Friday, February 29, 2008

Ils sont fous ces Anglais

Ex-homme d'affaires britannique

via La Presse (http://tinyurl.com/2mff6b)
Agence France-Presse
Londres

Un Britannique qui avait pris à pied et sans argent le chemin de l'Inde fin janvier a rebroussé chemin moins d'un mois après son départ alors qu'il se trouvait à Calais, faute d'arriver à communiquer avec la population locale.

Mark Boyle, un ancien homme d'affaires âgé de 28 ans, était parti le 30 janvier --date du 60e anniversaire de l'assassinat de Gandhi-- de Bristol (ouest de l'Angleterre) où il réside pour se rendre à Porbandar, lieu de naissance du Mahatma situé sur la côte ouest de l'Inde.

Il avait prévu d'effectuer ce trajet de 14 500 km à pied et sans utiliser d'argent, comptant sur la générosité des habitants pour obtenir le gîte et le couvert. Deux amis l'accompagnaient dans ce projet.

Mais leur chemin s'est arrêté à Calais, ville française située à environ 32 kilomètres des côtes anglaises de l'autre côté de la Manche.

«Non seulement personne... ne parlait (notre) langue, mais en plus ils nous considéraient comme une bande de routards pique-assiettes, ce qui est complètement à l'opposé de l'objectif de ce pèlerinage», a expliqué sur son blog Mark Boyle, originaire de Donegal en Irlande, qui se fait appeler Saoirse, signifiant «liberté» en gaélique.

"J'ai décidé de rentrer et de poursuivre mon pèlerinage dans ma propre communauté dans une certaine mesure. (...) C'est comme un rêve qui s'est achevé", a relevé M. Boyle qui a dû débourser de l'argent pour payer sa traversée en bateau.

Dawn Tovar, coordinatrice du projet, a expliqué à l'AFP qu'il n'avait pas abandonné son voyage en Inde, mais qu'il l'avait simplement repoussé: "Il va parcourir le Royaume-Uni, apprendre le français et repartir vers Porbandar", a-t-elle dit.


«Non seulement personne... ne parlait (notre) langue, mais en plus ils nous considéraient comme une bande de routards pique-assiettes, ce qui est complètement à l'opposé de l'objectif de ce pèlerinage».

Je suis choquée - choquée, vous dis-je! - de voir tous ces gens égoïstes, qui après tout n'ont d'autres choses à faire que d'aller travailler pour nourrir leur famille, refuser d'accueillir gratuitement sous leur toît et à leur table une bande de jeunes hommes valides et en bonne santé qui vont tranquillement faire le tour du monde aux frais de la princesse et à leur retour gagner gloire et fortune avec des contrats de livres et de films. Choquée!!!! Quand je pense au sacrifice de ces jeunes héros qui vont prendre la peine d'apprendre le français, en plus de leur anglais maternel, pour pouvoir communiquer avec les populations de tous ces pays qu'ils vont traverser et qui parlent tous anglais ou français, oeuf corse, .... j'ai honte de n'avoir pas pensé moi-même à un tel racket. Sans doute parce que je ne suis pas un ex-homme d'affaires.


J'ai mis en titre: Ils sont fous ces Anglais, parce qu'est une citation d'Astérix, mais j'étais bien près d'utiliser un autre adjectif.... Heureusement, la culture l'a emporté!



Thursday, February 28, 2008

Tiercé Nina Simone Trifecta


Nina Simone @ The Bitter End Cafe (1968)

A long time ago, a friend asked me who I would like to be, if I could live that person's life. I said: Nina Simone! The friend was horrified: "You want to have her sad, bitter life?" "No, but if that's the price to pay for that voice, then yes!"


Nina Simone's First TV Appearance



My favorite song: My Baby Just Cares For Me - Nina Simone's emotional performance at the legendary Ronnie Scott's in London on November 17, 1985.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

I Can Still Kick Ass!!!!

17

I am Old Woman! Hear Me Roar!!!! R-R-R-O-O-A-A-R!! [Coughing Fit till I piss my pants!]

Vacuuming Your Dog

Borrowed from Cynical-C Blog: http://www.cynical-c.com/



My dog hates/fears the vacuum cleaner, so that's why I don't vacuum often. It's not because I'm a slob, no.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

The new Batman Trailer



I guess everyone will want to see this because it's Heath Ledger's last film.

Here's a montage of his pictures in the film:

Friday, February 22, 2008

Friday Videos



President Bush dances in Liberia. Who do you think taught him to dance like this?


Alone again naturally


I'm down with a nasty cold. It started with Asparagus, went to B-Boy and now me; I'm closing the loop. Normally I'm quite resistant to such contamination, because I have the habit of constantly washing my hands, but I guess that I'm too tired now from my mother's move to a new nursing home.


Last night visit update:
  • I called the phone company to have them transfer her phone line from the old place to the new one. The transfer won't be complete until today, the 22nd. When I visited her last night, she complained that the line doesn't work, and when I reminded her that it won't work until the 22nd, she said: That's not true, I asked the nurse why my telephone doesn't work and she said: it's your daughter's fault!


  • She did the clock watching routine again. As soon as I arrived, she would look at the clock every five minutes. I tried to point it out to her: "I know you're watching the clock because you're afraid that I would leave at a certain hour, and it would make you suffer, but why don't you enjoy my company now and only suffer when I do leave? Because right now, you're suffering twice, once while I'm here with you, then again when I leave." She nodded but continued glancing at the clock.


