My Dog is so Cute

There isn't much else to say. He lives in America, so it's a long-distance ownership. It's complicated; he is in love with my mother's dog. He is so cute though, and I miss him always. Look at his little pug face!! He says, "Boof" instead of "Woof" and is generally magnificent.

I've been so busy

watching 30 Rock like it's my job. I'm on winter vacation, so to speak, and I've been very indulgent. How have I not seen this show before? It is honestly one of the funniest shows I've ever seen, ever. And Tina Fey has quickly become my hero. She is such a great writer, and her team of writers are truly gifted. She's smart, funny, liberal, creative, and generally great. The characters are such a fabulous mess, all of them.

So... if any one of my 4 followers or periodic drifters has been wondering why I've been so quiet, some of it is travel, some of it is holiday madness, and the rest of it is Tina Fey.

"I believe that the moon does not exist. I believe that vampires are the world's greatest golfers but their curse is they never get a chance to prove it. I believe that there are 31 letters in the white alphabet. Wait...what was the question?"

EU Court of Human Rights Rules Rules Bosnia-Herzegovina's Consitution Discriminatory Toward Roma and Jews

The European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) in Strasbourg (France) reportedly ruled on Tuesday that Bosnia’s constitution discriminated against Roma and Jews because it prohibited them to run for parliament or presidency.

The Hindu community has also urged Bosnia-Herzegovina to urgently modify its constitution to reflect that all its citizens are treated equally. Acclaimed Hindu statesman and president of Universal Society of Hinduism, Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA) on the 23rd of December, said that it was moral duty of Europe (which prided itself for its human rights record) and Bosnia-Herzegovina (a country of age-old cultures and fabulous mountain vistas) to take care of their minorities who had participated together with the majority in continent building. Europeans should leave the ethnicities behind and build a better Europe working together, Zed added.

Structuring European and world societies on the principles of pluralism would be a step in the right direction, Rajan Zed also argued.

According to an ECHR press release: The Bosnian Constitution, in its Preamble, makes a distinction between two categories of citizens: the so-called “constituent peoples” (Bosniacs, Croats and Serbs) and “others” (Jews, Roma and other national minorities together with those who do not declare affiliation with any ethnic group). The House of Peoples of the Parliamentary Assembly (the second chamber) and the Presidency are composed only of persons belonging to the three constituent peoples.

Tuesday’s judgment was given by the Grand Chamber of 17 judges, with Jean-Paul Costa (France) as President. ECHR, an international court to deal with violations of civil and political rights established in 1959, has delivered more than 10, 000 judgements.

*Article courtesy of Rajan Zed

I understand that Bosnia-Herzegovina and the Balkans in general has recently been through much dividing and reassembling. The ethnic and political conflicts in much of the Balkans is still electric. For those of you interested in the history of the area, refer to Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West and Balkan Ghosts by Robert D. Kaplan, probably the 2 best books on the region and truly well-written to boot. I think it is wonderful that the problems in Bosnia-Herzegovina's constitution have been brought to light, and hopefully this will spark political change, which in turn may begin to heal the enormous and dangerous rift between the different ethnic groups in the region. These people have been through so much, and embracing each other as fellow people in peace and goodwill can only help.

Startling EU Survey Results about the Plight of Roma

The results of recent European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights survey concluded that every second Roma was discriminated against. This European Union Survey on Roma also found that each discriminated Roma experienced about 11 incidents of discrimination yearly, 66-92 percent of Roma did not report discrimination because they felt that “nothing would happen or change” by reporting, about 86 percent could not name an organization that could assist them in case of discrimination, about 69 percent of Roma consider ethnic/immigrant discrimination was widespread.

The survey pointed out that one in four Roma was victim of crime, one in five Roma was victim of racially motivated crime, each crime victim Roma experienced about four incidents in a year, 81 percent crime victim Roma considered victimization racially motivated, 65-100 percent Roma did not report personal victimization to police because “they were not confident that the police would be able to do anything”, one in three Roma were stopped by police and half of Roma thought they were stopped because they were Roma, and Roma stopped by police experienced four stops a year.

Rajan Zed, acclaimed Hindu statesman and president of Universal Society of Hinduism; and Rabbi Jonathan B. Freirich, prominent Jewish leader in Nevada and California in USA; in a joint statement in Nevada today, said that it was almost 2010 and Roma apartheid in Europe was still continuing openly and blatantly in full view of the world with no end in sight.

Zed and Freirich pointed out that the alarming condition of Roma people is a social blight for Europe and the rest of the world as Roma reportedly regularly face social exclusion, racism, substandard education, hostility, joblessness, rampant illness, inadequate housing, lower life expectancy, unrest, living on desperate margins, language barriers, stereotypes, mistrust, rights violations, discrimination, marginalization, appalling living conditions, prejudice, human rights abuse, racist slogans on Internet, and more.

Zed and Freirich urged European Union and United Nations not to stay apathetic and silent spectator when fellow Roma brothers/sisters are facing blatant injustice and discrimination in Europe. He urged them to show strong political will, courage, and commitment in support of Roma cause.

References to Roma people in Europe, who numbered around 15 million, reportedly go as far back as ninth century AD. Zed and Freirich asked, how many more centuries Roma had to reside in Europe to prove that they were “real and equal” Europeans like any other?

*Information supplied by Rajan Zed, Hindu statesman and president of Universal Society of Hinduism

I hear it's best to laugh

I've been on hiatus for a few weeks. I suppose I needed a break. A lot has been going on-- I'm traveling soon to a mystery destination, and I'm looking wildly for funding for school. Also, I started volunteering with Barnardos, a charity that helps abused children. Check out the website here! I really like volunteering there and I love all the good work that the charity does. Child abuse is an enormous problem, and helping kids out of a bad situation right away is absolutely essential. It gives them a chance to have a happy future even though terrible things have already happened. It's a chance to thrive, and hopefully, a chance to have a childhood.

While I was volunteering though, this filthy man wandered into the store. I say filthy for a few different reasons. He was older, perhaps in his late 60's, and the stench emanating from him was powerfully rancid. My stomach flipped as it often does when I encounter a person with bad character or bad intentions. He wandered up to me as I was flitting about the shop and asked where I'm from. His lips seemed to make kissing gestures, but I thought perhaps he had a disease like Parkinsons that affects muscle control. "America," I said, but I really didn't want to talk to him. But he's a potential customer; I have to I thought.
"Where?" he asked again, stepping closer to me, the smell curling sickly into my lungs
"America," I said again, taking a step back.
"Where?" a step closer.
"AMERICA!"
"Where in America?
"New Hampshire."
He stepped closer again and his lips pursed in a flurry of kisses. Then he looked me up and down and sneered. "I want to fuck you," he growled.
I shot him a filthy looked and turned to look at the volunteer behind the counter, closest to the phone incidentally, for help. She stared at me blankly. I turned back around and the pervert was already walking out the door, laughing.

I was kicking myself all day as I thought of everything I should have said or done. My mother told me that when a man flashed her and she pointed and laughed at his naked display, tears welled up in his eyes and he ran away. I should have laughed! I kept thinking, but I didn't feel like laughing. I felt depressed and small. What kind of weirdo walks into a charity that helps abused children and then abuses the volunteers? And why, why does this kind of thing keep happening to me? Haven't I been through enough degradation? Haven't we all?

Think fast; we have to be prepared.

Where is the spirit of bonhomie?

Hindus ask financial compensation for Czech Roma women victims of forced sterilization

I got this email today for immediate release regarding the heinous crime of forced sterilzation against Roma women:

"Welcoming Czech Prime Minister’s 'regret' over involuntary sterilization of Roma women, Hindus have demanded fair and adequate financial compensation to the victims.

Acclaimed Hindu statesman Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA) today, said that Czech Prime Minister Jan Fischer should offer formal 'apology' as the misconduct in this case was very serious and just 'regret' would not be sufficient to heal the deep wounds caused. Perpetrators should be prosecuted for the irreversible crimes against these women which permanently deprived them from having children.

Zed, who is the president of Universal Society of Hinduism, further said that neighboring Slovakia also now needed to acknowledge this blunder and apologize on this issue. Czech Republic should make Roma upliftment her first priority as they were facing apartheid like conditions. Their maltreatment was a dark stain on the face of Czech Republic and Europe.

