance...all the better for me I suppose- although a post like this may not be made public...or if it is...well.....you probably still wouldn't notice.

And please, don't play the martyr with me- it wiill not get you my sympathy nor win you any points...or leverage against me for that matter- whatever you have done in the past- hardly is made up for sometimes. And the fact you keep me dangling and make remarks that I can't stand- I make comments and it's as if I killed your mother (let's not mention when I say "your mom!"- as if it is worse than the disrespect you show your own mother sometimes. So please, don't lecture me.

Oh, and your two more years of life, certainly do not qualify you for anything special. And for someone who has seen more people in this world- you sure don't seem to be able to handle them well- or communicate- or get along with anyone. YOu were in Germany for a year and you only have 4 friends from that? and you are in Tennessee for 6 months, and do not make any friends but the people you live with? and then you place the blame on them- obviously, something is fucked up in your brain.

How much more can I write? Probably a novel. On nights like tonight, I just don't want to deal with you. I send you a message asking how your work is going, and you don't respond. Not my problem. I'll just go to friend's houses and see people that I feel would be more worth my while to see- while you wallow in your self-pity.

Happy Birthday to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

In observance of his birthday, let us remember the struggle he engaged himself in, and know that while injustice and inequality still prevail, it will never be over. Until hate and ignorance are eradicated, we must not pause, we must not stop to work for freedom, understanding, and love for our neighbors and enemies.

And to remember Dr. King, the transcript of his most famous speech, given from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, another man who worked for greater equality and justice:

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Martin Luther King, Jr., delivering his 'I Have a Dream' speech from the steps of Lincoln Memorial. (photo: National Park Service)

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. 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 quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, 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, 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.

This is our hope. 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.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a 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. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

I would tell you....but I might explode

...Ok...this is the post where we find out how weird Bernie can be sometimes. I notice that whenever I am upset, writing helps me. If someone were to ever pick up my diary, they would think i'm either pissed off or depressed all the time (never mind that the dates maybe five months apart). I think giving "voice" to your feelings really does help with the catharsis of those emotions.

I think the weirdest thing I do is that when someone really upsets me, I start to write an email to them (dear Lord! not one that I actually intend to send!). It helps me, sometimes more than writing in my diary because it forces me to put more into context what I am thinking and my own actions. It temper me a bit, not only in my words, but in my thinking as well. But overall, it helps me to give voice to my frustrations when I can't say them directly to the person who is bugging me (either that is becuase they are not right there or out of phone contact or just not being communicative)....which, ultimately is usually a reason for the frustration- sometimes a simple yes, no, or how are you doing would be nice- and not really difficult to do.

Other than that, I play really loud Blood Brothers and jam out to that. Because angry music is the best way to soothe the beast in my mind. Rock 'n roll!

What are some of your ways of dealing with anger?