  • When I told her that I would leave at 6:30, she got upset. "Why can't you stay longer?" "I'm exhausted, Mom, I've been up since 6:30 in the morning, I've put in a full day work, I came here straight from work, I'm sick and when I get home, I'm gonna have to put in another workshift. Last night, I left at 7:30 and when I got home, I litterally crawled in bed." She doesn't care. "Look at me, I'm with these old people all day, I'm so depressed!""I know, but it was the same thing at the old place." "No, the old place was better!". "It's the same thing. At the old place, you stayed in your room all day and only came out for the meals. You didn't participate in any of the activities. So why don't you do here what you did at the old place?" "Why did you have to move me here? Why don't you care about my happiness?" "Mom, you're not a child and you're not handicapped. Go out and make new friends, then you'll be less lonely. I cannot be responsible for your happiness, I have my own life, I have my children. I'm 61 years old, Mom, I'm supposed to be enjoying my old age and I'm working two shifts. And now you want me to take care of your happiness? Why don't you do something about it, instead of waiting for other people to do things for you?" She doesn't care. She doesn't want to explore the new place, she doesn't want to explore her own room to know where her things are, she doesn't want to talk to people in the other rooms and rebuffs their advances. All she does all day is wait for me. And when I arrive, she pounces on me. She's like a leaden cape on my shoulders, I am her sole source of emotional sustenance and she won't let me go. The unspoken irony is that when I was young, I was never close to her. I was her least loved child, because I'm a girl and she preferred my brothers.

  • Old age is not supposed to be such an ordeal, is it?


Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Je suis ma fille

Van Gogh - La Femme d'Arles


Ma mère habite dans une résidence pour personnes âgées, depuis 4 ans environ. Avec l'âge, elle s'affaiblit de jour en jour, physiquement et mentalement. Il y a à peu près un an, la travailleuse sociale qui s'occupait de ma mère avait recommandé de l'inscrire sur la liste d'attente de l'Institut universitaire de gériatrie, parce qu'elle aura bientôt besoin de soins plus attentifs et peut-être même de surveillance constante si son Alzheimer s'aggravait. L'Institut, en plus des fonctions d'enseignement, de recherche et de traitement dans le domaine de la gériatrie, gère également une maison de retraite où les personnes âgées reçoivent des soins complets fournis par une équipe médicale multidisciplinaire sur les lieux [http://www.iugm.qc.ca/].
Consultée sur la question, ma mère avait accepté avec enthousiasme, parce qu'elle était inquiète de ses chutes fréquentes et de l'état de confusion dans lequel elle était souvent placée par ses oublis, ses hallucinations, son incapacité de raisonner,etc.

Il y a trois semaines, la travailleuse sociale m'appelle pour m'apprendre qu'une place va se libérer bientôt et que ma mère pourra avoir une chambre à l'Institut.

La communication de la nouvelle à ma mère a donné lieu à la tragi-comédie habituelle: Je ne veux pas déménager. J'ai mes amis et mes habitudes ici, comment peux-tu m'imposer un tel changement sans me consulter, etc.. Une semaine après, elle m'appelle pour me dire: Tu as raison, je serai mieux dans la nouvelle résidence, j'ai besoin d'être encadrée. Deux jours avant la date du déménagement, nouvelle crise: Non, je ne veux pas partir. Non, je ne t'ai jamais dit que j'acceptais. Pourquoi est ce que tu ne me préviens jamais à l'avance de ces choses, etc.


Mardi matin: Jour J. J'ai pris un jour de congé au bureau. Je me présente chez ma mère à l'heure convenue, mais - surprise! - elle avait complètement oublié et venait juste de se lever. Alors qu'elle se prépare, ma tante arrive et à nous deux, on l'a habillée, chaussée, poussée dans la voiture et hop, en cinq minutes, on est devant le foyer pour les aînés de l'Institut.

L'accueil est super chaleureux et la préposée, une infirmière nommée France, a été d'une patience infinie avec ma mère, répondant en souriant aux mêmes questions cent fois répétées: "Quand est-ce que j'aurai une chambre privée?" (Je ne peux vous le dire, mais ce ne sera pas long), "C'est quoi ce machin?" (le thermostat), "Et ça?" (le bouton que vous poussez pour appeler une infirmière), "Et quand est-ce que je pourrai avoir ma propre chambre?" (Ce ne sera pas très long), "Et c'est quoi ce truc sur le mur?" (le thermostat), "Qu'est-ce que c'est que ce bouton?" (c'est pour appeler une infirmière), etc.

France a essayé d'amadouer ma mère en lui expliquant que la chambre est en principe semi-privée, mais qu'elle a la chambre à elle pratiquement tout le temps, parce que la femme qui partage sa chambre part tôt le matin et ne rentre que tard le soir pour dormir. Peine perdue, toute la journée, c'est: "Quand est ce que j'aurai ma propre chambre?" "C'est vraiment lugubre ici, on se croirait dans un hôpital", "c'est trop déprimant toutes ces vieilles dames en fauteuil roulant", "quand est-ce que j'irai dans une chambre privée", etc..

