Tari Rocks!

May. (or may not)

2008-07-02T17:28:00.002-05:00

Jamie Lee Curtis says that Activia "may help regulate your digestive system in two weeks" - studies have proven it!

Coffee may be linked to cancer. Ditto on cell phones and microwaves.

Today, I stumbled over the headline "Women may be more attracted to men with a little stubble." (I like the place it was published, so I'm not going to link it, I'm just going to mock it.)

Oh they may, may they?

You know what? Coffee may turn steel wool into golden fleece. Wearing Berks may increase the size of my bank account. Knowing the lyrics to "Ice Ice Baby" may be the key to eternal salvation and/or universal enlightenment.

Then again, all that may be total bullshit.

Do people not understand that the word "may" does not actually indicate anything definite? I mean, seriously, Activia may regulate your digestive system, or it may make your nipples sprout fur. Women may be attracted to stubble, or they may prefer to romp through rainbow forests with unicorns that shoot sunshine and rose petals right out their asses! Either statement would be equally valid!! When they say "may," what they're telling you is that THEY DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW FOR SURE, and whatever they're selling you is based on FUCK ALL.

So, please, don't buy it. It's meaningless.

A different perspective.

2008-07-01T14:18:00.005-05:00

Every now and then, I like to pick up a news weekly. I used to subscribe to TIME Magazine, but dropped it because I was feeling guilty over the mass amounts of non-recycled glossy paper stacking up in my house. It was like I could hear the trees screaming.

I do like magazines, though, for more in-depth looks at current events than I usually pick up from the wires or the average internet crawl. So, yeah, sometimes I pick up TIME or Newsweek or USNews. Sometimes I like to get The Economist for a more global, less America-centric perspective (The Economist is based in the UK). This week, that's exactly what I did. I hadn't flipped through an issue in probably a year, and so I thought I'd broaden my view a bit.

I'm not through it yet, but already a couple of stories have hit my buttons. First, let's talk about models:

IT'S not often that fashion models are paired with IT workers, except in the lurid fantasies of computer geeks. But because of a decision made back in 1990 they must compete for the same over-subscribed H-1B, a temporary work visa for specialised occupations. Until 2004, when the government lowered the cap on the number of H-1Bs it issued, it didn't matter so much. But now demand has far outstripped the limited number of visas available, and many foreign models are being denied the chance to sashay down America's catwalks.

Oh, the poor, poor models! You can't see this, but right now I'm playing "My Heart Bleeds For You" on the world's smallest violin.

Anthony Weiner, a New York congressman, wants to fix this tragic glitch. He has proposed a bill amending the rules so that the models will be reclassified into their own special immigration category.

...

Steve King, an Iowa congressman, thinks the bill should be called the “Ugly American Act” because it implies there are not enough beautiful people in the United States.

Well, shit, we all know that's true. If there were enough beautiful people in the U.S., our media wouldn't be saturated with ads for expensive crap to make us all prettier. And wow, in a world fraught with natural disasters and systemic oppression and economic disparities on a shocking scale, is the lack of foreign models allowed in the country really something we classify as a tragedy? Is objectification of women a noble enough pursuit that it merits a special category for issuing visas?

My favorite part:

Luckily though, supermodels like Gisele Bündchen are in the clear. They are eligible for O-1 visas, given to those with “extraordinary ability,” like Nobel laureates.

Yes, because supermodels are *just* like Nobel laureates. UGH.

And now, on to genes and clutter:

Are humans, then, hardwired to cling on to their possessions? If so, this primordial instinct joins a lengthening list of maladaptations to modern life. Attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) may have suited a nomad, because the itch to wander off led to serendipitous discoveries of food and mates. The ability to store food as fat was handy if food was sometimes scarce.

Wow, is this an international publication tacitly admitting that fatness is genetic? And not controlled by "calories in - calories out"? Really? That's sort of interesting...

The fat, the impulsive and the untidy are genetically normal, but they are equipped for yesteryear. The thin, the focused and the neat are freaks—but they are cut out for success. For modern life disapproves of clutter, almost as much as it scorns obesity and fidgeting.

So, wait...normal people with normal genes are fat, impulsive, untidy, and destined for failure? What the fuck? Who the fuck decided that this is what "modern life" is, and is not? Doesn't sound like anything I'm interested in.

If you want to keep up with fashion, in handbags and iPhones, it is constantly in with the new. Modern life demands that the old should go out at the same time.

Oh, right, I see now. Is this the same "modern life" that's, oh, killing the planet?!

Yet where nature creates a problem, the market provides a solution. What Ritalin is to ADHD, and liposuction is to obesity, the personal-organisation industry can be to clutter. These professionals offer not just order, but also sympathy. America's National Association for Professional Organisers speaks of “Chronic Disorganisation”; hoarders everywhere will take comfort from those capital letters.

Wow. I love that the fucking Container Store is being compared to liposuction. One will sell you a rack to hold all your shoes, the other is a medical procedure that could, I dunno, kill you and stuff. Totally the same kinda thing.

Plus, since when is being a clutterbug a mental disorder (which is how I read a label like "Chronic Disorganization")? Obviously, there are extremes that aren't exactly healthy...but there's a big difference between being untidy, and being a hoarder.

So...The Economist - while providing interesting political insights and information about a much broader range of topics and geographies than many American sources (for example, I found this piece about the challenges faced by Europe's Roma populations really interesting and educational)....seems to miss the boat (for me) outside politics and economics. A perspective that equates a closet organizer with lipo, and a supermodel with a Nobel laureate, isn't really all that different from the mainstream American media.

FUotD: Barack Obama

2008-07-01T13:29:00.003-05:00

I can't believe I'm saying this, but...hey, Barack Obama: FUCK YOU!

Here's the e-mail I just sent through Obama's Senate website:

Dear Senator Obama:

It is with sadness and confusion that I write to you today. I was shocked to read today's headlines indicating your support and planned expansion of George W. Bush's Faith Based Charity policy, as well as your position that some hiring and firing based on religion was allowable.

I understand the fine line you walk as a politician, needing to compromise with many differing viewpoints in order to move the country forward. Although I disagree with the positions, I get why you supported the FISA compromise, why you have developed more nuanced positions on Israel and diplomacy and complicated issues. I don't fault you for trying to find a way to appropriately represent all Americans, and to make decisive choices in complex situations.

