THE HATE

It’s the hate that I find so staggering,
The deep, blind, and passionate, gripping hate.
How does a person get to that dark place?
Driven to slaughter members of their race.
Yes, their race. For truth is there’s only one.
Not political correctness, but fact.
Not wishful thinking, but plain simple truth.
What mind-numbing fear stops that getting through?
We fight for freedom of speech, at what cost?
Is there something we’re missing? Something lost?
There are few freedoms that are inherent,
Perhaps that’s the thing that we’ve come to see,
They are all linked to responsibility,
That much becomes more and more apparent.
Believe many things, I’ll go along, but,
I’ll not grant the right for you to be wrong,
About this, this irrefutable fact,
We are one, one human tribe, one pact,
Divided by nation and circumstance,
Colour and race thrust upon us by chance,
That truth must bind, ironclad, forged in fire,
Extinguish the hate and raise ourselves higher,
All social tools choose a line to draw,
All institutions and forces of law,
Take persons and groups who just want to hate,
Bring them into the light and educate,
Walk the walk, talk the talk of inclusion,
No tolerance for any exclusion,
No exceptions for religion or faith,
The prime belief is we’re one human race,
Our peace and prosperity both depend,
On learning that we were made to transcend.

To: Anders Behring Breivik

Why, Mr. Breivik,
Why, oh, why,
Why did all of those,
Children have to die?

I know that you hate us,
Us immigrant scum.
Despise and berate us,
Since we continue to try,
To threaten your culture,
And your way of life.
We’re vultures and also,
Blood-sucking parasites.

I’m not Norwegian,
So therefore I’m scum,
Who must live in a filthy
Disgusting old slum.
I get it. It’s cool.
Go right on believing,
We’re sucking you dry,
If it makes you feel good,

And your hate justified.
It’s okay to hate us.
Not against any rules,
But, why, Mr. Breivik,
Why so needlessly cruel?
They were children,
Who only just,
Started high school.

So, why, Mr. Breivik,
Why, oh, why?
Why did all of those,
Children have to die?

CUBAN MISSIVES

In many ways it was the perfect place to walk right up to the edge, and not a bad place to fall right over the edge either if push came to shove.
Trapped on a heat crazed Cuban island for a week, fueled by a constant round the clock supply of free 7 year old Havana Club and cerveza. When the stifling heat combines with the dark rum it can seriously begin to mess with the senses. It¨s unnerving as hell to have Cuban gardeners jumping out at you from behind trees and bushes trying to pawn off all manner of palm leaf and coconut creations. Then, already off kilter, the array of familiar faces that keep popping up over and over cause minor moments of paranoia, before I manage to remind myself that they are in fact fellow travellers on this twisted journey and most of them just as rum addled as I am, plus hopped up on dangerous combinations of insecticide and sinus medication. The insecticide is still required, despite the massive fuming efforts and early morning low flying crop dusters.
When I first saw clouds of white smoke wafting past my balcony window I thought perhaps the whole damned island was on fire. I would have responded in kind as well and jumped out of bed in alarm, were it not for the afore-mentioned level of rum in my blood, which I knew made it advisable to stay away from open flame. Besides that I was wearing my trusty tempur sleeping mask, which has helped me ignore heinous realities on many occasions and did not fail me again this time.
Of course the cloud of smoke could just as well have been the result of the massive amount of cigar smoking that takes place. Every Tom, Dick and Hermes seems to suddenly become obsessed with cigars, whether or not they have ever touched one in their lives before, creating constant walls of tobacco everywhere on a pretty much permanent basis. Cubans are either far behind or way ahead of the rest of us with their smoking laws, depending on how you look at it, but either way the act of smoking is pretty much celebrated and encouraged and occurs virtually everywhere unchecked. I was tempted to partake myself, virgin cigar afficianado that I am, but I didn’t dare risk affecting the taste of the rum. A matter of respect of craftsmanship really. I did however wonder why I never saw any of the nubile young women that were prancing around the island with a large stogie in their mouths. But then again, that’s the sort of random pondering I’m prone to with or without the demon rum. I did manage to bring back a select number of Romeo & Julietas though, and I am not yet sure of their destiny.

The Land Of Stuff

I’ve landed in The Land of Stuff,
Where no one feels they have enough,
Where every message from every store,
Consists of more and more and more,
Now “Jumbo” and “Mega” just convey,
The normal size of every day,
“Bigger” and “Better” both implored,
To keep the economy moving forward,
Disturbing, cuz sure as the world is round,
What goes up,
Must one day come down.