Entre temps, je dois faire la navette entre la nouvelle résidence et l'ancienne pour mettre ses affaires dans des sacs et les lui apporter, les installer. Je dois aussi m'occuper de la résiliation du bail, des changements d'adresse, du transfert de la ligne de téléphone, etc..

Il faut également la rassurer, mais je ne suis pas très bonne pour ça. Elle dit, en regardant autour d'elle: Maintenant je sais que ce sera ma dernière place avant de mourir. Je réponds: Tu dramatises encore. Quelle différence entre ici et l'ancienne résidence? Quand on meurt, on meurt.

Elle me demande de venir la visiter tous les jours, parce qu'elle est angoissée, ce qui veut dire que je dois y aller après le bureau, alors que j'ai plein de contrats de traduction à faire à la maison (2e shift). Mais comment refuser?... Des tas de gens viennent la voir dans sa nouvelle chambre pour se présenter et lui souhaiter la bienvenue: les docteurs, les infirmières, etc... Elle me présente en pointant du doigt: "C'est ma mère!", puis voyant les sourires des gens, elle essaye de se corriger: "Je veux dire: Je suis ma fille!".

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Le Beau Danube Bleu

Pour tous les amateurs de musique classique, voici, sur YouTube, un extrait du DVD du concert du Nouvel An 2008 de l'Orchestre philharmonique de Vienne, qui joue l'incontournable Danube Bleu de Johann Strauss Fils, sous la direction du chef d'orchestre français Georges Prêtre.

Tout est sublime, la musique, le décor somptueux, le couple de danseurs (encore que le mec est là simplement pour servir de repoussoir et d'écrin à la fille, pour la porter en tourbillonnant comme une toupie et pour courir après elle, le bras tendu comme un imbécile).

Très beau.

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystall Skull


Indiana Jones must be my favoritest of all action heroes: smart, erudite and manly, with a wicked sense of humor. He has no super powers, he makes mistakes and gets hurt, but he always wins in the end. His hat, his leather jacket and his whip give him a distinctive iconic silhouette.

When the kids were small, we used to play a game where one of us would hum the theme song of a film and the others would guess the title of the film. Try as I may, I always ended up humming the Indiana Jones song. Our family also likes to use phrases from our favorite films in our daily conversations, and one of the quotes which we used a lot was: "You chose wisely", from "Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade".

Now I'm on pins and needles waiting for the next adventure: "Indiana Jones and The The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull" (They say: 22 May 2008)

Official Trailer:



Fanmade Trailer:


Official website: http://www.indianajones.com/site/index.html
Wikipedia: http://tinyurl.com/335xly

Rock Band Hero

For Christmas, our family acquired (among other junks) two video games for our XBox : Guitar Hero and Rock Band. Of course, by now, everybody knows about these games, but since my blog is read by old coots and other clueless dinosaurs (if it's read at all), I have to explain that Guitar Hero is a game that comes with a guitar shaped controller and the aim is to play the notes of a song as they scroll down your monitor or your TV.

Let me open some parentheses for a minute here:

Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler, right, and guitarist Joe Perry,
at the Tweeter Center in Mansfield, Mass.

Two years ago, Aerosmith guitarist Joe Perry came home and found his youngest son, Roman, now 16, playing Guitar Hero with friends. "I played it a little bit and said, 'This is fantastic. Does it have any Aerosmith songs on it?' " Perry says. "The first game didn't, and I was hugely (upset)." Problem fixed: The first one-band edition of the game, Guitar Hero: Aerosmith, is due in June for PlayStation 2 and 3, Xbox 360 and Wii. GH: Aerosmith will track the history of the Rock and Roll Hall of Famers, who have sold 100 million-plus albums.

"It's got our whole career, from the first place we ever played as a band, Nipmuc High School (in 1970, about 40 miles from Boston) to the (2001) Super Bowl halftime show," says lead singer Steven Tyler. "It's 30 years of the legend of Aerosmith and where we played to get where we are."

Aerosmith can be played by one or two players, who start out as Perry and can unlock guitarist Brad Whitford and bass player Tom Hamilton. The entire band did motion-capture sessions so screen images would be realistic.

"It's a cartoon, but it's got all my movements and Steven's movements," Perry says. "You can tell it's Joey (Kramer) playing the drums."


OK, close parentheses.

Rock Band is based on the same principles, but it can be set up for up to four players and it comes with a guitar peripheral for lead guitar and bass guitar gameplay, a drum peripheral, and a microphone.


Each player is represented on the stage by a different character, which can be personalized with various ethnicities and clothes and haircuts, tattoos, etc.. As the band plays more gigs and acquires more money and more fans, it can get better transportation (private jet plane, for example), better instruments or private bodyguards, etc..

Since we got those games, our lives have changed and our popularity has soared. It's like karaoke, but worse, because you get to ruin the background music by playing the various instruments badly, on top of ruining the song by singing off key. My children's friends all love Rock Band and I have now irrefutable proof that I have no sense of rhythm and not much of a voice either. So if you can afford the game Rock Band, and if you can find it (there were some scarcity problems around Christmas), go ahead and buy it: it will change your life!

Rock Band vs Guitar Hero


Related article: Rock Band vs. Guitar Hero: http://www.ugo.com/games/rock-band-vs-guitar-hero/


And this warning (click on image to enlarge) :

Friday, February 15, 2008

Planet B-Boy

My son The Dancer is waiting impatiently for the new movie "Planet B-Boy" to come out. March 8th is the official date in North America.