I cannot for the life of me, though, understand why a liberal (let alone a progressive) would support a program that has eroded the separation of Church and State, without improving social services or the overall well being of Americans one whit, and would pile on additional exemptions that amount to discrimination on the base of religious beliefs. As a non-Christian, this is near and dear to my heart, and any allowance for religious discrimination feels like the first step on a slippery slope leading to further discrimination that has the potential to impact my life in tangible ways.

I believe that faith based social services are wonderful things...but they should absolutely be funded privately by people who support the faith itself, and not using my tax dollars. I believe these programs do vital work, and help lots of people...but I also have no doubts that the helping hands come with the price tag of evangelism, and that's not something I'm interested in funding.

I also believe that there are social service programs that provide equal or better assistance without the added burden of religious coercion - and to reduce or divert funds from these truly equal opportunity organizations seems almost criminal to me. Since I don't have the ability to directly determine what my tax dollars are paying for, I rely on you to speak for me...and in this matter, that's just not happening.

I have been so happy to have you representing me in Congress these past few years. I was thrilled to see you enter the Presidential race. I believe that you have the potential to reverse much of the damage of the Bush administration...but adding fuel to the already volatile fire of religious conflict in this country is not part of the healing I believe this country needs. Please reconsider this position.

Best regards,
Tari Follett

It's All Connected, or, Dammit: Even Fair Trade Coffee Doesn't Make Dunkin' Donuts Suck Less

2008-07-01T10:54:00.003-05:00

This (via Common Dreams) is disappointing. I guess on some level, I sort of knew that big conglomerate military-industrial corporations (a la Halliburton) weren't just making tanks and planes and bombs, but were also buying up companies that get even some of *my* corporate-hating money. Now, I feel obligated to read the book so I can get a list of all the places I will avoid (or feel guilty for patronizing). UGH.

I swear, I'm not going to be able to stop being a hypocrite until I'm living on a tiny organic farm with a wind generator and a composting toilet. Le sigh.

FUotD: Chicago Cab Companies

2008-06-29T12:34:00.003-05:00

So, this is aimed NOT at cabbies themselves, who I have found to be generally awesome and friendly and helpful (with a couple notable exceptions - and yeah, I mean the ones who invite me to go to Vegas with them and/or drive in such a way as to make me both carsick and afraid for my life). I have no problem with cabbies. It's their fucking dispatchers I have a beef with.

So, last night, I wend my way to Target to get cat litter and various crap I probably could live without (but choose not to). I do my shopping, and - like I always do - park my cart outside and call my go-to cab service. The dispatcher takes my info, and ten minutes later (praise be!), she calls back to say the driver is out front and will be there shortly.

That's lightning-fast for a cab! I'm so excited. For once, maybe I have good taxi karma - it's a miracle!

Minutes go by. Five. Eight. Ten. I call the dispatch and sit on hold, trying to ind out what the fuck happened between "he's out front" and "will be there shortly." As I'm sitting on hold, the dispatcher calls me. I switch over the call, and she start groveling...apparently the cabbie had engine trouble, and they have to send me another cab. She apologizes profusely, and says she'll get someone right out to me. I'm cool with that; it's only been ten minutes, and this dispatcher is treating me as though I am a customer worthy of her courtesy. AWESOME.

So, ten minutes go by. Twenty. Nothing. I call the dispatch to check in. I get a different dispatcher (and with this small company, that means it's probably shift change. Fuck!), one I've dealt with before and did not have a great time. She says, "We're still trying to find someone for you. Do you still want to wait?"

UH, HELLO? I called a cab. This means I probably don't have a whole lot of other transportation options. ('Cause if you engage a brain cell, you might realize that I'm at a Target, and probably bought a bunch of stuff that doesn't travel well on a bus, or on my back. MORON.) I mean, if my magic carpet wasn't in the shop, I'd just whistle it up and get on with things, but since it IS in the shop, yeah, I'll keep waiting for a fucking cab!

Jeebus. Fucking people!

So, time goes by, and still nothing. Twenty more minutes (which makes almost an hour total I've been waiting), and I call dispatch again, where the lady gives me this pissy tone and says she just doesn't have anyone in that area, and do I still want to keep waiting. I say, "Well, could you send someone over here?" And she says she just can't seem to get anyone. So, I say, in a not-so-happy voice, "Well, if you can't get me a cab, I'll have to call another service..."

And she says, "Sorry we couldn't help you," and HANGS UP.

Holy shit, I was so pissed. So I dial my back-up cab company, wait on hold, and put in my order. I prepare myself for another twenty minute wait. It's been over an hour now....I'm hungry....I'm cranky....I'm seriously considering looking at how I can fit a car in my budget, 'cause this shit gets old fast.

I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. Half an hour passes, and I hear nothing from the dispatch. So I call them up, sit on hold, and finally get someone. I tell them I'm following up on an order I placed earlier, and she says (can you believe this?!), "I still haven't found anyone for you. Do you want to keep waiting?"

I PRACTICALLY LOSE MY MIND. I tell her, yeah, I don't have another good option. I tell her I'll pay double fare (she immediately says, "We're not asking you to do that" and I say "I know, but I'm just saying that I will"). She says, "Well, ma'am, I'll try to get someone over there."

Now, I've worked dispatch before (for a wrecker company, not a cab company, just to be transparent). I recognize that it's a little different with cabs, since they're much more independent about how they operate, and I get that they probably want to stay in areas that have more customers. But for fuck's sake, I'm a goddamned good tipper - good enough to merit taking a little jaunt out of Lincoln fucking Park and the Mag fucking Mile to drive a girl and her Target swag home! Plus, hello...I know it's Saturday night and I'm supposed to be out drinking my weight in tequila, but does the fact that I'm not make me less worthy of decent fucking customer service?!

Anyway.

Finally, about ten minutes after the last phone call, a cab shows up. He was just coming on shift, and lived in the area, and did me a huge favor by swinging over my way before heading down to tourist-and-drunkard town. He was kind of an ass about it, but I gave him $20 for a $9 cab ride, and I say that is fucking fair. He was very nice after that, helped me carry my stuff, gave me his cell number so I could call him specifically if I got stuck like that again. (I kinda wanted to be like, "Dude, I don't pay that well every time. Only when I'm desperate.")

So, yeah, I made it home. And my ice cream was only slightly melted.

So, Chicago Cab Companies: FUCK YOU!