Rajan Zed argued that Roma people in Czech Republic reportedly faced violent attacks, stereotyping, racism, prejudice, growing gap between Roma and other Czechs, fear, beatings, poor quality housing, systemic employment and overall discrimination, persecution, throwing of Molotov cocktails, social exclusion, segregated schools, marginalization; refused service at restaurants, stores, discos, etc.; municipalities/towns failing to support them; and the state being unwilling or unable to offer protection.

Zed stressed that the country of Franz Kafka, Antonin Dvorak, Jaroslav Hasek, Karlovy Vary, and rich cultural heritage should not continue staying apathetic and silent spectator ignoring Roma apartheid."

I absolutely agree that expressing regret is not enough. Forced sterilization is genocide, and a formal apology plus compensation need to be given by the Czech and Slovak governments. That would take another step toward mending the very broken relationship between Roma and non-Roma people. No one can give those women back the lives they may have wanted, or their bodies intact, but the government can at least try to make up for the many, many wrongs they committed.

I have received so many emails lately about the Hindu community speaking on behalf of the Roma community, and it really touches me. I'm so happy to see this solidarity. We are all people who deserve love and rights.

Hindus helping Roma

Hindus ask new Sofia mayor to urgently improve Roma plight

Hindus have strongly urged newly elected mayor of Sofia (Bulgaria) Yordanka Fandakova to improve the plight of Roma people residing in Sofia, who are reportedly facing apartheid like conditions.

Rajan Zed, acclaimed Hindu statesman, in a statement in Nevada (USA) today, said that mayor Fandakova should make Roma upliftment her first priority as their maltreatment was a dark stain on the face of Sofia and Bulgaria.

Zed, who is the president of Universal Society of Hinduism, stressed that it was simply immoral to continue staying apathetic and silent spectator ignoring Roma plight, who reportedly regularly faced social exclusion, racism, substandard education, hostility, joblessness, rampant illness, inadequate housing, lower life expectancy, unrest, living on desperate margins, stereotypes, mistrust, rights violations, discrimination, marginalization, appalling living conditions, prejudice, human rights abuse, etc.

Commissioner for Human Rights of Council of Europe Thomas Hammarberg, who recently concluded a three-day visit to Sofia, visited a Roma settlement in the Republika district of Sofia where he assessed the living conditions as inhumane. “No one should live in these conditions in today’s Europe” he declared.

Capital and largest city of Bulgaria, Sofia is the second oldest city in Europe whose roots can be traced back to about 7000 years. Lonely Planet has described Sofia as "city waking up after decades of slumber".

Home Adventure

It's a bizarre concept, travel. A year ago I wanted to flee NH and all my bad memories rooted there and in MA. I wanted to escape America and its recession. I arrived in Ireland with the same memories, swimming in a worse recession. I'm still glad that I traveled, but it was a drastically different experience than I anticipated. And now that I'm full of distance and poverty-and-time hewn wisdom I discover that the adventure I most want to embark on this moment is home, to NH, where the snow, my friends, my complicated family, my good and bad memories, and my blind black pug wait for me. I really want to go back for a few weeks for the winter holidays, and if fate and family intervene like they suggest they will, maybe my want will materialize. I am so excited just thinking about travelling to Portsmouth, Boston, and all the places I loved or that I just knew. I remember being in those places years ago, chewing on pens in my favorite cafes with an open notebook and skinny chai lattes, wishing to be away.

Blood Lust

As some may or may not know, I'm seriously squeamish. Not a fan of the red stuff... actually, it's so intense that I am likely to faint if the conversation turns at all gory.

Now, lately I've been watching re-runs of America's Next Top Model for a little research-- I was curious about the way the show dealt with race, sexuality, and body image. I was intending to write an article about the problematic lens of the show and the affects it may have on young women, but there was so much material that my analytical skills were somewhat overwhelmed. I doubt I'll ever write the article and I gave up on the show. But before I gave up, I noticed a very interesting contestant from cycle 12, Allison Harvard.

Aside from the fact that I think she is stunningly beautiful in the most intriguing way, she is a great artist with a fascination with blood, guts, and all things that make me lose consciousness. Her art is on her flickr account: here. She piqued my curiosity. In a Four Four interview she says that she finds blood to be graceful, especially nosebleeds, and that she loves painting them. She goes on to say that nosebleeds can be innocent enough, or they could be a sign of something much more serious like blood disorders, but by depicting them in art it lessens their harshness.

That resonated with me so strongly; so often when I see blood or violence in art (visual, cinematic, literary...) I feel that it intensifies it, and consequently I have difficulty enduring a lot of art. I can't help but feel that I'm missing out, but my senses overwhelm my desire to appreciate. But the simple, truthful way that she explained her opinion on blood translated to art, and the fact that blood is an organic and amazing fluid that does wonderful things for our bodies just took hold of me, and for a moment, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked her up on youtube and delighted in her awkward yet witty humour, and I even convinced myself to watch a video of her doused in fake blood. It took a lot of deep breathing and the repetition, "It's fake, it's fake, it's fake," but I made it through the full 2:30 minutes. I feel like I was given a gift! So, thank you Allison Harvard, for your fantastic art, alarming beauty, and your simple philosophy, "blood is graceful."

A Hungarian Hospital Makes Efforts to Honor Roma Traditions

Some more good news on the Roma Rights front, a hospital in Gyongyos has reportedly set up a special room for Roma patients and their visitors to practice their cultural rituals.
This makes me very happy. The more gestures of tolerance extended by people and institutions, the more assimilated the Roma people will feel. It will also remind others that the Roma people have an important place in society. We are all kin. Keep the love flowing. Read the full article from The Budapest Times, "Hindus laud Hungary hospital for attempt to honor Roma traditions." I summarize:

Acclaimed Hindu statesman and president of Universal Society of Hinduism, Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA), November 10th, 2009, described this gesture as a “step in the right direction” and urged other hospitals of Hungary also to make similar accommodations to speed-up the integration of Roma.

This hospital in eastern Hungary was reportedly the scene of a cultural misunderstanding in 2002 when about a dozen Roma and police officials were injured in the conflict over the mourning behavior of Roma over the death of a relative. Roma have reportedly certain traditions linked to birth and death and they expressed their emotions differently than other Hungarians. This hospital is also reportedly considering having Roma liaison officers.

Zed reports that in Hungary, despite various government initiatives, Roma continuously suffer blatant discrimination, shanty town living, an atmosphere of hostility, huge unemployment rate, lower life expectancy, prejudice, significantly higher school dropout rate, racism, bias and stereotyping, school segregation, social exclusion, mistrust, human rights violations, etc. According to an estimate, less than 1% of Roma obtained higher education degrees.

These injustices are unfortunately true in many other countries including Romania and Italy. The Roma population in Hungary is estimated to be at 1 million, which makes Hungary home to the largest Roma minority in the world. The Roma people have been living in Hungary since the 14th century.

Zed stressed that it was moral obligation of Europe to take care of its largest minority Roma population and stop human rights violations suffered by them, who numbered around 15 million and lived in apartheid like conditions. There seemed to be no coherent and effective policy to assimilate them into the society. Their alarming condition was a social blight for Europe and the rest of the world.

Living Authentically

I've been thinking a lot about the idea of living authentically. I always thought that I was really doing what I wanted to be doing, I mean, I am writing and publishing, I got into the MLitt programme I wanted, so on and so forth. But I find this unemployment thing, the whole running out of food thing, not having a place thing, etc. is getting me down. As time has marched on over this past year of being stranded, I've been slipping deeper and deeper into a kind of bland stasis. I'm watching way more TV than, well, ever. For 4 years I didn't even own one, but now I have "shows." After I scan the papers and sites for jobs, I flick on the TV and lose my mind in comedy and nature documentaries. Granted, some of the writing is excellent, and I know more about mammals, amphibians, and deep sea creatures than I will ever need to know (Yay!), but I'm not exactly happy. Actually, far from it. I have several writing projects, but they are nowhere near complete, I have a stack of fabulous books that I've been meaning to read, and a list of journals to submit to, and yet, I'm one lazy bitch. I do walk 5-10 miles a day and I do yoga about once a week, but even so, I used to do yoga daily because it's what I love. I'm not even writing daily over the past few months. What's wrong with me?

At first I thought, well, I'm just depressed, which rationally makes sense. Being in a state of abject poverty is stressful and can easily turn depressing. But, I know myself better than that. Then I thought, I'm just not feeling well. It's been a trying year, which is also true, but, it doesn't seem to be the main issue. I've been through worse. I've felt worse. A few years ago I had scurvy. It's not that bad at the moment.