Here are two trailers, while waiting...





The official website: http://www.planetbboy.com/

I Didn't Get A Valentine Card


It's A Miracle!!!

Miracle Toast


Atheist sees image of Big Bang in Piece of Toast [http://tinyurl.com/24xxnu]

(ACPA-London) Excitement is growing in the Northern England town of Huddlesfield following the news that a local man saw an image of the Big-Bang in a piece of toast. Atheist Donald Chapman, 36, told local newspaper, "The Huddlesfield Express" that he was sitting down to eat breakfast when an unusual toast pattern caught his eye.

"I was just about to spread the butter when I noticed a fairly typical small hole in the bread surrounded by a burnt black ring. However the direction and splatter patterns of the crumbs as well as the changing shades emanating outwards from this black hole were very clearly similar to the chaotic-dynamic non-linear patterns that one would expect following the Big Bang". "It's the beginning of the world" he added excitedly.

Ever since news of the discovery made national headlines, local hoteliers have been overwhelmed by an influx of atheists from all over the country who have flocked to Huddlesfield to catch a glimpse of the scientific relic. "I have always been an atheist and to see my life choices validated on a piece of toast is truly astounding" said one guest at the Huddlesfield Arms Hotel.

To the surprise of many, the UK National Atheist Association has asked its members not to pay attention to the story despite its potential to inspire less Faith. "Given what the religious believe already, this is an easy sell" said one disgruntled activist who said he was going to Huddlesfield anyway noting that "Seeing is not believing".

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Getting old



Note to my son The B-Boy: Don't worry, I won't shame you by trying to do the same thing. I'm thinking more of ... rapping!

Going insane 'cos all a this stress on my brain I don't care
I kill it with HIP, kill it with HOP
Every day is a struggle they burst your bubble whole lot of trouble
I kill it with HIP, kill it with HOP....





Screw Valentine's Day!



Tomorrow is St Valentine's Day. I usually celebrate that special Day Of Love by going home after work, pet my dog, check my mail, prepare dinner, eat while watching a film or something on the TV, clean up, pet the dog, then go to bed. In other words, my usual routine. I can hardly wait.

In the meantime, listen to what children have to say about love and marriage. (http://www.misscellania.com/)

How Do You Decide Who To Marry?

You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming. --Alan, age 10

No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. GOD decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with. --Kirsten, age 10

What Is The Right Age To Get Married?

Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then. --Camille, age 10

No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married. --Freddie, age 6

How Can A Stranger Tell If Two People Are Married?

You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids. --Derrick, age 8

What Do You Think Your Mom And Dad Have In Common?

Both don't want any more kids. --Lori, age 8

What Do Most People Do On A Date?

Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough. --Lynnette, age 8

On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date. -- Martin, age 10


What Would You Do On A First Date That Was Turning Sour?

I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns. --Craig, age 9

When Is It Okay To Kiss Someone?

When they're rich. --Pam, age 7

The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that. --Curt, age 7

The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do. -- Howard, age 8

Is It Better To Be Single Or Married?

I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm never going to have sex with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed out. --Theodore, age 8

It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them. --Anita, age 9

How Would The World Be Different If People Didn't Get Married?

There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there? --Kelvin, age 8

How Would You Make A Marriage Work?

Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck. --Ricky, age 10

Monday, February 11, 2008

Culinary Globalization



At my office, we have a microwave installed in an empty room. This morning, as I went to heat up my banh bao for my morning coffee, two of my colleagues who saw me exclaimed: "Banh Bao!!" "That's what I packed for my kids' lunch today!". Their familiarity with the banh bao was a bit disconcerting, considering that the first colleague was a French (my best friend Bernouille) and the second one a Congolese (and one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen).

This is a trend that I witness frequently and it really warms my heart. Consider how the following Vietnamese/Oriental dishes are known, consumed and appreciated all over the world:

  • Cha Gio (all right, Nem, if you want to call it that way). Last time I was in Dakar (Senegal), I stuffed myself with some excellent cha gio and the lady who made them laughed at me when I asked her where she got the recipe of a Vietnamese dish: "What Vietnamese dish, this is typical Senegalese cuisine!" And she was serious too. Apparently, Senegal being a French colony like Vietnam, Senegalese soldiers were sent to Vietnam to fight the French colonial war; they went home with Vietnamese wives and the rest is history. The Chinese, the Philippinos and the Indonesians also have their own versions of eggrolls, but nothing can beat the good old cha gio.





  • Banh Mi. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bánh_mì. They're cheap, they're convenient, they're delicious.




  • Ramen noodles or dried noodles in a bag. I know, they're Japanese, but again, they are so ubiquitous and all of my sons' non-Asian friends love them and eat them regularly (well, they're cheap and some can be quite tasty, especially if you add fresh ingredients like I do: bean sprouts, shallots, slices of Chinese sausage, fresh vegetables).


  • Sushi, another Japanese invention. In Montreal, you cannot go to a cocktail party without being served cha gio, dim sum or sushi. It seems to be the law now.


  • Cà phê sua đá or sweet iced coffee. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ca_phe_sua_da. There's nothing like it in the world.



There are many more examples of Oriental food gone mainstream, but I want to conclude by paying respect to a special Vietnamese dish that has acquired universal appeal, the one and only Pho. Even my favorite singer Otis Redding has sung about it. Take it away, Otis!