This about sums it up.

2008-06-27T16:50:00.002-05:00

I'd get back in the saddle.....if I could find the saddle....

2008-06-26T16:13:00.001-05:00

Even though I'm feeling much better, I haven't been posting much these days. Mostly because all my brain can think up is "I'm feeling better, but still fucking exhausted and not quite back to full speed." Which, you know, is like talking about breakfast cereal on the excitement scale. Yawn.

I do seem to have, this afternoon, some spare brain space for thinking. It's not in-depth, or anything, but I've got some random thoughts to share....kind of a lightning round of what-the-fuck's-going-on-these-days. Enjoy!

* Tim Russert: Fucking shame. Hey, meainstream media wanks who purport to be his heartbroken and respectful colleagues: quit fucking talking about how he struggled with his weight and it eventually killed him; he worked out daily and ate reasonably well (or at least that's what his close friends keep saying) - what the fuck else is a normal human with a fucking life supposed to do? How about a little respect for the passing of a really amazing human being, a damn good journalist, and one of those lucky sons-of-bitches that finds his purpose in life? As usual, mainstream media, you can FUCK OFF.

* George Carlin: Another fucking shame. We shared the same birthday. We shared some political views and social criticisms. I loved the moment at the end of "Jersey Girl" where he says he doesn't want to die alone; it was some of the most poignant acting I've ever seen, even in such a relatively unimpressive movie. His books make me laugh every time I pick them up and re-read them. The world is less cool without him.

* Obama & FISA & public funding: I like Obama, and I think he's a great Senator, and will be a great President. But, like I've been saying to everyone I know who's got their starry-eyed idealistic blinders on, hoping he's a "change they can believe in," the man is a politician. He's not some naive tyro outsider - he's a Chicago pol who makes shrewd decisions based on walking the fine line between his beliefs, what's best for the country, and what's best for his own career. I think he's a damn sight better than a lot of the Dems out there carrying the party banner (ahem, Ms. Pelosi...), but I never forget that he's a politician. He's going to make a lot of compromises I don't like. This isn't a surprise.

* I recently subscribed to Yes! Magazine. I had stumbled on a few of their online articles, and really enjoyed them, and sent for a trial issue....and lo and behold, it's fabulous. There's a sense of activism and community and respect and this spirit of openness that I really like, and - with the exception of the one article on investments and banking bullshit (green your investments! put your money in a local credit union! pay yourself first!) - I really have enjoyed every article I've read. I was reading it at lunch the other day, when all of a sudden something really intense that I hadn't even noticed dawned on me: there were no ads. Not one advertisement. Not a single one! No product placement, no glossy photography, no objectification of human beings, no shilling for ANYTHING! I suddenly felt even better about paying my $20 for four issues a year - not only because it's writing untainted by advertiser interference, but also because it's printed on post-consumer recycled paper, with creative commons copyright licensing.

* Words I am thoroughly tired of hearing: "staycation" and the suffix "-bits." Please, media, we all fucking know gas prices suck; STOP talking about how everyone's taking a staycation to save money, as if you're so damn clever. Seriously, precocious smart-mouthed fifteen year olds, Stephen Colbert, and Joss Whedon make up witty new words...it's less cute when journalists pick it up as if they're equally trendy and cool. Not so much. Also, let's quit it with the bits! Girlybits, thinkybits, squickybits, bloggybits, snarkybits, snootybits, squishybits.....I am just fucking tired of all the little pieces of things! I want something in its unadulterated entirety, not bite size pieces. I'm a grown woman. I can handle it. Seriously.

* Musica: New albums I have picked up lately include Jason Mraz's new one (We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things. This one doesn't wow me as much as the older acoustic stuff, but there are a couple tracks I cannot stop playing; and "Details in the Fabric" makes me tear up *every* time.), Alanis Morissette's new one (Flavors of Entanglement. Some of the tracks are a bit dance-ier than I'd like, and some are more maudlin than I'd like....but there are a couple priceless ones in there, too. I particularly dig "Incomplete," which features the line "I'll know God, and I'll be constantly one with Her night, dusk, and day."), and Alexi Murdoch's Time Without Consequences (an older album I had never heard of, but am loooooooooving....I could listen to "Orange Sky" on repeat forever!). I'm also enjoying some random tracks from Crooked Still, a "newgrass" group that brings really cool percussive strings (originally a contemporary of my fave fiddler - Casey Driessen - and now some other players doing similarly awesome stuff), banjo, and the gorgeous vocals of lead singer Aoife O'Donovan...it's tasty stuff I highly recommend if you dig folk music, bluegrass, or pretty voices. Also on my playlists lately: Duffy, Amos Lee, and (as always) Green Day, Dan Bern, and John Mayer.

* Miscellanea: In my continuing shift from cute shoes to sensible shoes (and possibly from young-and-hip to old-and-crotchety), I heart my Birkenstocks. I also heart summertime.....but not so much the crazy raining and humidity. My hair, in particular, could do without the humidity. The permaculture gardens in the backyard....well, let's just say that they're having some trouble with bugs; our backyard is like an insect smorgasbord - it's so bad, I actually can't go out there for more than a few minutes, even with bug spray. Yikes! I managed - though still not up to full energy - to assemble two cat playground thingies....the cats seem to be enjoying them, which bodes well. Next cat-related excitement: the cat genie, which costs a bundle, but basically means no litter and (most importantly) no scooping cat shit anymore! Woo hoo!

I knew it!

2008-06-20T14:37:00.007-05:00

You are: Superman!

You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

I knew it! Superman has always been my favorite superhero. And not just because Christopher Reeve, Dean Cain, and Tom Welling are all incredibly hot. Superman is humble, even though he fucking rocks the house....and that, my friends, is my favorite complimentary quality of awesomeness. Awesomeness + humility = ass-kicking.

That is all.

(Totally ganked from Shakesville.)

I don't even LIKE fried chicken!

2008-06-18T11:23:00.002-05:00

Actual conversation with doctor recently:

Doctor: You take two in the morning, and two at night, because, you know, you're very big. And gargle every hour with salt water. And soft diet for a few days - no fried chicken!

Me: (I'm glad she said something, because a lifetime's dislike for fried chicken might have been overcome by the sudden need to force pointy grease-covered chicken down my unable-to-swallow-water-without-pain throat. I might've forgotten that even popsicles hurt if I'd stumbled past a KFC or something.) Uh...I haven't eaten anything but popsicles for three days.