So?

It turns out I'm just plain scared. Yup. I'm afraid to live authentically. I'm afraid to really and truly apply myself. I have been applying myself this year, sometimes quite a lot, but not consistently a lot. I have really bad weeks where I slip into oblivion, and that is just not "me." I'm afraid because when I was a child my abusers told me through their actions and words that I was inherently bad, weak, and deserving of abuse. I thought I had shaken these ideas loose, but they seem to have crept under my skin again. Upon deep meditation I realized that I had this belief that if I became my full, desired self, terrible things would happen to me and that people would hurt me again. That, of course, is preposterous. I'm proud of all I've achieved this year, and I know I can do more. I know I can work harder, and I know I'd be happier that way. So, I'm saying, "Screw you, Fear," and I'm dedicating myself to living authentically. I'll let you know how it goes. Authentic day 1, I submitted to another journal, edited a batch of poems, and wrote some stacked up correspondences, despite my raging cold (which is dizzying and yucky, but not incapacitating).

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has been holding back. There's nothing scary about it. Go forth and live authentically!

I'm a calendar girl!

Scars Publications has put out their 2010 Sexy Poets Calendar, and I'm Ms. September. My poem, "Ash" is published beside me as well. You can buy it here: http://www.cafepress.co.uk/Sexy_Poets if you want to fill 2010 with the sexiest poets around! At least check out the link for a preview....

For any Americans interested in buying it, here's the American website: http://www.cafepress.com/Sexy_Poets

Madonna raises $16,600 for Roma (Gypsy) children

That's right, Madonna is making me proud again. Thanks to Rajan Zed, Nevada Statesman, for emailing this information to me. I have edited slightly for brevity, but I quote,

Madonna donated one of her favorite specially made pair of autographed designer skyscraper gold heels Christian Dior shoes to a charity supporting education of Roma children, which was auctioned off at the fifth annual Ovidiu Rom Halloween Charity Ball held in Bucharest, Romania. One of the golden heels was reportedly marked with kisses and a heart by her while the other was autographed "Love Madonna". Oscar nominated Hollywood star Ethan Hawke (Training Day) reportedly spoke at the Ball.

A gold chain donated by Oscar winner actress Vanessa Redgrave (Mary, Queen of Scots) was auctioned off at about $8, 300. Money thus collected will be used to buy clothes and schoolbooks for Roma children, according to reports.

Welcoming Madonna for supporting Roma people, Hindus have urged her to “wholeheartedly” undertake Roma cause and do substantially more than just donating a used pair of shoes for the Roma charity.

Acclaimed Hindu statesman Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA) today, said that Madonna, who was principally against Roma discrimination and who was the highest earning musician of the world making around $110 million in a 12-month period, should do more for the Roma people, who were facing apartheid conditions.

Zed, who is president of Universal Society of Hinduism, pointed out that being one of the world’s most powerful celebrities, Madonna would be very effective in focusing public opinion world over on apartheid of 15-million Roma people of Europe. Many Hollywood and other entertainment bigwigs had successfully worked against South Africa’s apartheid in the past.

Rajan Zed argued that Madonna had promoted humanitarian causes world over and Roma would be the next worthwhile cause for her to undertake. If she wanted his services in regard to Roma cause, he was willing to support her. Madonna should not stay apathetic and silent spectator when fellow Roma brothers/sisters were reportedly facing blatant injustice and discrimination in Europe, he said and added that Roma had reportedly recently faced heightened discrimination in Hungary, Romania, Italy, etc.

The alarming condition of Roma people is a social blight for Europe and the rest of the world as they reportedly regularly face social exclusion, racism, substandard education, hostility, joblessness, rampant illness, inadequate housing, lower life expectancy, unrest, living on desperate margins, language barriers, stereotypes, mistrust, rights violations, discrimination, marginalization, appalling living conditions, prejudice, human rights abuse, racist slogans on Internet, etc., Hindu statesman pointed out.

Rajan Zed further said that references to Roma people in Europe reportedly went as far back as ninth century AD. How many more centuries Roma had to reside in Europe to prove that they were “real and equal” Europeans like any other, he asked.

Madonna was reportedly booed and jeered at her Bucharest concert in August by thousands of fans when she sympathized with Roma people. Cheers reportedly gave way to jeers, when Madonna paused midway before a sell-out crowd of about 60,000 in Bucharest during her song La Isla Bonita in her about two-hour concert, part of her worldwide "Sticky and Sweet" tour, and touched on the plight of Roma people, showing the deeply entrenched prejudice against Roma in Europe.

Roma are believed to have their roots in the Indian subcontinent.

I think this is a wonderful step in the right direction. I do truly hope that Madonna takes up the cause of Roma Rights, because the Roma people have been ignored for too long. Education is an enormous problem; I find that most people I talk to don't realize that Roma are an ethnic group with a culture and a need for rights and protection. Madonna, with all her fame and influence, would be the perfect spokesperson because of her ability to reach so many people through her music, charity, and personality. She has a good heart, and I hope she realizes not only the importance of this issue, but also the emergency. I also love to hear that other influential people, like Rajan Zed, are speaking on behalf of the Roma people and are urging others to support their rights. Unfortunately, the world is not safe yet for Roma, but I think with education, change, and love, this will change. If you can't open your wallets to the cause then open your mouths. Keep talking about this issue, keep reminding people that Roma discrimination is a crime that is being committed over and over again every day, all over the world, and that there are things we can do (like writing to government officials and the UN, and supporting roma rights organizations, etc.) to give the Roma people fair treatment and equal rights!

"The Harp-Snapper" out in The Mom Egg

That's right, my lovelies. My poem "The Harp-Snapper" is out in the new issue of The Mom Egg, their first online issue. This is an awesome journal that deals with themes of motherhood and mothers. So get in the genetrix groove and get reading!

Here's the link to the current issue

Celebrate poetry!

Irish Judge Makes Racist Statements Against Roma

Outrage fills me as I write this. The ridiculously one-sided and poorly informed Independent published this article Roma raise children to steal-- judge. The title, which should be in scare quotes and is stated as though this ridiculous claim is fact, tells a shameful story. Judge Aingeal Ni Chonduin made this outrageous statement after sentencing a 16 year old mother to 7 days in jail and a 200 euro fine for stealing clothes and children's shoes. The girl was brought over by her partner, 5 years older than her, when she was 13. She had her child at 15. The Health Service Executive had conducted welfare assessments into the girl's situation, but did not deem that any action was necessary despite the glaringly obvious fact that she is a victim of statutory rape.

Judge Ni Chonduin made this obscene generalization: "That seems to be the culture, that is the way the families function, unfortunately, to go about to steal," said regarding the girl's circumstances. She also said it seemed that the children were "raised" to steal.

"It is a different culture, it does not go with our ways and our shops are being robbed blind," she said.

What a complete OUTRAGE! This clearly racist woman should be removed from her post. How DARE she accuse an entire culture and ethnicity of raising their children to steal based on the case of one desperate young mother who was clearly trying to provide for her child! And saying these untrue, provocative remarks during a time of depression about an ethnic group that is already regularly discriminated against world-wide is not only disgusting and irresponsible, but also outright dangerous.

Thankfully, I'm not the only irate person. These quotations were taken from the far more responsible newspaper The Herald, Anger as judge says Roma children are raised to steal.

Pavee Point, which runs a Roma programme, expressed disappointment."It is not part of Roma culture or any culture that I know of to raise children to steal," a spokeswoman said."The vast majority of Roma parents would be horrified with that suggestion. It's not helpful for anybody in authority to make comments that only serve to stereotype and scapegoat an already marginalised community. I'm sure there are some members of every community who are not raising their children correctly and are engaged in deviant behaviour, but that doesn't mean the whole community is."

The Immigrant Council of Ireland said the judge's remarks were "inappropriate and unfair", while Pavee Point Travellers Centre said they further "scapegoated" the Roma community.

Thaindian News reports:

Hindus have asked for resignation of the Ireland judge who reportedly accused Roma community of raising their children to steal.

Hindu statesman Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA) today, said that it was simply not acceptable from an honorable judge to blame the whole ethnic group of about 15-million people for a wild allegation like this one.

Dealing with a case of Roma teenager at the Dublin Children’s Court on Wednesday, Judge Aingeal Ní Chonduin reportedly accused the Roma community of raising their children to steal saying they were responsible for “our shops being robbed blind”.

