Backstage Fanboy Pics

Abdul El-Sayed and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

From my very own similarly-hyphenated 

(in identity and name)

fanboy--At.

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"I was teaching the names [of plants] and ignoring their songs.”

Just the most uplifting, poetic On Being with Robin Wall Kimmerer yesterday.



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Families Belong Together

In which I embarrass my family on Facebook

"Tony died."

At came down to breakfast. breaking the news about Anthony Bourdain--apologetically. And now, at the end of the day, I am just grateful that everyone I know online seems to recognize the curiosity, empathy, and generosity that made him so extraordinary. Big A had worked overnight, but I knew that this would be the one celeb whose passing would affect him. And sure enough, as soon as he got off his shift, he texted: "Tony died." We have all his books, watched some of his shows back when we had time, and knew enough to love him. And all my media and/or NYC people had stories about meeting him, of him being an ally without making it all about himself.

On the way home from getting Nu from school, while we were waiting for the train to clear the tracks, we were rear-ended. I had taken the puppies for a little car ride, and Huck is so tiny that she flew into Nu's lap from the backseat. I went to talk to the driver of the other car, and it was a young woman who immediately began apologizing so profusely, all my criticisms were silenced. It looked like both cars were fine, and she swore that she wasn't texting, so I told her to be safe, and brought the kids home. Big A was rather loud and adamant that I should have taken her insurance information anyway.

Of course, I've been crying--somewhat disproportionately--since then.
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Justice for Asifa

I feel a murderous rage coming on. I can't get the story of this child's face out of my head.

My dad was fond of the radical Tamizh poet Bharathiyaar who claimed, “Thani oruvanukku unavillai enil jagathinai azhithiduvom” (If even just one person does not have sustenance, let's burn down the whole world). 

And that's how I'm feeling today. No one deserves to be happy, no one deserves to live. Let's just nuke the planet and be done with this. 

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Junk Food and Socio-economic Class

I may be crying a little after reading how junk food has different values and meanings dependent on families' socio-economic status.

"For parents raising their kids in poverty, having to say "no" was a part of daily life. Their financial circumstances forced them to deny their children's requests — for a new pair of Nikes, say, or a trip to Disneyland — all the time. This wasn't tough for the kids alone; it also left the poor parents feeling guilty and inadequate. 

Next to all the things poor parents truly couldn't afford, junk food was something they could often say "yes" to. Poor parents told me they could almost always scrounge up a dollar to buy their kids a can of soda or a bag of chips. So when poor parents could afford to oblige such requests, they did."

Maps

My heart's fierce routes traverse here
maps curve cathedral arms out there

feelings scrambling across my face
in the stutter of heightened fights

I can miss all the people you have been,
the punctuation and pitch of your voices

I can learn all the places you have been
this body is--those borders are--prisons

I fill my thoughts with plots. Of weeping
until we drown--all the places in this town


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Time to go

Last night, I dreamt that I was looking over grandmother's old house by the sea. I was talking to my aunt and Big A about how it would make sense to get it (buy it?). I think we had decided to go for it until I remembered that the water from the faucets used to stain everything grey and wondered if that still happened and were there loud trains in the backyard?

The night before that, I dreamt of huge temple festival crowds. And among them, I found my mother with her friends. They were in full temple-going mode--vibrant silk saris and gem-studded jewelry and... were taking turns standing on a grate. Mom was so embarrassed to see me, but managed to hug me tight and whisper that I shouldn't tell anyone.

Both dreams were dotted with apocalyptic climate change motifs--rising seas, shimmering heat, crop failures--I blame the eco-criticism-ecofeminism class.

Is This Land is Your Land? 

Environment and Culture in the Anthropocene 

ENG 180/WGS 280

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He Takes his Spike Lee Seriously

YES

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I solemnly swear

HOLY

FUCK.

NOW WHAT?

The kids and I turned up at the Mall for the rally, but they had already taken off... we did catch sight of them at College Corner though. They were magnificent.

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The Resistance

\




The DJT 

https://www.thedjtr.com/  Resistance

Giving me life...

These Joe Biden memes are the only bright spot right now.
At is compiling these on a subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/JoeInTransition/

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Does this nonsense end?

Prehistoric Massacre Hints at War Among Hunter-Gatherers

"The bones at the lake, in northern Kenya, tell a tale of ferocity. One man was hit twice in the head by arrows or small spears and in the knee by a club. A woman, pregnant with a 6- to 9-month-old fetus, was killed by a blow to the head, the fetal skeleton preserved in her abdomen. The position of her hands and feet suggest that she may have been tied up before she was killed."

It reminded me of the open of the second season of The Leftovers, a show I watched religiously, helplessly, piteously-sometimes asking the family to be extra kind to me because I'd be watching it that day.

Motto

Elections 2016

This or that--
I'm running away or
slowing/throwing down

in uncanny dashes
to interpret patches
of plaster and verse

But words in my mouth--
a delicate wheel of anger
will--still--demand love

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Hell Yeah!

What type of feminist (or anti-feminist) are you?

(Take the quiz. Do it! Do it!)

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Standing room only

As we speak up for Flint.

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Moms are Embarrassing

There was that moment when everyone was singing "We Shall Overcome" and my stupid face dissolved into silent tears. My sweet kids on either side of me didn't look too embarrassed, and actually helped me make sure I didn't have streaks before we walked out.

It's just been such a long time, you know--and here we are, still working on overcoming the same crap.

(Later in the evening, At did say the next time I bugged him about something, he'd call me "Church-weeper" so there's that.)

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