Doctor: Oh, good! You'll lose some weight.

Yep, a trained medical professional was telling me that eating nothing but popsicles (sometimes the whole fruit schmancy kind, but more often the frozen kool aid cheap-o kind) was a good way to lose weight. No questions about what my diet was like normally. No evidence of any health issues related to my weight. Just the awesome recommendation to avoid fried chicken, and keep it up with the popsicles (despite their entire lack of nutritional value outside of sugar and various unnatural dyes).

Luckily, she'd already handed me the scrip I wanted when she said this, so I could just roll my eyes and leave.

Holy Buckets, I am capital-T Tired of Being Sick!

2008-06-18T11:22:00.000-05:00

I have been sick for almost a month now. My previous post was a little premature, as I shortly developed some wicked throat infection (maybe strep, maybe not; my gag reflex was too hot to get an accurate culture....ewwwwww) that has been kicking my ass since (and left me, yet again, living on popsicles). I am on my second round of antibiotics; party time. But the good news? I'm getting better. Hell, I'm eating solid foods again - for two days in a row, now! Praise be! I think maybe I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm really hoping it's not a fucking train.

Getting better.

2008-06-09T15:18:00.003-05:00

Well, after twelve days, one emergency room visit, a GI consult, and three days of Cipro, the mystery fever appears to have abated. I ate half a sandwich at lunch today, which is a big improvement on the popsicles and pedialyte I was living on for a few very scary days, when food of any kind was unappealing.

I have thoughts on my run-in with Western Medicine. I have thoughts on how much it fucking sucked not to be eating. I am not quite up to the energy levels I need to sustain enough rage to properly rant....so I save these topics for another time.

Suffice to say, I appear to be on the mend, even though they still don't really know yet what the hell I'm suffering from. I still have some diagnostics and stuff, to see if we can get to the bottom of it. But, for now, I will take my returned appetite (though diminutive) and lack of boiling fever, and I will be happy with it.

Bad news.

2008-06-04T04:48:00.002-05:00

I have been struck down with some kind of plague. I don't know what it is, and I even consulted Western Medicine, and they don't know either. I've been running a high fever for a week straight, though, and it is no fucking good at all. If it wasn't for my new best friend, Tylenol, I think my brains would've boiled out my ears already.

Anyway, that's taking pretty much all of my energy at the moment; just trying to stay hydrated and convince my body to get freaking better already. Healing thoughts, good juju, prayers, etc. are greatly appreciated.

Attention "Weeds" Fans.

2008-05-28T16:35:00.000-05:00

It has come to my attention that the theme song for the TV show "Weeds" is the awesome Malvina Reynolds song "Little Boxes." So, hey, people who are fans of that show and refer to the various versions of the song that were used in the opening titles....fucking credit where it's due, dammit!!

Thank you.

This message is brought to you by Songwriters Annoyed With People Not Bothering To Give Credit to the Artists Whose Work They Apparently Enjoy.

The Month of Tari: Almost Over Update!

2008-05-28T15:39:00.003-05:00

First things first: America the Beautiful is still playing at Chicago's Landmark Century Centre Theater. If you haven't gone to see it yet, what are you waiting for? It's SO worth taking the time to watch, and the more people who watch, the more likely it will get a broader release...which is bad for the "beauty" industry, but good for, you know, PEOPLE.

Next: dye job notwithstanding, I'm still having hair ennui. I think I may need to get out the scissors. Hmmm...

More exciting: despite the inconsistent springtime weather Chicago has been enjoying, the month has been productive in the garden. We have ass-kicking sproutlets of basil and peas and carrots and chamomile and tomatoes and greens and marigolds and beets (which are actually beet colored!!). Soon, they'll be ready for transplanting, and our new back yard will become a wild, green paradise! Assuming we can convince the abundant wildlife to lay off...

Thumbs up: Nepal ends Hindu monarchy! Gay marriage legal in Cali starting June 17!

Thumbs down: the xenophobic, incredibly racist, un-funny, hackneyed, ripped-off, horribly written-acted-directed Indy IV!

Hitting a wall.

2008-05-28T15:35:00.001-05:00

A lot of activists seem to be hitting a wall this week for some reason. I'm feeling it, too...when I look at the enormity of the injustices in the world, how close the planet is to total oblivion, and how little many people seem to give a damn....it's overwhelming. I get frustrated with what often feels like my own inability to shed the expectations of the culture I grew up in, and engage in more authentic, more sustainable daily habits - not to mention doing stuff beyond the everyday to try make the rest of the world a more equitable place. I forget sometimes, though, just how far outside the "norm" I already am, in many ways. There are plenty of people who consider me obnoxiously radical, even though I feel like there's so much more I could be doing.

That's the context in which I read David Korten's brilliant remarks to the Seattle Green Expo. While part of me thinks the Green Expos are still too driven by commerce and consumerism, I do think they're great baby steps to help spread green ideas and information. Korten's speech, however, was a breath of fresh air - it touched on things I believe but don't always articulate very well - particularly the idea of Empire. Some excerpts:

No more throwaway stuff. No more economic growth for the rich. Our priority must be to grow our well-being rather than our consumption. Invest in peace, education, and health care rather than war. Invest in compact communities rather than suburban sprawl. Invest in local economies and environmental rejuvenation rather than in shipping toys around the world and speculating in the global financial casino. Invest in sidewalks, bicycles, bicycle paths, and public transportation rather than cars and highways. Invest in education for living rather than advertising to get us to consume more. Here is the kicker. We must eliminate exactly those forms of non-essential production and consumption that our economic and political systems are designed to promote.

We might wonder how such injustice could happen in a world governed by democratically elected governments. The answer is simple and alarming. Our world is not governed by democratically elected governments. It is ruled by global financial institutions in the service of financial speculators who exchange trillions of dollars daily in search of instance unearned profits to increase the fortunes — and the power— of the richest people on the planet. They bring down governments that displease them, and buy and sell the largest corporations like commodities. By design and law the defining priority and obligation of these governing institutions is to generate financial profits to make rich people richer, in short to increase inequality in a world in desperate need of greater equity.