Zed, who is president of Universal Society of Hinduism, argued that this did not reflect well with one of the world’s most beautiful countries of James Joyce and William Butler Yeats and known world over for its warmth and welcome. They also urged leadership of Ireland’s majority Roman Catholic and other religious establishments and religious leaders to come out openly against this accusation as religions told us to help the helpless.

Few months back, Roma residents in the nearby Northern Ireland were reportedly terrified and forced to flee their homes due to repeated racist violence.

This was happening in the middle of Europe, which claimed to be the torchbearer for the entire world regarding human rights. Was this the way in which the civilized societies functioned in Europe, asked Rajan Zed.

-Sampurn Media

Speak out, my humanitarian friends! Demand Judge Aingeal Ni Chonduin's removal!! Make some noise! Remind people that Roma rights are worth supporting! The future of humanitarianism is in all of our hands! This judge has made a racist statement that shows that she is no judge at all. Lies about the Roma people stop now!

Words remembered and forgotten

And misplaced. I notice that since I have been moving and traveling around the USA and Europe my accent and idioms have become rounded, reshuffled, and resurfaced. I'm saying Irish idioms as though I've said them all my life. Instead of vite-a-mins I say vit-a-mins... and then there is my renewed love of bluegrass and funny little southern similes born from college, and all my New Hampshire, northern turns of speech have suddenly blended into the onslaught of new words and ways. Only the resilient stay, but, I'm not really sure that they were "the original" speech. German, Spanish, French, and Italian have slipped in too, jumbling with each other and poking fun at my English. At first, I was alarmed, and tried to re-instate my fading American accent and reclaim and my quirky New Englandisms as though my personality would disappear along with them if I didn't work fast to recover them, store them sagely, make back-ups.

But then more I tried to remember, the more I forgot. I remembered saying "I'm wicked tired of this jet-lag," in Italy, and "Auf Wiedersehn" to my grandmother in New Hampshire. And didn't I speak Spanish in Virginia? Didn't I order lunch perfectly in Madrid? Didn't I tell L's mom that getting financial aid from the states is like pulling teeth from a horse? What are the infinite ways to say, "It's colder than a witch's tit?" Didn't S murmur "Git 'er dun," in Dublin? Didn't that perfect gentleman say "Bonsoir" so sweetly?

This struggle quickly birthed a understanding. I wasn't losing anything. I'm gaining an accent that reflects all the places I've loved and the sounds I've soaked up. Every year that passes, every country I stay in, all the languages I learn shape my accent, shape my brain. And my personality has always been bigger than Epsom or Hampstead NH. It's all ok. Remember and forget. Learn.

Change War for....

I really liked this little montage in Cork city "Change War for ...." It's so sweet, innocent, and happy. And war sucks, don't you agree? Hugs, parties, and flowers are so much better. What would you change war for?

Decidedly not listening to jazz

The jazz weekend in Cork starts tonight and not having the bus fare into town and not wanting to walk 10 miles in the dark puts me in the house in the B-Ghetto. I know there are many things I could be doing: I could patch my other jeans, read about wine science, clean, or engage myself with a patronizing TV documentary. I just can't convince myself to embrace the joy of a domestic night in when I know that small city magic is occurring down the street just out of reach of my wallet. Is this myopia? Maybe. Sometimes a dirty kitchen just isn't enough adventure for me. Or maybe I need to be more creative, like making a replica NH state capital building out of expired ready-break and sultanas.

New Facet

I like to blog about subjects which I feel passionately about, such as Poetry, Literature, and Writing; Roma-Gypsy Rights, and Human Rights in general; Feminism; Nature and the Environment; Politics; Love; Baby Ducks and Puppies; etc. But I also love food. I'm going to talk a bit about that now too.

Food is weird for me because I have Celiacs Disease and a soy, onion, and a few other allergies. Plus I'm sort of a vegetarian (Yeah, I know that makes no sense). What I mean is, I was a strict vegetarian for 13 years, but my many recent health issues have required me to begin to incorporate some fish and chicken into my diet. I get quite sick without them and I haven't found a way around it. SO, really I'm a former vegetarian with good intentions. And it's difficult to eat at restaurants without getting really sick, but luckily I love to cook, especially Italian and Indian food.

Really quick suggestion: Roasted Kale

I discovered this 5 minutes ago! Take a few bunches of kale... adapt for your eaters. Wash and strip the leaves from their tough stems. Dry with paper towels. Spread onto baking tray and drizzle lightly with good quality extra virgin olive oil. Then sprinkle with good quality sea salt and pepper to taste. Stick in the oven at... oh, 350 F and let roast for 5 minutes, keeping close watch. Then flip the little leaves over and roast for another few minutes. They should be crisp, not burnt. Then, eat!

It has a high-ish fat content due to the olive oil, but they are good fats, and the entire snack is quite healthy and really delicious, even if you normally don't like kale. And kale is an extremely healthy green vegetable full of vitamin C and K, plus lutein, zeaxanthin, and calcium. It's also an anti-inflammatory and full of anti-oxidants.

Ta-da!

Swans

While L, his mom, and I were adventuring around the back of the island these swans came out of the sea and waddled us to us, hissing, honking, and looking for food. It was so magical to be so close to these creatures so often described in myth and folklore, but it occurred to me that their 'realness' was what made me love them. They carried off no Leda that day. They only wanted what everyone wants, to thrive. The swan represents poetry, spirituality, and the poets' spirit, so I'm taking their vocal appearance as a good omen.

Goodbye Ireland, Hello Scotland!

Well, in September '10. I got into the MLitt Creative Writing programme at the University of St. Andrews! I'll be studying poetry starting next September. I AM SO EXCITED!

Two New Poems-- The 13th Warrior

Hey Everyone,

Two of my poems, "Babysitting," and "In the Waiting Room," came out in The 13th Warrior recently, another groovy journal. Check them out here and support poetry! Hope you like them!

(This is some graffiti I captured in Cork city)

And Now I Look Like a Woman

I have been meaning to write this for a while now, but as with all new endeavors, I needed some time to process. I stopped shaving totally, all together about 2 months ago. Poverty put the idea in my head, and then fashion feminism cemented it. I couldn't really afford another razor blade, and my skin was so irritated from shaving with soap and dull razors that I just stopped for a week or so. I asked my husband if he "minded" and he burst out laughing, "It's your body and you are a woman, and grown women have hair. Of course I don't mind. And even if I did, why should you care? It's your body. You have a right to your hair. When did women start shaving anyway?"

I always considered myself a feminist in the true sense of the word. Why on earth would I ask my husband if he "minded"? Obviously culture has done some naughty things to my brain. So I did a little research and stumbled upon this article, "Caucasian Female Body Hair and American Culture" by Christine Hope. According to Hope's research, the fashion industry began "encouraging" American women to shave their underarms around 1915, when sleeveless fashions became popular. Harper's Bazaar featured an ad stating: "Summer Dress and Modern Dancing combine to make necessary the removal of objectionable hair," which appears to be the beginning of degrading women's body hair in America. The war against leg hair appeared when fashion shifted and allowed women to display more than just an ankle. According to Hope, convincing women to shave their legs was more challenging, so advertisers got creative. "Some advertisers as well as an increasing number of fashion and beauty writers harped on the idea that female leg hair was a curse."

Well that was the last straw for me! I stopped shaving that day, permanently. Despite my new freedom, I still felt ashamed of my body hair though, so much so that I actually became anxious in social situations! I'm bisexual and have had both male and female partners, but it was always my previous male partners who felt strongly about my body hair, one of them saying he preferred "hardwood floors" which was his stupid euphemism for "the pre-pubescent girl style." (P.S. This guy was also physically, sexually, and emotionally abusive). The extent of my anxiety alerted me that something was wrong. What did I think was going to happen? Did I think that men, women, and children would shield their eyes from the soft black patches under my armpits? Did I think that the bus driver would strike me as I hitched up my skirt to step on the bus? And, more importantly, did I think they would be justified? What a scary world that would be! I had to think more seriously about this, about taking control over my own body, owning my natural womanhood, loving every little hair because it's mine and it's supposed to be there.