Pho, pho, pho, pho, pho, pho, pho, pho, pho, Your turn!

Friday, February 08, 2008

Les Incompétents

Pour ceux qui ont vu le film "Home Alone", vous vous souvenez de la scène où un des frères (ou cousins) de Macaulay Culkin, à qui il demandait de l'aider à faire ses valises, lui a répondu: "You are what the French call 'les incompétents'.

Eh ben, moi aussi j'ai droit à l'épithète. J'ai l'air comme ça super douée dans mon travail et tout, mais dans la vraie vie, je me mets toujours dans des pétrins invraisembables (et parfaitement évitables) par procrastination, par inattention, par incompétence, quoi.


Quelques exemples:
  • je ne paie jamais mes contraventions quand je les reçois et je me ramasse avec des centaines de dollars de pénalité, que je ne me résouds à payer que sous la menace de confiscation de ma voiture.
  • je ne soumets jamais ma déclaration d'impôts à temps, d'où pénalité, embarras, etc.. J'ai encore sur mon bureau une lettre du fisc me rappelant qu'ils attendent encore ma déclaration de 2006!!
  • j'ai raté l'éclipse lunaire du siècle, alors que j'avais tout préparé, téléscope, flasque de cognac, etc. parce que je n'avais pas noté l'heure, pourtant indiquée dans tous les journaux.
  • ma chienne pue parce qu'elle n'a pas eu de bain depuis plus d'un mois. J'aime bien son odeur "fauve", mais elle commence à se gratter.... Et elle dort dans mon lit!!
et l'exemple le plus récent:
    • je me suis trompée sur la date du Têt et je l'ai célébré avc un jour de retard. Alors que tous les Vietnamiens de Montréal ont invoqué leurs ancêtres le mercredi 6 février à minuit, ma famille a accueilli ses ancêtres le jeudi 7 à minuit.
    • Non seulement ça, mais une amie canadienne qui voulait aussi célébrer le nouvel an lunaire a eu la mauvaise idée de me demander des conseils, ce qui fait que, elle aussi, elle a fêté la nouvelle année avec un jour de retard!! Je ne lui encore rien dit, parce que j'ai trop honte.
    • Et non seulement ça, mais durant la cérémonie du jeudi, je n'avais pas servi le traditionnel banh chung, parce que je n'en avais pas de frais sous la main. C'est pourquoi ce soir, je vais devoir faire une nouvelle cérémonie post scriptum, pour demander aux ancêtres de revenir manger du banh chung frais.


Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Good Bye To All That, Part.2

Women hold up half the sky (Mao ZeDong)

Being non-American, I have no say in the Presidential nomination campaign, but like the rest of the world, I have a keen interest in the process and in its results. Being a woman however, I am enraged by the sexist irrational and unfair attacks and criticism directed at Senator Clinton. I know I'm not the only one, but any protests or objections against such a trend are always drowned out by the Obama Cult noise machine.

So I would like to reproduce here a text by Robin Morgan called Good Bye To All That no.2. (http://www.womensmediacenter.com/ex/020108.html)

Who is Robin Morgan? An award-winning writer, feminist leader, political analyst, journalist, editor, and co-founder of the Women's Media Center, Robin Morgan has published 21 books, including six of poetry, four of fiction, and the now-classic anthologies Sisterhood Is Powerful, Sisterhood Is Global, and Sisterhood Is Forever. Her work has been translated into 13 languages. A founder of contemporary U.S. feminism, she has also been a leader in the international women's movement for 25 years.

February 2, 2008

“Goodbye To All That” was my (in)famous 1970 essay breaking free from a politics of accommodation especially affecting women (for an online version, see http://blog.fair-use.org/category/chicago/).

During my decades in civil-rights, anti-war, and contemporary women’s movements, I’ve avoided writing another specific “Goodbye . . .” But not since the suffrage struggle have two communities—joint conscience-keepers of this country—been so set in competition, as the contest between Hillary Rodham Clinton (HRC) and Barack Obama (BO) unfurls. So.

Goodbye to the double standard . . .
—Hillary is too ballsy but too womanly, a Snow Maiden who’s emotional, and so much a politician as to be unfit for politics.
—She’s “ambitious” but he shows “fire in the belly.” (Ever had labor pains?)
—When a sexist idiot screamed “Iron my shirt!” at HRC, it was considered amusing; if a racist idiot shouted “Shine my shoes!” at BO, it would’ve inspired hours of airtime and pages of newsprint analyzing our national dishonor.
—Young political Kennedys—Kathleen, Kerry, and Bobby Jr.—all endorsed Hillary. Senator Ted, age 76, endorsed Obama. If the situation were reversed, pundits would snort “See? Ted and establishment types back her, but the forward-looking generation backs him.” (Personally, I’m unimpressed with Caroline’s longing for the Return of the Fathers. Unlike the rest of the world, Americans have short memories. Me, I still recall Marilyn Monroe’s suicide, and a dead girl named Mary Jo Kopechne in Chappaquiddick.)

Goodbye to the toxic viciousness . . .
Carl Bernstein's disgust at Hillary’s “thick ankles.” Nixon-trickster Roger Stone’s new Hillary-hating 527 group, “Citizens United Not Timid” (check the capital letters). John McCain answering “How do we beat the bitch?" with “Excellent question!” Would he have dared reply similarly to “How do we beat the black bastard?” For shame.