Absent the discussions that encouraged the sharing of their true stories, women whose experience failed to conform to the prevailing cultural story held themselves responsible for the failure. They assumed they were simply different, and thus in some way deficient. By breaking the silence to share their stories they ended their isolation and rose above self-doubt as they came to realize that they were in the very good company of a great many other wonderful women. Many then lent their voices to a growing chorus of women engaged in changing the cultural stories by which society had long defined women and their roles.

This bit here strikes me as particularly relevant to social justice movements...it's one reason why fat activism is so important to me, why it's important to share stories that break cultural assumptions about fat bodies and what it means to live in one. Most importantly, this idea of shifting the "failure" from the individual to the cultural construct that defined that failure in privileged terms that excluded the entirely valid experiences of many people.

One of the things Korten mentions is the Earth Charter, a fairly comprehensive statement of principles related to environmental, social, and economic justice that I like a great deal (although there was a spiritual/moral bent that I would want to shift to make more open to those who follow no spiritual path). It's a little more extensive than the Reclaiming Principles of Unity, but covers a lot of the same ground (although minus the witchy framework). In looking over the people involved with creating the Charter and maintaining its propagation in the world, I see a lot of diversity, but also a lot of powerful people; I'm not entirely certain the egalitarianism I find inherent in the values is also present in the actual operation....but then again, there's a whole thing about decentralized expansion - which breaks down hierarchies....so maybe it's more like Reclaiming than not.

Ahem. Anyway.

Sometimes I worry that I am not doing enough. I have no doubt there's more I can be doing everyday to live within my values.....but I also think it's important to recognize how much I'm already doing. Sure, for every radical action (like, say, catching graywater when I'm washing dishes and using it to water the plants - or growing some of my own food in an urban environment - or daring to be fat and not hate myself), there are multiple not-so-radical, not-so-awesome actions (like dying my hair with horrible chemicals - or sometimes getting frou-frou coffee from Starbucks - or buying a new pair of shoes when I have forty pairs at home already). I work a corporate job, and don't own a car. I use laundry detergent made by Proctor & Gamble, but biodegradable dish soap.

It's a process, working towards a sustainable life. I'm not yet ready to give away everything I own, wear sack-cloth, and sleep on a straw pallet....or pull myself entirely out of the capitalist world in which I was born. I add a little bit every day. I come closer every moment. I am compassionate for the times I don't do as well as I'd like, succumbing to convenience and privilege. I try again.

In summary, from Mr. Korten:

In everything you do, share the story of our human possibility and of our right and responsibility to create for ourselves and for future generations, the world of our shared dream. Our distinctive human capacity for reflection and intentional choice carries a corresponding moral responsibility to care for our Mother Earth and for one another. We must now test the limits of the individual and collective creative potential of our species as we strive to become the change we seek.

FUotD: SBD Guy on the el!!

2008-05-28T12:28:00.000-05:00

Typically, the "Fuck You of the Day" involves some national figure or group that has said or done something so terribly offensive that my brain can only just manage to kick out the words "Fuck You" in response. Today, however, we have a new kind of FUotD.

Hey, dude who farted right in my face on the goddamn el last night: FUCK YOU!!

Seriously, this dude ripped a truly foul SBD, with his ass mere inches from my nose. How rude is that shit??

For those unfamiliar with riding a CTA train, in a typical car there are four sets of seats that run parallel to the walls of the train, all of them abutting partitions that outline the doors of the car. The partitions are half metal (or possibly some sort of wood veneer?), half glass, with an open space of about ten inches between the two sections. Often, as the train fills up, people will lean their backs against the partition...if you happen to be sitting in one of the seats next to the partition - depending on the height of the person leaning on it - you may just be eye to asshole with a total stranger. Needless to say, ripping a fart in those circumstances is almost like shitting on someone's dinner plate.

So last night, I was on a pre-Cubs-game crowded train, and took the seat right next to one of the partitions. I tilted my head back against the wall behind me (thank gods I didn't lean against the partition itself - yikes!), and commenced snoozing. All went well while we were underground - Cubs fans got on at every stop, and a bunch who'd clearly been having some pre-game drinkies along Rush Street got on at Chicago and stood in the door areas, leaning against the partition. No worries so far....but then a few stops later, just as we were pulling away from Belmont....my nose detected something that was....just....not....right.

My eyes started watering, and I almost gagged. It smelled like this guy had opened a bag of sun-baked-decomposing-roadkill flavored potato chips in his pants!! I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and suggest he try a little fiber or something, 'cause DAYAM his bowels must surely be rotting from the inside out! I hurriedly tucked my nose into my sweater and managed to not suffocate in the methane cloud that had enveloped my head. A few seconds later, at Addison, the guilty party and his gaggle of friends traipsed off the train, leaving behind the ghost of a horrific and vomitous smell, not to mention me, fighting not to choke and/or puke.

It would not have been hard to turn around and aim that shit into some free space, or at least somewhere there wasn't a nose at ass level. Hell, it was only a couple minutes to Addison, where this dude could have ripped it in the open air....but NO, he had to send his nasty express mail right up my nostrils!!

I know everybody farts, man. It happens. It's natural and unavoidable, and I am not one of those prissy people who thinks farts only belong in bathrooms or when you're totally alone. Farts happen, and I get that. But. I also think that it's not all that hard to hold an awareness of where I'm farting, and try to avoid blowing a stinker right in someone's face.

So, yeah, dude, FUCK YOU. And may I suggest you try some Colon Blow?

American Idol.

2008-05-22T16:47:00.003-05:00

I don't like American Idol. This is probably not surprising to most people who've exchanged more than two words with me. American Idol, while certainly featuring many talented vocalists, is to genuine, original music what paint-by-numbers "Dogs Playing Poker" is to the "Mona Lisa." It's an assembly line, masterminded by Music Business impresarios with dollar signs in their eyes, taking fresh-faced youth and untried (?) talent and adding a goodly dose of Hollywood hype, a dash of media orgy, a thin veneer of "competition" and mass-marketing interactivity, and injecting it into some over-produced mindless gem of a pop song laden with hearts-and-bunnies imagery designed to appeal to twelve-year-old girls....and I believe that it not only contributes to the growing soul-less-ness of Music These Days, but also contributes to the premature deaths of music careers that crash and burn before their time because of inflated expectations and the emptiness of a glorified karaoke contest. I don't believe Simon Cowell gives a good goddamn if the pretty people on stage can sing two notes in a row on-pitch, if he thinks they'll make him a buttload of money.