This blog post "The Politics of Body Hair" by Anji on her awesome feminist blog, Shut Up, Sit Down is a wonderful exploration of culture, body hair, and looking like a woman. I agree with every word! I quote,

"Much of this can be attributed to the fetishisation of youth. Like glossy hair, bright eyes and unlined skin, hairlessness gives the body the appearance and feel of a young girl’s, or what I once saw described on the website of a hair removal product as a ‘prepubescent appeal’. It is curious that in a society where paedophilia is so reviled and such a huge problem, it is thought of as harmless and ordinary that men live out their paraphilic fantasies by requiring that the women they are exposed to look as young as possible. Pornographic media advertises its ‘barely legal teens’. Actresses are routinely referred to as ‘girls’ rather than women. The image of the ’sexy school girl’ is accepted and even desired, not just in pornography but in advertising, music video and themed nightclubs. Women slather on creams and apply blusher to their cheeks in order to attain a more ‘youthful’ appearance. Cosmetic surgeons and expensive underwear promise to give the illusion of the ‘firm’, ‘pert’ and ‘perky’ breasts which generally only occur naturally in adolescent girls. Most curiously of all, women are required to remove the most visible, prominent physical sign that they have entered adulthood – their bodily hair."

Just now, two months after the fact, am I beginning to relax with my new, adult woman body. The belief that body hair is ugly was so strongly ingrained in me by my culture, my exes, and my mother (who tirelessly degraded my body) that it really took a lot of positive affirmation for me to become comfortable. But ultimately, it is people like Anji and my husband who reminded me of all the fantastic feminist reasons why I was inspired to give up shaving in the first place (and no, not because of dull razors and crappy soap, although that helped). Also, the idea that I am supposed to look this way for a biological reason certainly gave me a wake-up call. Anji says,

"Grown women are, after all, meant to have hair on their armpits, vulva and legs. There is nothing ‘unnatural’ about a hairy woman; if there were then the hair would not grow there in the first place. Likewise, there is nothing ‘unfeminine’ about a hairy woman; if femininity is defined as ‘like a woman’ then a woman in her natural state is by definition as feminine as she can be. Indeed, one could say it is the hairless woman who is ‘less feminine’, as she removes parts of her natural, womanly body."

The fact is, it is a totally unreasonable "standard of beauty" that convinces women that they want to shave, or that they "prefer" themselves shaved. It's just another way to control women, to keep them looking like girls, and to deny them their natural bodies, which are ultimately the paragon of beauty. So ladies, what's it going to be? Repression and Razors or Liberation and Fluffiness? I love my fluffy self. I look like a woman.

Roma Children Drowned before an Apathetic Public

The Picture that Shames Italy EPA

I have read and re-read this story of the two Roma (Gypsy) girls drowned on a beach in Naples, Italy and the beach-goers continuing to sunbathe beside their corpses as if the dead children were nothing but seashells. This is a news story from July 2008, but it is just as pertinent this year. It is truly gruesome, but unfortunately, it does not surprise me. Racism has no boundaries, which is why it must be conquered by love. We are all people.

To be balanced, I have two news sources, The Independent "The Picture that Shames Italy," and EveryOne (a human rights organization) "Two Children of the Ethnic Group Roma Drown in Naples." Both are excellent articles covering the terrifying incident, but EveryOne has done some more digging, finding the story that the girls went into the water of their own volition a little hard to swallow.

Two girls Cristina, aged 14, and Violetta, aged 14, were selling trinkets on the beach with their two cousins, aged 13 and 11, and drowned in the rough tide. The Independent credits their drowning to their exhaustion and the temptation of the cool sea during the hot day, but EveryOne points out how unusual it would be for these girls to decide to go for a swim while they were working and when the Roma culture takes modesty very seriously. However, the most disturbing element of this tragedy is that the beach goers continued to enjoy the sun and such beside the washed up, lifeless bodies of these children as if they were not there at all. Peter Popham of The Independent writes, "The indifference was taken as shocking proof that many Italians no longer have human feelings for the Roma, even though the communities have lived side by side for generations."

"This was the other terrible thing," says Mr Esposito, "besides the fact of the girls drowning: the normality. The way people continued to sunbathe, for three hours, just metres away from the bodies. They could have gone to a different beach. It's not possible that you can watch two young people die then carry on as if nothing happened. It showed a terrible lack of sensitivity and respect."

Popham describes the Italians' relationship with the Roma people, "Roma have been living in Italy for seven centuries and the country is home to about 150,000, who live mainly in squalid conditions in one of around 700 encampments on the outskirts of major cities such as Rome, Milan and Naples. They amount to less than 0.3 per cent of the population, one of the lowest proportions in Europe. But their poverty and resistance to integration have made them far more conspicuous than other communities. And the influx of thousands more migrants from Romania in the past year has confirmed the view of many Italians that the Gypsies and their eyesore camps are the source of all their problems. The ethnic group is often blamed for petty theft and burglaries. According to a recent newspaper survey, more than two thirds of Italians want Gypsies expelled, 'whether they hold Italian passports or not.'"

Roberto Malini writing for EveryOne concludes his article, "'The Roma people are just a scourge,' say the politicians, the authorities, the journalists. The tragedy that took place on Torregaveta beach is not worthy of shedding a tear for, not worthy of wasting a prayer on.

On the sand lie two starfish."

Check out groups like EveryOne and Roma Rights and see what you can do. There are frequently efforts to contact government officials in countries like Bulgaria, Romania, and Italy (really most countries to be perfectly frank) that have serious human rights issues concerning the Roma people who are too long mythic scapegoats and targets of violence.

Love all people.

Meow!

This is my kitten hat. I got it ages ago in Portsmouth at this great store called The Odd Showroom. I put it on and it has made me happy all day. I got some strange looks.

Fashion is Danger

I was never Fashion-Conscious. In high school I wore whatever I felt like, usually bohemian and gypsy-traditional, or just completely bizarre punky contraptions. In middle school I wore leather pants and shiny purple sneakers. I was made-fun of constantly, and usually for my off-key clothes. But I really didn't care. I still don't care, and I wear whatever I like, but suddenly I know that leather is so in this season and I'm lusting after this Top Shop dress.


Stud Leather Dress - View All - Dresses - Topshop

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But of course, this is when I can't afford to feed myself properly. So it's more like I'm a fashionista in a "oh-wow-that's-so-pretty-but-I'll-just-stick-to-darning-my-jeans-for-the-third-time-and boy-am-I-hungry" way. So I "shop" online and drool over the "click here for a larger image" images and that's how I sate my esurience. I've seen all the over the thigh boots and sheer dresses, plus Kate Moss' limited edition line at Top Shop... I've seen it all. I'm not complaining. I'm sure I'll lose interest next week anyway, and besides, I really like those jeans. Patches are still cool, right?

Neglected adventuring

This is a shot of Blackrock Castle which now houses an observatory for the astronomy students at CIT. L and I went on a walk a few days ago out here just for a change. It's been difficult to achieve a balance. We used to work compulsively but for the past year we are forcibly unemployed. We drove ourselves crazy for the first 10 months studying wildly, applying to literally hundreds of jobs, and scrambling for a new plan. I got 15 poems published, applied to the graduate programme of my dreams, and L took up piano and discovered that he is very talented. But we burned ourselves out with all our scrambling. So the last few weeks we decided to take it easy. But that made the stress even more salient. It's like we spend our time trying not to exist. We see our poverty, we feel the ache of homelessness and the discomfort of depending on others for shelter, and all the small dramas that we try to ignore become central, and we bicker. It's desperation. 40 percent of the city is unemployed. We don't have enough to sustain us and that feeling of not enough is exhausting. Aging. We wonder if we should have stayed in America, but all wondering does is remind us that there is no one to tell us what we should do now. What we can do, we realised this morning, is give ourselves some kind of plan. Balance work and play and be strict. Go on small adventures. And to remember love brought us here and love will see us through. And ask the gods to let us win the lottery today.

Bits of Vanity News Chosen at Random

Hola!

Basically, I start Italian lessons on Thursday, and I am terribly excited.

Next, I seem to have Celiac's Disease. I've gone gluten-free. I'm chatting to my Dr. in a few hours.

And, a poem of mine us appearing in The Mom Egg mid- October. Yay!

a poem I like tonight

I grabbed this poem from Ada Limon. She posts original poems in her blog which I became enamoured with shortly after her poem "Crush" appeared in the New Yorker. Enjoy!

Teamwork

The night opens cartwheel quick,
hiccups the moon into one electric
fit, and I’m so gullible that I still believe
it’s a miracle, still come surrendered
to the sky’s fantastic empty. But
let this one be yours tonight,
with the city’s audience of blurs,
an audience of applauding hours,
and I’ll take this quiet corner, like
a cat who sleeps on the furthermost
edge of the bed, with a look that says
only, I am happy to have just this.
It is enough that in this same sweet now,
you are somewhere existing.