Goodbye to the HRC nutcracker with metal spikes between splayed thighs. If it was a tap-dancing blackface doll, we would be righteously outraged—and they would not be selling it in airports. Shame.

Goodbye to the most intimately violent T-shirts in election history, including one with the murderous slogan “If Only Hillary had married O.J. Instead!” Shame.

Goodbye to Comedy Central’s “Southpark” featuring a storyline in which terrorists secrete a bomb in HRC’s vagina. I refuse to wrench my brain down into the gutter far enough to find a race-based comparison. For shame.

Goodbye to the sick, malicious idea that this is funny. This is not “Clinton hating,” not “Hillary hating.” This is sociopathic woman-hating. If it were about Jews, we would recognize it instantly as anti-Semitic propaganda; if about race, as KKK poison. Hell, PETA would go ballistic if such vomitous spew were directed at animals. Where is our sense of outrage—as citizens, voters, Americans?

Goodbye to the news-coverage target-practice . . . The women’s movement and Media Matters wrung an apology from MSNBC’s Chris Matthews for relentless misogynistic comments (http://www.womensmediacenter.com/). But what about NBC’s Tim Russert’s continual sexist asides and his all-white-male panels pontificating on race and gender? Or CNN’s Tony Harris chuckling at “the chromosome thing” while interviewing a woman from The White House Project? And that’s not even mentioning Fox News.

Goodbye to pretending the black community is entirely male and all women are white . . . Surprise! Women exist in all opinions, pigmentations, ethnicities, abilities, sexual preferences, and ages—not only African American and European American but Latina and Native American, Asian American and Pacific Islanders, Arab American and — hey, every group, because a group wouldn’t exist if we hadn’t given birth to it. A few non-racist countries may exist—but sexism is everywhere. No matter how many ways a woman breaks free from other discriminations, she remains a female human being in a world still so patriarchal that it’s the “norm.”

So why should all women not be as justly proud of our womanhood and the centuries, even millennia, of struggle that got us this far, as black Americans, women and men, are justly proud of their struggles?

Goodbye to a campaign where he has to pass as white (which whites — especially wealthy ones — adore), while she has to pass as male (which both men and women demanded of her, and then found unforgivable). If she were blackor he were female we wouldn’t be having such problems, and I for one would be in heaven. But at present such a candidate wouldn’t stand a chance—even if she shared Condi Rice’s Bush-defending politics.

I was celebrating the pivotal power at last focused on African American women deciding on which of two candidates to bestow their vote — until a number of Hillary-supporting black feminists told me they’re being called “race traitors.”

So goodbye to conversations about this nation’s deepest scar — slavery — which fail to acknowledge that labor- and sexual-slavery exist today in the U.S. and elsewhere on this planet, and the majority of those enslaved are women.

Women have endured sex/race/ethnic/religious hatred, rape and battery, invasion of spirit and flesh, forced pregnancy; being the majority of the poor, the illiterate, the disabled, of refugees, caregivers, the HIV/AIDS afflicted, the powerless. We have survived invisibility, ridicule, religious fundamentalisms, polygamy, teargas, forced feedings, jails, asylums, sati, purdah, female genital mutilation, witch burnings, stonings, and attempted gynocides. We have tried reason, persuasion, reassurances, and being extra-qualified, only to learn it never was about qualifications after all. We
know that at this historical moment women experience the world differently from men — though not all the same as one another—and can govern differently, from Elizabeth Tudor to Michele Bachelet and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

We remember when Shirley Chisholm and Patricia Schroeder ran for this high office and barely got past the gate—they showed too much passion, raised too little cash, were joke fodder. Goodbye to all that. (And goodbye to some feminists so famished for a female president they were even willing to abandon women’s rights in backing Elizabeth Dole.)

Goodbye, goodbye to . . .
—blaming anything Bill Clinton does on Hillary (even including his womanizing like the Kennedy guys—though unlike them, he got reported on). Let’s get real. If he hadn’t campaigned strongly for her everyone would cluck over what that meant. Enough of Bill and Teddy Kennedy locking their alpha male horns while Hillary pays for it.
—an era when parts of the populace feel so disaffected by politics that a comparative lack of knowledge, experience, and skill is actually seen as attractive, when celebrity-culture mania now infects our elections so that it’s “cooler” to glow with marquee charisma than to understand the vast global complexities of power on a nuclear, wounded planet.
—the notion that it’s fun to elect a handsome, cocky president who feels he can learn on the job, goodbye to George W. Bush and the destruction brought by his inexperience, ignorance, and arrogance.

Goodbye to the accusation that HRC acts “entitled” when she’s worked intensely at everything she’s done—including being a nose-to-the-grindstone, first-rate senator from my state.

Goodbye to her being exploited as a Rorschach test by women who reduce her to a blank screen on which they project their own fears, failures, fantasies.

Goodbye to the phrase “polarizing figure” to describe someone who embodies the transitions women have made in the last century and are poised to make in this one. It was the women’s movement that quipped, “We are becoming the men we wanted to marry.” She heard us, and she has.