People wonder why I'm not flattered when people suggest I should audition.

So, last weekend, I was home visiting the family in the wilds of Michigan, and my dad starts telling me about this contestant on American Idol he's really impressed by - he plays the guitar (left handed even), sings well, does songs with interesting angles, isn't like the other singers on the show. And he mentions that the dude did a version of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" that was just amazing and ass-kicking, making it so much more than a catchy dance tune. Of course, that was a familiar sentiment, since I'd had a similar reaction upon discovering Chris Cornell's awesome arrangement of that tune....which this guy was covering! Holy wow, that's not like anything I imagined could find its way to that show...maybe there's something to this dude, after all. Maybe there's something worthwhile involved in that clusterfuck of yuck.

With that in mind, I undertook to discover something about this David Cook who apparently won the whole contest. I tooled around the internets and found clips of most of the songs he sang on the show. And, well, not to put too fine a point on it...I'm actually impressed. I didn't hate what I heard. Actually, I really liked some of it, and was kind of pissed at the way they do abridged versions of songs on the show; I would've loved to hear him play with dynamics a little more in his version of Lionel Richie's "Hello." Not to mention, a full version of Dolly Parton's "Little Sparrow" could've been ass-kicking. The guy plays with his vocal range in a way I love, flipping octaves to punch up the intensity (a trick I use myself, so I may be biased)...and he also seems to have a thing for taking a song out of its typical context and genre-bending arrangements. That is awesome!

I'm still working on finding his pre-AI musical stuff, mostly because I want to find out if he's as good a songwriter as he is a signer and arranger. That makes the total package for me....and I can't decide if I'd rather find that he's a sucky songwriter and have my poor opinion of American Idol restored....or if I'd be okay with his being the exception to the rule.

Either way, I've been listening to David Cook, American (fucking) Idol, all day long. And I don't think I'm ashamed of that. Weird.

Today's outrage.

2008-05-22T16:45:00.001-05:00

I never really was all that hot for John Edwards as a presidential candidate (I've been a Hillary girl since, well, 1992?), but I always considered him as strong a candidate as either Obama or Clinton. And, since he's officially NOT running for veep (which totally makes me think of that truism from Lions for Lambs), I like what he's doing instead. Beefing up Head Start (of which I'm a beneficiary, by the by), Medicaid, SCHIP, and other programs that offer aid to low income families - especially children - is a great idea.

Disappointingly, though, it seems like corporate interests are running the show pretty much everywhere - first by maintaining a stranglehold on the intellectual property and patent system that keeps medicines only in the hands of those who can afford them (or profit by them) - second by destroying local food systems in favor of agribusiness that propagates GMO crops, enjoys significant government funding in the form of subsidies and grants for cleaning up their own unnecessary environmental messes, survives on the backs of underpaid and overworked labor, not to mention prioritizes profit over human life or environmental sustainability. With those powers at the wheel (and can anyone really argue that corporations aren't calling the shots here? how scary is it that drug companies are giving more to Democrats than Republicans?? REAL scary....and please note that Obama - he of the "no special interests" money position - got the largest number reported in that article...), it's a huge challenge to try and level the playing field for those living in poverty, in this country and around the globe.

In the context of my ongoing re-education about the geography and history of the planet, I found this article from The Independent really fascinating. Now, I hate bananas and don't eat them....but I know lots of people who do, and I think it would be a shame if there were no more bananas. Furthermore, I find it really fucking horrible how rich, white people seem to have swapped the cunning use of flags for equally unjust corporate takeovers, which trend this story illustrates nicely.

((Sidenote: I feel really disappointed in myself for not previously knowing the origin of the term "banana republic," which for some reason I thought was just a descriptor for countries in steamy equatorial regions that would be good for growing bananas. I had no idea it was such a blood-drenched term, and I'm furthermore very interested in following up this read with some digging about what countries currently embroiled in conflict of some sort might be suffering from this kind of corporate interference in their governments.))

I assume that most people think I'm a little crazy for thinking capitalism is evil and money is evil and corporations are evil and banks are evil and that most of the world's ills can be laid directly at the feet of one or more of those culprits. But this pattern is so clear to me, and so clearly WRONG. And killing people, and destroying the planet. Right now, I'm having trouble understanding how anyone can think money and banks and corporations and capitalism *aren't* evil.

FUotD: Maureen Dowd

2008-05-21T15:16:00.002-05:00

Hey, Maureen Dowd: FUCK YOU!

The Month of Tari: Hair Update!

2008-05-21T15:06:00.003-05:00

So, part of the Month of Tari was my plan to do something crazy with my hair. (Well, as crazy as I can get away with while working a corporate job, anyway - which, let's face it, ain't all that crazy.) I got up at 4:30 this morning to make that dream a reality.

(Now, 4:30 a.m. isn't all that unusual for me. I'm a morning person, to a degree that is almost freakish. I believe it's the Scandinavian farmfolk ancestry at work.)

So, in the wee hours, I gave myself a foil and a dye job. I am currenty sporting a reddish color with some blondish-reddish streaks. See:

((I recognize after uploading this snap that you can't actually really *see* the new dye job; but the picture is cute enough I'm leaving it up. Yes, I am just that enamored of myself.))

I've been cutting and coloring my own hair exclusively for many years now. I got very tired of spending craploads of money paying stylists to disregard my very clear, concise, specific instructions and give me the style they thought best suited my hair type and face shape. Or, in some cases, just to butcher it beyond recognition....like the time I asked for razored layers around my face and wound up with some weird kind of mullet (this resulted in my first pixie cut)....or the time I was recovering from a stint as a platinum blond and asked for something that would keep as much length as possible, but still clean up the dead and dying ends of overprocessed hair - and wound up with ragged non-sensical hair ranging from a half inch long to nine or ten inches, with no rhyme or reason, because apparently the stylist just cut the dead hair and left everything else untouched (this resulted in my second pixie cut).

Over the course of the years leading up to the second pixie cut, I'd cut my own hair a few times....mostly when struck by irresistible hair ennui in the middle of the night, or while getting ready for work. Sometimes I can't ignore the siren call of the scissors! And doing something different with my hair is a time-tested way I handle stress or life complications; it's easier than rearranging furniture, quieter than pounding on my guitar, and unlike gardening, doesn't depend on the weather. Plus, it's a great Zen experience, all about releasing attachment to the physical, recognizing the transitory nature of those sorts of superficial characteristics...because no matter how bad the botching of the hair, it will grow back (at least mine always has, anyway).