Don’t Box Me In! (Walt Whitman says)

I like things,
But I don’t collect them,
Drawn to people,
But I don’t select them,
Don’t have a kind, a style, a type,
Can’t describe me with a magnet swipe,
I’m curious, a blesséd curse,
Love to explore the broad diverse,
(As a side note: I am slightly awed,
When I meet a diverse broad)
But seriously,
Don’t try to peg me,
I beseech, cajole, I even beg thee,
With a world that’s daily more complex,
We insist on labelling with an “X”,
“X” marks the spot – so we can see,
The consumer type you seem to be,
Answer these questions, check these boxes,
So we know what your preferred stock is,
Well I reject that!
No, no, no!
Walt Whitman said it long ago,
Am I filled with contradiction?
Of course!
That’s what makes truth stranger than fiction,
Not narrow-minded, all that that exudes,
I am large, I contain multitudes!

WOTD: hoarding

Well, that’s it. Another year over and done with. I mean another school year, natch. Today was my last day at work before summer vacation. Yippee! Now I have four days to prepare mentally and, indeed, environmentally for the arrival of my mother, grandmother and cousin. They’ll be arriving on the 6th next week and will say in Gothenburg until the 11th, when we’ll all journey to Stockholm. I’ll celebrate my 36th birthday in style in Sweden’s beautiful capital city.

But I digress from today’s very serious topic: hoarding. Actually, I’ve never personally known a hoarder. Until now I think. There are several types of hoarding, one of which is the result of hardship. For example, many Japanese have begun hoarding rice and other foodstuffs because of the disasters that occurred earlier this year. Animals hoard food for the winter. Then there is the type of compulsive hoarding with which this post is concerned. Wikipedia defines it as, “the excessive acquisition of possessions (and failure to use or discard them), even if the items are worthless, hazardous, or unsanitary. Compulsive hoarding impairs mobility and interferes with basic activities, including cooking, cleaning, hygiene, sanitation, and sleeping.”

There was a lot that needed to be done at work today to finish up the year. I did some administrative work, scrubbed the kitchen area, and threw away piles of old uneaten food from the fridge. Yeah, it was pretty gross but not nearly as disgusting as having to gather up the suspected hoarder’s multiple piles of accumulated stuff and moving them into her office. I don’t know if this person is at the compulsive stage yet, but could very well be on the way there.

Normally I wouldn’t have bothered, but we have cleaners coming next week who will mop and wax the floors and who had requested that all personal belongings be picked up off the floor. So, since my pack rat colleague is already on vacation, the task fell to me to remove her stuff from the faculty computer room. This room is supposed to be at the disposal of all members of the faculty. However, it had gotten to the point where every surface: every desk, table, shelf, and window sill was stacked with her papers and belongings. I found lists of contact information for students who graduated years ago, and boxes full of old homework assignments, which for some strange reason she insists on keeping. I doubt if she even remembers she has this stuff.

She’s done the same thing in the exam marking room, and don’t even get me started on her office. Yeah, she has an office, but she never uses it. Actually she has part of a shared office that also happens to be my office. She has two desks, a couple of book trolleys, at least four of the large IKEA Billy bookshelves, and several paper shopping bags on the floor, all stacked and stuffed and crammed with books and papers. It’s even worse now because I just brought everything she’d spread out in the computer room and shoved as much as I could on her bookshelves and dumped the rest of it on her desk.

Man, she’s going to be pissed off when she sees that. Still, that’s her problem. This is certainly not the first time her stuff has been gathered up and removed. One of the assistant principals did it last year and told her that she must work at her desk and cannot take over various communal faculty rooms at the school. Well, it took about a year for the boxes and piles to build up again.

Anyway, here’s a couple of pictures. You be the judge:

Miss Kitten's desk with colleague Pink Lady's desk on the left. See the origami garden on the window sill?

I should point out that our desks don’t normally look this clean and neat. We spent several hours organising and discarding last year’s papers. I’m very pleased with the results. Our desks can get pretty messy when we get busy and don’t have the time to tidy up. However…

Here is Pack Rat's corner of the office. This is only one part of it. It wraps around to the right.

No wonder she doesn’t like to work at her desk. I mean, look at it? Who would? Most of the stuff shown in the picture was there before I moved more stuff from the faculty computer room.

It is not my intention to come off sounding like a holier-than-thou bitch. I can certainly be messy at times and I don’t mind messes. Most of them, anyway. Life is often messy and I enjoy cleaning it up. No really, I do enjoy cleaning. What I can’t stand is clutter. Particularly, pointless clutter on this scale. I’m concerned for my colleague’s mental health. She’s making working conditions for herself and colleagues unpleasant.

I can only imagine what her house must look like.

Blondinbella

I’m jealous of Blondinbella.  She’s so pretty, smart, and successful.  She has her own business, book, magazine, and boyfriend.  Her blog is one of Sweden’s most popular websites.  Somehow, despite all this success, she appears to have it all together and dress fabulous.  I think she is probably a genuinely nice young woman, and a positive one at that.  Not like that Kissies chick who is about as self-absorbed and narcissistic as a Jay Gatsby .