Goodbye to some women letting history pass by while wringing their hands, because Hillary isn’t as “likeable” as they’ve been warned they must be, or because she didn’t leave him, couldn’t “control” him, kept her family together and raised a smart, sane daughter. (Think of the blame if Chelsea had ever acted in the alcoholic, neurotic manner of the Bush twins!) Goodbye to some women pouting because she didn’t bake cookies or she did, sniping because she learned the rules and then bent or broke them. Grow the hell up. She is not running for Ms.-perfect-pure-queen-icon of the feminist movement. She’s running to be president of the United States.

Goodbye to the shocking American ignorance of our own and other countries’ history. Margaret Thatcher and Golda Meir rose through party ranks and war, positioning themselves as proto-male leaders. Almost all other female heads of government so far have been related to men of power—granddaughters, daughters, sisters, wives, widows: Gandhi, Bandaranike, Bhutto, Aquino, Chamorro, Wazed, Macapagal-Arroyo, Johnson Sirleaf, Bachelet, Kirchner, and more. Even in our “land of opportunity,” it’s mostly the first pathway “in” permitted to women: Representatives Doris Matsui and Mary Bono and Sala Burton; Senator Jean Carnahan . . . far too many to list here.

Goodbye to a misrepresented generational divide . . .
Goodbye to the so-called spontaneous “Obama Girl” flaunting her bikini-clad ass online — then confessing Oh yeah it wasn’t her idea after all, some guys got her to do it and dictated the clothes, which she said “made me feel like a dork.”

Goodbye to some young women eager to win male approval by showing they’re not feminists (at least not the kind who actually threaten thestatus quo), who can’t identify with a woman candidate because she is unafraid of eeueweeeu yucky power, who fear their boyfriends might look at them funny if they say something good about her. Goodbye to women of any age again feeling unworthy, sulking “what if she’s not electable?” or “maybe it’s post-feminism and whoooosh we’re already free.” Let a statement by the magnificent Harriet Tubman stand as reply. When asked how she managed to save hundreds of enslaved African Americans via the Underground Railroad during the Civil War, she replied bitterly, “I could have saved thousands—if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.”

I’d rather say a joyful Hello to all the glorious young women who do identifywith Hillary, and all the brave, smart men—of all ethnicities and any age—who get that it’s in their self-interest, too. She’s better qualified. (D’uh.) She’s a high-profile candidate with an enormous grasp of foreign- and domestic-policy nuance, dedication to detail, ability to absorb staggering insult and personal pain while retaining dignity, resolve, even humor, and keep on keeping on. (Also, yes, dammit, let’s hear it for her connections and funding and party-building background, too. Obama was awfully glad about those when she raised dough and campaigned for him to get to the Senate in the first place.)

I’d rather look forward to what a good president he might make in eight years, when his vision and spirit are seasoned by practical know-how—and he’ll be all of 54. Meanwhile, goodbye to turning him into a shining knight when actually he’s an astute, smooth pol with speechwriters who’ve worked with the Kennedys’ own speechwriter-courtier Ted Sorenson. If it’s only about ringing rhetoric, let speechwriters run. But isn’t it about getting the policies we want enacted?

And goodbye to the ageism . . .
How dare anyone unilaterally decide when to turn the page on history, papering over real inequities and suffering constituencies in the promise of a feel-good campaign? How dare anyone claim to unify while dividing, or think that to rouse U.S. youth from torpor it’s useful to triage the single largest demographic in this country’s history: the boomer generation—the majority of which is female?

Old woman are the one group that doesn’t grow more conservative with age—and we are the generation of radicals who said “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Goodbye to going gently into any goodnight any man prescribes for us. We are the women who changed the reality of the United States. And though we never went away, brace yourselves: we’re back!

We are the women who brought this country equal credit, better pay, affirmative action, the concept of a family-focused workplace; the women who established rape-crisis centers and battery shelters, marital-rape and date-rape laws; the women who defended lesbian custody rights, who fought for prison reform, founded the peace and environmental movements; who insisted that medical research include female anatomy; who inspired men to become more nurturing parents; who created women’s studies and Title IX so we all could cheer the WNBA stars and Mia Hamm. We are the women who reclaimed sexuality from violent pornography, who put childcare on the national agenda, who transformed demographics, artistic expression, language itself. We are the women who forged a worldwide movement. We are the proud successors of women who, though it took more than 50 years, won us the vote.

We are the women who now comprise the majority of U.S. voters.

Hillary said she found her own voice in New Hampshire. There’s not a woman alive who, if she’s honest, doesn’t recognize what she means. Then HRC got drowned out by campaign experts, Bill, and media’s obsession with everything Bill.

So listen to her voice:

“For too long, the history of women has been a history of silence. Even today, there are those who are trying to silence our words.

“It is a violation of human rights when babies are denied food, or drowned, or suffocated, or their spines broken, simply because they are born girls. It is a violation of human rights when woman and girls are sold into the slavery of prostitution. It is a violation of human rights when women are doused with gasoline, set on fire and burned to death because their marriage dowries are deemed too small. It is a violation of human rights when individual women are raped in their own communities and when thousands of women are subjected to rape as a tactic or prize of war. It is a violation of human rights when a leading cause of death worldwide along women ages 14 to 44 is the violence they are subjected to in their own homes. It is a violation of human rights when women are denied the right to plan their own families, and that includes being forced to have abortions or being sterilized against their will.

“Women’s rights are human rights. Among those rights are the right to speak freely—and the right to be heard.”