Since I just did the hair this morning, it's still spit-shiny and hard to tell if it turned out properly (I always think a dye job needs a few days to settle in)...but I like what I see so far, and I've had lots of commentary, AND not only did the dude who sold me my Vitamin Water flirt shamelessly, the dude who made my sandwich gave me free extra veggies. Either I'm dressed cuter than I think I am, the hair turned out, or I really AM just fucking fabulous. I mean, it's a fine line.

Amtrak rocks.

2008-05-20T18:34:00.003-05:00

Attention, Democratic Presidential Nominee (whoever you wind up being!):

When you're sitting in the White House, contemplating how to pull out of Iraq and stop worldwide starvation and genocide...here's something to keep in mind when it comes to domestic policy. Nothing takes the sting out of crap gas prices like cheap train tickets....especially if the rail system is maintained well enough to get people from origin to destination in an efficient, timely manner.

A big part of my car-free, green lifestyle has been riding Amtrak as much as possible, when travelling outside the Chicago area. I've taken it to New York, St. Louis, and various destinations in Michigan. I have plans to someday hop the City of New Orleans (will I take my guitar and sing a Steve Goodman cover? you betcha!) and even do the rail vacay to Glacier National Park.

I love Amtrak, dear Democratic Nominee, and I know it's not properly funded. But doing so would be good for the environment, good for people's pocketbooks, and good for public opinion of the U.S. worldwide. Let's stop pandering to automakers, and start making rail service a real alternative form of transport!

Thanks bunches,
Tari
Loyal Amtrak Rider, car free since March 2001

Also...

2008-05-20T17:40:00.002-05:00

This is awesome!

I'm not sure what it means for paper currency....but what a really awesome step to make the world more fair for blind people.

Tuesday Ruminations.

2008-05-20T17:28:00.000-05:00

I think it is human nature to separate the micro and the macro into nice, cozy separate boxes. I think the blurry lines between individual choices and the inextricably connected Big Picture are frightening on some insitinctual level - it challenges whatever it is in human brains (or maybe just ones bathed in capitalism and patriarchy and Western culture?) that individuates and helps us prioritize the survival of our genes over the survival of those *other* genes that are NOT ours. I think about this kind of paradox a great deal, which is why I feel like I spend a lot of time walking the razor-thin line between, er, "normal" (for lack of a better term) and some kind of Peak Experience. I see this dynamic in religion (a sort-of-like-a-human God v. the entirety of creation and uncreation being one seamless whole living being in all its diverse parts), in politics (individual freedom v. peaceful coexistence), in activism (my individual actions v. the faceless and overwhelming status quo), etc., etc., etc.

I think it's hard for one brain to comprehend the endless complications of even the most seemingly simple idea. A cup of coffee isn't just a cup of coffee - it's a product of an ancient process with millenia of history and context, with impact based on where and how it was grown and harvested and shipped and processed and transported and prepared and how I choose to drink it, not to mention the various social and cultural and economic and environmental factors for all the people involved in all those processes...and then there's the effect it has on my body when I drink it, the cultural implications of drinking coffee, how it affects my appearance and status and how the way I choose to drink that coffee reflects my personality and my lifestyle, the effects on my immediate environment and possibly the regional environment...but even holding an awareness of all those layers of complication, I have trouble not just focusing on the cup of coffee. I can only hold so much thought at one time, and I haven't yet progressed in my enlightenment enough to truly sip coffee with a full awareness of the vast network of inter-related factors tied to this two second moment of my life.

And therein lies, in my opinion, the central challenge humanity wrestles with as a species. Self. Universe. And the mushy middle between, where most of life fits.

I stumbled aboard this train of thought this morning while reading this piece. The writer talks about the idea of food activism and individual choices being a somehow more manageable alternative to massive environmental problems, like global warming or soil contamination or polluted water or deforestation or toxic chemicals in everything. It's an interesting way of looking at the environmental movement as it's become more and more mainstream over the past few years; I find it particularly interesting the way so much activism (especially the kind I hear about in the media) has shifted from nuclear protests and people chaining themselves to redwoods and laying in front of bulldozers....to more capitalist measures - conscious consumerism, as it were. That's a really noteworthy (and sort of disturbing) shift, and it brings up the idea of individual choice in a context of severely harmful systems of being.

((My inner conspiracy theorist says: How much of a shift from groups challenging systems, to individuals changing how they consume...how much of that shift is a total red herring?))

This theme popped up again for me, in reading the comments on this piece from The Guardian. As always with any story about fat people, there was a lot of "just eat less, and move more" (with various levels of courtesy or coherency) and also plenty of "get rid of your cars and bike everywhere" (not to mention "people just need to learn how to eat healthy" - which makes me wonder, what the fuck rock do people think these alleged ignorant people are living under that they don't know how to "eat healthy"? Seriously, I can't crack a newspaper, flip on a TV, listen to a radio, or surf the internet - or have a conversation with most of my friends and family - without having seventeen opinions about what "healthy eating" means shoved right down my throat! If anyone doesn't know how to eat healthy, it's because the only person they ever talk to is painted on a volleyball...) (/end rant). The premise of the article, though, was that there are systemic issues at work, not just individual choices...that food "choices" are less free than people want to think, that economic realities and various other cultural factors have an effect on fatness. Interestingly enough, the bugaboo of fatness leading to a decrease in life expectancy didn't come up in this article (via Common Dreams), which talked about how life expectancy has gone down, but mostly for poor people with little access to proper healthcare...which again begs the question: is it the individual, or is it the bigger picture? Magic Eight Ball says: Answer Not Clear.

I have said before (in answer to many, many questions) that "It's Not That Simple," and I always mean it. It's been my experience that very little in life is ever simple - and if it appears so, there's likely more to it than what's visible. The personal is political, the part affects the whole, as above - so below, all different ways of saying the same thing: what is done in this moment matters, and cannot be disconnected from what was done in the preceding moment or what will be done in the moment following. When we're talking about fighting presidential secrecy, that won't just be done by my writing to the White House and telling the President I think he's an asshole for legislating from the Oval Office and pissing on the Constitution - it will probably also take massive systemic change coming from Congress and broader, collective efforts to reestablish the checks and balances that separate a representative democracy from a fascist oligarchy. When we're talking about ending racism and sexism and sizism and ableism and looksism and other kinds of outdated (and yet, sadly, still present and active and pervasive) discrimination, it can't just be done by calling out some jerk for shitty comments at a press conference...it will probably also take a complete and total reframing of our cultural understanding of gender and race and ethnicity and all the other visible (and not visible) characteristics that mark the tremendous diversity of the human race. Saving the planet won't just happen because I buy local, organic food...it will take global reductions in greenhouse gas emissions, massive shifts in food and transportation systems, and an overhaul of what "lifestyle" means in a world on the brink of breakdown.