I sometimes wonder how I would have turned out had my parents not packed us up and moved to America.  What would have happened had I stayed in Sweden?  Would I have become a liberal, progressive, bon vivant Swede, or a down-to-earth Nils Holgersson?  One thing is for certain, I would not have been the male equivalent of Blondinbella because I was too late for the social media revolution.

Anyhow, reading Blondinbella’s blog is my delicious vice.  Whenever I’m feeling down I read about her fantastic life and I feel much better about myself and life in general.  It also helps keep my Swedish current.  Until next time…

The stupid. It hurts.

Ah, Facebook. As much as I enjoy using it there are definitely times when it’s more trouble than it’s worth. ‘Tis the season, it would seem, for passive-aggressive “post this as your status” updates. A case in point:

PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA AND TO THE REPUBLIC FOR WHICH IT STANDS, ONE NATION UNDER GOD, INDIVISIBLE, WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL!

MY GENERATION GREW UP RECITING THIS EVERY MORNING IN SCHOOL WITH MY HAND ON MY HEART. THEY NO LONGER DO THAT FOR FEAR OF OFFENDING SOMEONE!

LET’S SEE HOW MANY AMERICANS WILL RE-POST THIS AND NOT CARE ABOUT OFFENDING SOMEONE!…

Note that it’s not grammatically correct, and it’s written in all caps, for FUCK SAKE. This was posted by one of my more embarrassing red-neck American relatives, and true to form, it sparked off a comment war. I know I should have just left it alone but I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut when someone posted, ” If people don’t like it ,they should move to a different country!!”

*sigh* How boringly predictable.

My step-father, who happens to be the older brother of the person who posted the astonishingly ignorant update, posted the following:

That is a big problem with many here in the US, people forget that we have the right not to conform, to choose, now some people think that if u don’t like something you should leave! Sounds like someone doesn’t understand the Constitution Or the bill of rights. As for the one nation under god, that was added in the 50,s during the McCarthy era, a terrible time for the country. The country was founded on freedom of religion which means also freedom from religion. So of you need to lighten up & learn the law & be a bit more accepting.

Hear hear. I added the following two cents:

Personally, I don’t think it’s right to insist that children recite a symbolic oath of allegiance every single day. Just about everyone I’ve told about this over here has been absolutely horrified. They thought the United States was supposed to be beacon of freedom, and yet its children are made to recite these words over and over like little automatons without understanding what they are saying.

It smells very strongly of totalitarianism. So does insisting that anyone who disagrees with you should leave the country. In the United States we don’t oppress or deport people who don’t share our personal beliefs. Maybe in other countries they do that but America and Americans are better than that, right?

Of course I realise that my eloquently-worded comment will fall on deaf ears, but I meant every word of it. This got me thinking about the Pledge of Allegiance in general and I did a little bit of research. My step-dad is correct in that the “under God” part was added in 1950s as part of Joe McCarthy’s anti-Communist campaign. He wanted to make sure that those godless dirty red scum understood that We the People are God-Fearing Americans.

Anyway, it turns out that the original pledge was written in 1892 by Francis Bellamy, a Baptist minister and Christian Socialist. That’s right. The Pledge of Allegiance, recited millions of times by millions of American school children was written by a Socialist. Oh bless.

I wonder what those jingoistically patriotic if-you’re-not-with-us-your-against-us Americans would have to say about that…

…the more radical the bumpersticker

…the bigger the hoopty.

I am not sure if this is a regional phenomenon or if it’s a widespread epidemic.  There seems to be a distinct relationship between bumperstickers and cars.  Primarily the bumperstickers screaming a pro-life agenda or screaming about how science is evil.   On my way to the pharmacy for a refill, I had the esteemed privilege of following a raging pro-lifer who also wants to end fetal testing.  Of course, it was on a piece of shit, Sanford and Son mobile that was held together by duct tape and driven by a knuckle-dragging, frizzy haired inbred with a tremendous underbite.

Yes.  This is exactly the type of person who deserves a say on all things scientific, amirite?

What kind of Good Christian would wish a debilitating disease like Tay-Sachs on anyone (parent or child)?  Are these people so fucking clueless that science is now, officially, the root of all evil and that humans should needlessly suffer because some mystical book says so?

Now, I realize that I’m a Mid-Atlantic, Liberal Elitest who grew up on the periphery of a big, big city among those who can fucking read and marry someone with a different surname, but surely geography isn’t the driving factor in one’s intelligence.  Or is it?

To those who eschew science in the name of the LAWD, here’s a bit of advice:  don’t want the tests?  Don’t have them.  Carry on and pray for our condemned, technology embracing souls.  Don’t foist your bullshit, neaderthalic beliefs on those of us who do.

And…for fuck’s sake…buy a goddamned car that is road worthy.  Not only are your beliefs scary but so is sharing the road with you.