Limbo

I have not been a faithful blogger. What is there to say? 10,000 things and more. But what do I want to say? That is much more limiting.

Other people's cats are curled on cushions or left outside. There are spiders all over the walls wherever I haunt, the one critter that used to send me screaming, but I've gotten used to them. I can even put a teacup over them now until L can usher them outside. Small feat. I don't like the way they move. They remind me of every human predator I've ever known.

Insomnia curls up beside me again. I know it happens when something stressful happens with my family back in America. Knowing that I can't sleep because of trouble doesn't help, probably because my little equation isn't always true. Much of the time I don't sleep because I remember the things that used to happen in the dark, or darkened places, and I can't convince my awareness to desist until daylight hours. As I explained to my mother-in-law earlier, "It's just something about the dark, but then, I can't sleep in the light."

I don't like to complain about the limbo state we're in... even though we're poor and scraping by in other people's homes and waiting for work, I still feel lucky. I feel like someone is taking care of us. And it's nice to be in love with nowhere to go. This total rootlessness though that I imagined I would like when I was a teenager picturing myself in Europe in my twenties is not as rich and contemplative as I had thought. Actually, I found that I love having charming, kind, ebullient, warm friends surrounding me, and I miss the wonderful friends that I left behind in various countries much more than I thought was possible. That is my only real complaint, and it is one motivated by love, so I don't scold myself.

So all night I have been reading Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth, which is a masterpiece of short fiction. Read this collection if you're into stories! It deals with immigration, loss, homeland, relationships, and travel so crisply and with such insight and succinct brilliance that I can't put it down. Wow. This woman will be remembered.

I suppose I bring this little dream to a close. So tell me, Reader, do you have a cure for insomnia? I've tried the drugs and they don't work.

Irony

Somewhat ironically, after I write a nice long post yesterday that glibly suggested suicide can be prevented with the ease of a creative mind or will, I discover that one of my sweet, artistic friends, Jan, has killed herself.

She was a wonderful, warm, and beautiful person, much loved and greatly missed. Goodbye Jan. You brightened the lives of all those who knew you. I hope you found a balm for your spirit.

Be a Vulture

I swiped this short play from Ada Limon's post on linebreak:

Owl & Deer Discuss Poetry: A Short Play

Deer: “Wouldn’t it be nice to take a break from writing.”

Owl: “No.”

Deer: “Yeah, you’re right.”

Owl: “I know that I feel my best when I’m writing. It’s like, I think I want to just give up and then suddenly I’m writing a poem and it’s like, wow, life is awesome! Poets may be the only people in the world who could save themselves by writing their own suicide note.”

Deer: “It’s true, I love the new book I’m working on. I mean, it’s completely incomprehensible and unreadable, but I love it.”

It's adorable, yes, but when the owl said, "Poets may be the only people in the world who could save themselves by writing their own suicide note." I thought YES! That kind of eternal yes that reacts to more than what was said, but beyond it to reflection, experience, and hope. I know personally that when things get bad, and whoa they have been pretty bad, I always, inevitably think: there is a poem in this.

Even if you're not a poet, you still don't need to kill yourself. What I mean is, when you are desperate and life is pulling out your fingernails, there is still a jewel there. A story, a painting, anything... whatever floats your rubber ducky. It's a driving force toward expression and change.

I was reading The Secret Language of Birds by Adele Nozedar and discovered that the word "cathartic" comes from the Latin word for "Turkey Vulture", "Cathartes Aura." This is because of the vulture's habit of eating rotting flesh, and in the days of no sanitation or plumbing, this was truly a gift. The bird was often seen as a deity in many pre-Christian cultures including the Latins, Egyptians, and Aztecs. Nozedar writes,"The birds were seen as transformers of waste and decay, rendering everything clean and wholesome again. In addition, vultures only take what they are given; they do not kill in order to eat."

Be a vulture. If there is death, decay, waste, and gore in your life, then process it into something "clean and wholesome again." We can't avoid pain, but we can use that experience to broaden our understanding and practice of love.

"By Boat" in Chantarelle's Notebook

Yes, I was so busy reading The Secret Language of Birds by Adele Nozedar that I forgot to mention that my poem, "By Boat" came out in issue number 17 of Chantarelle's Notebook, which is an excellent online literary journal.

Please check it out!

Picture Time

I wrote a children's book a few years ago and never did anything with it outside of college. Today L and I are illustrating. He's a truly talented artist, it just so happens.

Then I will begin the publishing song and dance. But I think it will be fun. It's tentatively called, Swimming with Honu. It's about a Hawaiian girl who goes on a magical, environmentally conscious adventure.

And speaking of L., it's his birthday! Happy Birthday, handsome! I wrote him a poem, and that's all he wanted. He doesn't even want to go out. But, he's the birthday chickadee, so he calls the shots. It's so funny how different we are. For my birthday in July I had a list of demands:

1. A French Martini. They only make them at Soho
2. L must draw me a picture
3. Spend all day in Cork city frolicking (closest attraction...)
4. Another drink in my favourite pub, The Corner House
5. Sunshine
6. Adoration
7. Pictures of puppies, baby ducks, and chickadees
8. More adoration

Full moon and sun

This cosmic inhalation is balanced by an exhalation. This culture values the solar energy of physical action. Work is done in the daylight hours. But without reflection and introspection, action is worth little. Times of darkness or not doing are often seen as frightening, but really the unknown is sacred. In that space we see the truth in reflection and the mystery becomes the gift of wisdom. In the dark we hold onto what we love. Give thanks at the full moon. Ask for something if you need it, and add 'and it harm none.' The darkness is divine, the moon a great goddess. Always speak with your beaming tongue.

Madonna Speaks Out For Gypsy Rights

Reason #23 why I love Madonna: Read it here. RTE reports that Madonna spoke to the crowd at one of her Bucharest concerts about her sadness about the enormous plight of the Romany-Gypsy people. Although her remark was met with boos she continued to defend her position and the fact that Gypsies deserve equal rights and freedom just like everyone else.

I must say I am extraordinarily touched. Thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my Gypsy heart. This kind of racism has been normalized and encouraged to the point that sometimes I find it is UNSAFE for me to admit that I'm partially Romany-Gypsy. And my full Gypsy brothers and sisters endure hate crimes, murder, and worse all the time, for so long. This must end. Gypsy power! Equal rights and freedom for all! An extraordinarily famous spokesperson is what we need, just as much as we need everyone to speak up in unison for love instead of hate.

Humor and Homocide?

ETA: possible trigger material, though not particularly explicit, and hopefully helpful.

In the Irish Examiner that is spread out across my in-laws' kitchen table is an article by Suzanne Harrington, "Killer Males Lack a Sense of Humour." I've had a lot of trouble finding it online, which escapes me because it's an excellent piece. I'll do some old-school summarising and quotations. Basically, she says that apparently (according to surveys?) men's greatest fear when it comes to women is that they will be laughed at, whereas women's greatest fear is that men will kill them. Who can blame us? The media is loaded with terrifying incidents for us to draw from. Harrington's problem is that the media offers validating explanations for men who murder women.

"Oh so THAT'S why he locked her in the basement and ate her-- his mummy was mean to him. It's all her fault."

She refers to the incident of a 48 year old man in Pittsburgh who opened fire on an aerobics class, killing three women and injuring nine others because he couldn't get a girlfriend. Not because he's a psycho, but because none of the girls like him any more. What? He said he was frustrated because he wanted a younger girlfriend.

"He raged in blogs that 30 million women-- his estimate of available, desirable women-- rejected him. Not personally, you understand-- he just felt rejected by womankind in general, hence the randomness of his murders. He hadn't had sex in years, or a girlfriend in decades, yet he described himself as not bad looking and not a weirdo. (Apart from the bit when he sprayed a roomful of women with bullets. That's definitely weird, as in insanely homicidally weird."

Harrington goes on to say that, in general, women don't mind if a guy is a bit ugly as long as he has a winning personality. What we really don't like are psychopaths. So what pisses both Harrington and me off is, "his justification (and its faithful reproduction in the media) about how he had so much to offer if only we ungrateful hussies had been more receptive."