I recognize that I have some pretty radical ideas, in general. I sometimes want to give away everything I own and go walkabout in a veggie-powered RV, fer chrissakes (holy cows, I'm not the only one!). A lot of that has to do with wanting to distance myself from People. You know, Them. They are stupid and ignorant and different and intolerant and judgmental and whatever other adjectives apply. They are faceless and there are way more of Them than there ever are of Us. Part of my desire to go a-wand'ring is tied to my chronic boho hiraeth, but it's also part of how I manifest my own personal need to draw a line around myself and clarify that I Am Not Them. I separate myself from the Whole, because it makes it easier for me to simplify the messy chaos of life - it makes it harder for me to get hamstrung by the heartbreak that would inevitably haunt me if I really could see the impact of every moment I am alive.

But the harder I work to become more aware of my impacts on the world around me, the more I recognize that that line between me and the world around me is a creation in my head and doesn't really exist. And there has to be a way to apply this concept to all the systemic injustice and degradation in the world. I'm still working on that.

It ain't over.

2008-05-14T16:40:00.004-05:00

I got a memo from Hillary Clinton this morning. She's reminding those of us who've supported her campaign (yeah, I forked over some cash to elect the first female president; yer goddamn right I did) that it's not over yet. And as much as I'm sure the DNC and the mass media and maybe even most of the country would love it if Hillary would shut the fuck up and go away...I think she's right not to end the process prematurely. I don't love her recent comments equating "hard-working" and "white" - and I'm pissed and disappointed that she hasn't made a strong statement correcting an implication I truly hope she didn't intend - but this race is not over yet. The superdelegates are up in the air, the popular vote is still pretty freakin' close, and the convention hasn't happened yet.

Just like I maintained in 2000 when it was Al Gore, I don't think it's time yet to roll over and give up. I think this is still an open contest, and I'm really glad to see Hillary sticking with it.

And while I have tremendous appreciation for my senator, and will support him whole-heartedly if he's nominated, it's really galling that the gender politics are being completely ignored in this contest. It is unbelievable to me how unremarked this trend has been; people talking about how much they "hate" Hillary Clinton, not because they know her, but because she's "such a bitch" or because she's "playing politics" and "slinging mud" and whatever other horrible crimes have earned not just the usual level of distaste many reasonable people have for political creatures, but out and out hatred. This column from Marie Cocco really hit the nail on the head, in terms of pointing out just how completely acceptable misogyny really is in our culture. It's so unconscious that we don't even notice it, and when it's so pervasive in that way....how could it possibly not be part of a Presidential race involving the first truly viable female candidate? (Furthermore, how fucking pathetic is it that it's taken this long for there to BE a viable female candidate? Not to mention that she's only the second female candidate to even grace a major party presidential ticket...EVER.)

Misogyny is real. It happens every day. It happens when decent, well-meaning men presume that their wives are taking de facto responsibility for taking care of the house and the kids. It happens when I get an e-mail from my company's "Working Women's Group" inviting me to a seminar titled "The Role of Image and Presence in the Workplace," that promotes itself thus: "we will address getting the maximum from the visual and vocal factors that have an impact on your image and presence while minimizing distracting behaviors"...because goodness knows that women's visual and vocal factors don't have the same freedom that men's do. Misogyny happens when I (yeah, me) insult my male friends by calling them girls ("Dude, are you a *girl*? Stop whining!") (I am working on this, obviously.). It's everywhere, it's pervasive, and it's not fucking okay.

And, in this presidential race, as much as people want to call Hillary slimy and grasping and talk about how she and Bill are soulless power-junkies, as much as people want to say she's shady and a liar and accuse her of pandering and murder (Vince Foster!!) and all manner of scandal, as much as people throw names like "bitch" and "ball-buster" and "Harpy" and use words like "shrill" and "hysterical" and as much as they want to compare Hillary to fictional characters and such...I think maybe these people have stopped seeing Hillary as a person, as a woman who's worked very hard - who's scrambled the same way ALL politicians scramble (and yes, Mr. Obama, my darling Senator who I love and adore and voted for and will surely do again, you *are* a politician and you play the same twisted games as other politicians do, deny it all you want!) - who's done what she felt had to be done to serve the good of the people. She's no worse than any other politician...and I think she has a chance to be much better, even if only because she's following the worst President in history and total shit would be an improvement.

The truth I see is that the underlying message (whether or not the people spouting this misogynistic rhetoric realize it) is: "You are a girl. This is a Man's Job. Stop trying to do What Men Do, and get back in the fucking kitchen, bitch."

I'm with you, Hillary, in spirit and in pocketbook. This isn't a fucking hissy fit, it's the goddamned most important Presidential Race in recent history. Fuck anybody who implies that standing up for your beliefs until it's truly over is akin to terrorism. The good of the "party," the good of the country, is best served by the right person in the job, and until every voter has a chance to say otherwise, that person's last name is Rodham-Clinton.

The end of an era.

2008-05-12T22:33:00.002-05:00

I am no longer twenty-something. I am officially 30 years old. When people ask my age? It will start with a three, instead of a two. I was standing at a checkout, looking at the liquor/cigarettes age poster, and holy shit the date for liquor is practically ten years after I was born. Egad.

I have crow's feet and some gray hair (not that you can tell, since I have been dye-ing since I was a teenager anyway); I haven't been carded in forever. A couple dear friends took me to dinner - I didn't drink my weight in margaritas and only stop when the room started spinning. I didn't go to work, but that's because I spent my day at the DMV and tagging along with a friend to see the doctor. This kind of responsible, moderate behavior is....well, almost....mature. Surely there must be some kind of mistake.

I know it's not that big a deal in the grand scheme of world crises, but it's a big fucking deal to me. I reserve the right to be freaked out about it!!

And maybe get a new tattoo.