What is with this justification? This man did something sick. Not being able to bag a younger woman is no excuse. I think psychology is an important part of the sciences, important in this particular sense because it examines the "motivation" (and I use that word to mean excuse) that a sociopath creates in order to rationalise an otherwise forbidden action, but by no means should it be offered as a reason all neatly wrapped with a Freudian bow by the media. These women died for NO reason. Their deaths defy reason.

It's the same nonsense we hear about all kinds of violence. I was sexually abused repeatedly and consistently for 11 years since the age of 5. My parents and extended family did nothing about it, even though they knew what was happening and I begged them to help me, even though I was molested by my two cousins, Andrew and Amelia Feigenbaum, just feet away from my father, and he did nothing to stop it. Even though it got so bad that the state of NH intervened (incompetently, I might add). When I asked my mother why she let that (and so many other gruesome things that I'll save for the memoir) happen to me, something that nearly ended my life, she said, "I guess it was because I was abused." My father still hasn't given me a real explanation. It took me a long time to admit how bad my family was to me because I was brainwashed into thinking I had no human rights. And I'm not the only one who has been brainwashed. As long as the media is offering up these psychopathic "reasons" as if they are anything more than the ichor leaking from a cruel brain, there is a serious problem.

Human rights come first. There are NO reasons for violence. Having been abused by both men and woman, and knowing that people, are well, people and not particularly different on the basis of gender alone, I would not say that women are not violent. That is simply untrue. But these shooting outbursts are, so far, a male phenomena. Harrington suggests it has to do with the way that women deal with things and men let things stagnate and fester. Festering is ok (not ideal), unless, as Harrington points out, it's a murderous nutjob who is festering. I spoke with a licensed social worker who I greatly respect about the subject of gender and depression, and she told me that women tend to express depression as sadness, whereas men express it through anger. Anger is ok. It's killing that's not ok. I've been angry before and I've never killed anyone, never even considered it. Hell, I was abused and I still haven't killed anyone, and according to some journalists, that gives me plenty of "reasons." And guess what, I never will! Stubbing your toe is not a reason for punching your partner in the face, just like not having a date in 10 years is no reason for opening fire on a class of innocent women.

There is a difference between the subtle workings of the mind and all its seemingly relevant detritus and actual reasons. I'm hungry and I need to eat to nurture my body, so I am going to eat a banana because it will satisfy my hunger, it is a food source, and it has essential vitamins that my body needs in order to thrive. That's a reason for action.

Harrington ends her article with this, "...have you ever heard of a woman murdering random men because she couldn't get a date? No? It's because we don't. We have a laugh about it instead."

Most Powerful Women

This afternoon I read an article on the 100 Most Powerful Women in the world. Although many of them are big business tycoons I was happy to see activists on there as well. Here's the article. Reading it really buoyed my spirits. I guess after having so many things go "wrong" this year I started to lose hope. But, after reading this article I remembered that all these women started somewhere, and not all of them had a head start.

Some people have said to me recently that most importantly, I have love. That's true. I forgot how really powerful that is. I have love in my marriage, of course, and that is precious. I also have love for myself. With that love, I can do what's best for me, my partner, and then my world. I am applying to graduate school and trusting that the money will be there. I will try to get scholarships, and if that fails, I will do something else. I'm writing a memoir, a novel, and I'm starting my 2nd poetry manuscript. It's what makes me happy, and, pardon me for getting a bit Pagan-religious in this post, but "All acts of love and beauty are in Her name." Maybe the reason why I can't find work at all is because I need to work on these things. Maybe I need to be in Ireland right now. And, I get to spend more time with L than ever, and that is a blessing too. And out of love comes everything worth having.

Also, I have a lot of great ideas for what to do with my money when I have it. I can't say enough about The Rainforest Site. The clicks are great because it's a way to donate money when you're broke, but everything that is sold on that site goes to charity, there are loads of petitions for good causes waiting to be signed, and there are a lot of charities that you can donate to directly, like the Nepalese Youth Opportunity Foundation. It's amazing how $350 can liberate a little girl from a life of indentured servitude and give her an education with school supplies and enough money to support her family. I don't have it now, but when I do, I know where I'm sending it. And I was thinking that even though I don't have anything at the moment, I could probably think of some ways to raise it so I could give it sooner. I should contact the NYOF though so people believe me. It's important to do these things correctly.

All in all, a very thought-provoking afternoon.

Change of Plans

We planned to move to Scotland because we were so sure that L was going to get this job in Aberdeen-- the company was saying it was a sure thing. And after loads of borrowed money was spent to get him there, he didn't get it after all. And our welfare runs out in a few weeks. And we're in tremendous debt. And this move/job was our cynosure. So now we're stuck in this capsized country wondering what to do next. Any ideas?

Painting

I saw this in Breaking Grounds in Portsmouth, NH. It reminds me of when I was a child and I would sneak out into the forest at night. Human sounds melted away and only the nocturnal happenings of animals roared through me. The birches looked stark against the other trees and I felt as though at night they were less guarded, less discreet.

Lazy

Yes, I've been terribly lazy. I prefer to be disciplined but I took a little break. L is away again at the final interview and we will know in a few days what on earth we are doing with our lives.

Small disasters. R and I are coaxing the fridge into working because we can't afford to fix it. Amazing the things you find stuck in refrigerators. Hopefully removing the tea light from the drain pipe did the trick. We watched The Jungle Book because lately we're fond of checking up on our childhoods through Disney movies. I forgot how Mogli was tempted into domesticity at the end by a pretty Indian girl from the village.

I can't help but find the Dolmio commercials incredibly racist... those puppets are bizarre, the accents are atrocious, and the stereotypes are abound. I'm 1/4 Italian too, and I can tell you that no real Italian cooks are cracking open bottles of Dolmio.

There is a musician from Macroom, in Co Cork named Ger Wolfe. Check him out. His music is sweet and he sings with an Irish accent.

This post is the detritus of the past few weeks. All the really important stuff is too top secret to write about. How frustrating.

Annoyed

Ireland had a wolf-whistling contest. Read here. As someone who has degrading things yelled out the window at her practically every day, I'm disgusted. Wolf-whistling is a symptom of a larger problem of disrespecting and devaluing women. I first learned about this on www.feministing.com. I am so sick of this bullshit. Yes, it's politically incorrect. Pointing that out doesn't make it ok to keep practicing it, or to make a competition out of it. We should be discouraging this ape-like behavior. Not rewarding it.

Village Adventure

I went to Ballincollig Castle today! B and I trundled across the fields, were chased by really cute puppies, waded through a bog, and stepped over a large dirt pit that felt like walking on chocolate cake. The castle is mostly taken by nature, beer cans, and graffiti, but it's clear it was a rather large castle with great towers and maybe a moat. The cross section of a spiral staircase flashed across the expanse of grass where floors once were laid. Wonderful.

The sidewalks in town were odd today. Gasoline spattered the streets like molten silver. A bird was flattened on the sidewalk, its eyes eaten by ants, the skull crushed and cracked, and the brain bulged out of the open head like an opal glowing strangely in pale sunlight. Two men in a car laughed at a tractor crawling toward them. I brought glass to the recycling plant: my bag ripped open and a bottle shattered on the street. I worried about kids feet. Cleaned up best I could.

Waiting for L to come home to me. England is far away.

Cork has a faux Banksy

I can't help but capture street art.

Outside

I haven't written in a few days. That's because I've been trapped in an oneiric smoke for the past week or so. I have been outside in the sun, examining white lilies, hot pink and purple grape hydrangea, myriad roses, straight laced lavender, holly trumpeting with sticky red and yellow flowers, endless plants... and then feeling sunlight reach right into my guts and massage any agony out. Yes, it has been that strange. I know I've eaten, but I don't remember. I know I've slept, but dreams and waking are the same tenor. And I miss it. The blissful fog lifted this morning and I woke up startled to remember that I have things to do, people to write to, arrangements to make, even important forms to submit: it all seemed ridiculous to imagine that there is more to life than being in nature and being happy.

Outside is such an odd idea. I think nature is inside, and the removal from it through homes, schools, and buildings is outside. How could someone be genuine in a classroom or on the sofa? You go in nature to remember that you're an animal, then you feel human, and then you know yourself. It only makes sense.

Sunlight

Lisp Kiss

Butterfly face

ETA: excuse the vanity-- I'm just learning how to use the fancy-phone I got for xmas from my in-laws. Ooooh.

My first international reading!

Yaay! I'm doing a poetry reading at SoundEye, the Cork Poetry Festival, on July 10th at 9 PM during the not-so-open-mic. If you're in Cork check it out.

I just realized that I do that really annoying thing where I learn certain phrases in French, Italian, Spanish, German, even Balinese and Hawaiian and use them constantly to the point where I sound like some Hamlet-educated polyglot. But in reality I just have a few tricks and a perhaps unconscious need to sound Euro-chic. Cest la vie. I love words.

Ciao

People are Strange When You're a Stranger

It's true though-- that doesn't mean you don't see the weirdos in your hometown, but when you are somewhere new, life's odd people seems that much more mystical. Like in Ballincollig.

First there is The Rain Woman. She is a tiny, ancient woman who changes her behavior based on the weather. On perfectly dry and sunny days, she waits in alleys for passerby. When the unsuspecting pedestrian approaches her nook she leaps out and shouts, "WAS THAT A DROP OF RAIN JUST THERE!?" When the startled pedestrian says, "No," she then latches on to his or her arm and begins chatting non-stop. "Well I very much hope it won't be an ol' drop o' rain there, tis wet enough already-- I was just telling me brother Jimmy, do you know Jimmy? He's a good lad. Went to the doctor for his liver an' the quack nearly killed him! You don't go to Dr. McGrath now do ye? I certainly hope not! I could take him to court, I should, I know, he gave Jimmy cat vitamins and cheese instead of a blood transfusion. Poor Jimmy with those cat vitamins for days. His eyes turned green! And it's gotten bad since the foreigners came and the priests should really be allowed to marry...." And so on, and so on. The pedestrian is absolutely forced to shake her off by mumbling an apology and ducking into a store lest the madness continue indefinitely. When it *is* raining she ties a cloth shopping bag over her head and waits in the bus stop shelters moaning, "Oh damn this rain!"

Next is The Existential Crisis Minstrel: he is a big, strong looking fellow in his late thirties, often dressed in a red Cork jersey. He is wont to run down the street singing, "We are nothing, We are nothing," with a deep lively voice and a surprisingly chipper tune, grinning away.

Then there is The Outside At All Hours Man: he is a much older man in a long, dirty grey-beige overcoat who wears a little green hat through all seasons and stands on the side of his house practically all day, sometimes smoking but usually staring off into space, never speaking and only going inside to eat, sleep, and use the toilet. L said he saw him cutting the hedge once, but I don't know if that's true. I've never seen him do anything but stand outside, no matter what time we walk past.

I'll add more as I see them. I think three is a good enough introduction to the social scene of this dingy dark hole. There is a problem with the sewers in town so it always smells like 12th century London. That is, it smells like human waste and misery. People never clean up after their puppies either, so not only does it smell like waste, but there is the very real presence of feces strewn all over the streets. Classy. There aren't many police here (I don't think there is a police station... maybe I'm wrong though) and scumbags are forever doing silly things like stabbing each other to death in housing complexes. And then there are the perverts who shout degrading things out the window at me (and probably every other woman). It's amazing.

There are some wonderful people too though. The Italian couple that runs Vino & Panne are so overwhelmingly sweet. They love to make recommendations and get really excited when you enjoy their food or buy the wine that they told you would go well with cheese. They call L and I caro . And then there is the French cheese monger who lets us try all sorts of cheeses and tells us about where they come from and how they're made, and all her dairy adventures in France. She's adorable and kind. And then the people who run Quay Co-op are happy and cheery too, and once gave us free Polski Chleb that fed us for a whole week. So, yes, I complain, but there are spots of magic practically everywhere I've been.

P.S. I'll start adding pictures soon.

Break

I finally took a break from stressing out about the world of grave events (sometimes reading the newspaper has adverse effects on me!) in the open-sewer of this rough and rotten town Ballincollig and I went to Cork yesterday with L and met up with some truly wonderful friends. We drank leisurely shandies in the unusual warmth and sunlight with Irish people, a Canadian, and even a fellow American from LA in for a visit! They fed us, liquored us up, and gave us some desperately needed craic (craic= Irish for good times, not drugs). Due to being wicked poor, we haven't been out in ages. It was so nice to have a break.

It's a strange feeling, living in someone else's house while they aren't there. It's been so long since L and I have had our own place I forgot what it was like to own one's own spoons and chairs. We've been living out of a suitcase for well over a year. In some ways I think it's good though-- we've discovered how much people care about us because of their amazing generosity by letting us stay in their home and slipping us some $ and food every now and then, and we've also come to really appreciate what it means to have work, a solid income, duvet covers, etc., so when we have those things I think it will feel beautiful. I already feel good without them. When I'm not looking for work or writing, I spend a lot of time outside just looking at the house-owners' garden. A flying ant leaving a chemical trail toward breadcrumbs for its fellows, a rose that burnishes a vibrant carmine that I've only seen in the jungle along the Napali Coast, a bird cracks a snail shell open on a rock wall and feasts. There is overwhelming life in Ireland-- nature here is far gentler than anywhere else I've ever been.

Dreams of the Middle East

I couldn't sleep last night because I stayed up late watching Al Jazeera to find out more about Iran. It's really terrifying... protesters are being beaten in the streets by police men, people are being arrested just for appearing in videos taken of peaceful rallies, and a woman, Neda Agha Soltan, was shot dead by Basij militia when she stepped out of her car during traffic caused by a protest to get a breath of fresh air. Check out the video here. People have appropriated the 27 year old's beautiful visage as the symbol for the horror inflicted upon innocent civilians.


People in Iran suddenly have no internet access, and police are breaking up groups of people in the street larger than two. All night I tossed and turned, dreaming of the desert and people screaming. I just can't stop thinking about it. I was so distracted that I fell down a whole flight of stairs when I finally gave up the struggle and got up. There are a few things we can do-- write to the Iranian government and tell them they can't get away with this, that other countries are watching them. Write to or go to the Iranian embassies near you and ask why this is happening.

The Culture Excuse

Perhaps this is a touchy subject but it's something that I feel strongly about: human rights v.s. culture. This has been on my mind particularly against the backdrop of the recent election in Tehran. Iran's new leader Mahmoud Ahmadinejad seems to have been erroneously elected, erroneously in the sense that most of the population appears to have voted for Mir Hussein Moussavi, the candidate with kinder policies with respect to women's equality, peace, and freedom. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad on the other hand is a nuclear weapon toting religious extremist and whackjob extraordinaire. No women's rights under his regime.

Women's rights in the Middle East and Africa are notoriously abominable. But, the excuse for inaction is always, "that's just their culture." Well excuse me, but fuck culture. Women stormed the streets of Tehran after their votes were apparently tossed out, streets that they are not allowed in by law, to protest the loss of their most liberal candidate, the candidate that may have allowed them to be in the company of men they are not related to, to uncover their heads if they wished, and to lead normal lives. That is not culture-- if it were culture they would not be rioting against it. That's oppression. Just like female-genital-mutilation is torture, and stoning a 13 year old girl to death in Africa for "the crime" of being gang-raped is nothing less than barbarism.

Call me ignorant or culturally insensitive, but I'd rather be labeled that way than have no moral center. Wake up, this is not culture. It's abuse.

Something's Rotten in Belfast

And it appears to be both youthful and old. Lately I've been hearing of so much trouble in the North, just as things seemed to be quieting down. First, those British soldiers were murdered a few months ago, and between then and now reports of attacks and religion-based murders were spattering the pages. This past week, 20 Romanians including a 5 day old baby girl were forced to seek refuge in a church because of racist threats and attacks on their home. So many frightened people were already hiding in safe houses that these people were left with pews and a floor for sanctuary. It turned out to be a group of teenagers harassing them! They were so traumatized that they want to return to their less-prosperous lives in Romania, despite the neighborhood's efforts to convince them to stay. And today an open-top tourist bus was stoned by a group of violent youngsters! Luckily no one was hurt as the bus wound its way past the famous Republican and Loyalist murals.

I'm afraid that the recession and general tension in the Republic of Ireland is also inciting some violence and racism-- "foreigners" are blamed for much of it, which, let me tell you is an uncomfortable thing when you're an expat.

Northern Ireland, though always more dangerous, seems especially active now. While Protestant/Catholic and Loyalist/Republican relations in the North are a notoriously old and violent issue, these other attacks are relatively new. I wonder if the strain of the economy is doing the same in the North? Or is it something much darker? Either way, it's sad to see an area that has already so much pain and blood in its soil experience even more.