That was Hillary Rodham Clinton defying the U.S. State Department and the Chinese Government at the 1995 UN World Conference on Women in Beijing (look here for the full, stunning speech).

And this voice, age 21, in “Commencement Remarks of Hillary D. Rodham, President of Wellesley College Government Association, Class of 1969.”

“We are, all of us, exploring a world none of us understands. . . . searching for a more immediate, ecstatic, and penetrating mode of living. . . . [for the] integrity, the courage to be whole, living in relation to one another in the full poetry of existence. The struggle for an integrated life existing in an atmosphere of communal trust and respect is one with desperately important political and social consequences. . . . Fear is always with us, but we just don't have time for it.”

She ended with the commitment “to practice, with all the skill of our being: the art of making possible.”

And for decades, she’s been learning how.

So goodbye to Hillary’s second-guessing herself. The real question is deeper than her re-finding her voice. Can we women find ours? Can we do this for ourselves?

“Our President, Ourselves!”

Time is short and the contest tightening. We need to rise in furious energy—as we did when Anita Hill was so vilely treated in the U.S. Senate, as we did when Rosie Jiminez was butchered by an illegal abortion, as we did and do for women globally who are condemned for trying to break through. We need to win, this time. Goodbye to supporting HRC tepidly, with ambivalent caveats and apologetic smiles. Time to volunteer, make phone calls, send emails, donate money, argue, rally, march, shout, vote.

Me? I support Hillary Rodham because she’s the best qualified of all candidates running in both parties. I support her because her progressive politics are as strong as her proven ability to withstand what will be a massive right-wing assault in the general election. I support her because she knows how to get us out of Iraq. I support her because she’s refreshingly thoughtful, and I’m bloodied from eight years of a jolly “uniter” with ejaculatory politics. I needn’t agree with her on every point. I agree with the 97 percent of her positions that are identical with Obama’s—and the few where hers are both more practical and to the left of his (like health care). I support her because she’s already smashed the first-lady stereotype and made history as a fine senator, because I believe she will continue to make history not only as the first US woman president, but as a great US president.

As for the “woman thing”?

Me, I’m voting for Hillary not because she’s a woman—but because I am.



Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Shopping pour le Têt

L'Année du Rat de Terre


Traditionnellement, les Vietnamiens économisent leur argent toute l'année pour le dépenser avant et pendant le Têt. Le Têt est l'occasion pour tout, en fait: repeindre la maison, tout nettoyer de fond en comble, décorer la maison avec des fleurs et des plantes vertes, acheter des vêtements neufs pour toute l'année, raffraîchir sa permanente pour toute l'année, aller visiter sa famille à la campagne, etc..


Maintenant, les gens riches sont de plus en plus nombreux au Vietnam et, évidemment, leurs habitudes de dépenses ne sont pas les mêmes que celles du reste de la population.


Extrait du Courrier du Vietnam: (http://lecourrier.vnagency.com.vn/default.asp)

Quelques jours avant le Têt, les employés du magasin Louis Vuitton, situé dans le bâtiment Opera View, à Hô Chi Minh-Ville, sont satisfaits du chiffre d'affaires qui augmente d'un jour à l'autre. Leurs "rois" - des Vietnamiennes, âgées d'entre 20 et 30 ans - achètent chacune en un clin d'œil 3 ou 4 sacs, pour plus de 4.000 dollars la pièce. À quelques pas de là, chez Gucci et D & G, à l'hôtel Sheraton, les clients signent des factures de plus 3.000 dollars, et ce n'est pas rare.



Vuitton dans le métro de Tokyo

Acheter des grandes marques européennes comme Louis Vuitton, D & G, Lacoste, Gucci ou Cartier… tel est le must des riches", remarque Pham Thi Thanh T., 26 ans, fille du président du conseil d'administration d'une compagnie de produits aquatiques. Elle sait de quoi elle parle. En possession d’environ 500 milliards de dôngs d'actions, elle touche plus 30 milliards de dôngs de dividendes par an. Alors un sac Louis Vuitton, des vêtements Burberry, une montre Cartier, ça fait quoi ? 21.000 dollars au total ? Une broutille !



À Hô Chi Minh-Ville, un homme d'affaires qui dépense des dizaines de milliers de dollars pour ses costumes, ses lunettes ou ses cravates, ce n'est plus insolite. "Certaines femmes vont non seulement à Singapour ou à Hongkong faire leurs achats, mais aussi en France, en Italie, au Japon ou en Corée du Sud pour leurs soins corporels. Chaque voyage coûte plusieurs centaines de millions de dôngs", fait savoir Vo Thi Thuy H., femme d'affaires dans l'immobilier. C'est une tendance de plus en plus répandue. Après une longue année de travail, les riches dépensent sans compter pour satisfaire leurs envies.

Bling bling

"L'achat de produits de luxe fait désormais partie des récents loisirs de nouveaux riches pour le Têt. Les milliardaires, eux, ont des dépenses plus originales", commente le président du conseil d'administration d'une banque. Ce dernier a récemment dépensé plus de 64.000 dollars pour 8 poissons bôi huyêt long. Après 3 années de "chasse", un milliardaire de l'immobilier de Hô Chi Minh-Ville a enfin trouvé l'abricotier de ses rêves : il a 150 ans et atteint la modique somme de 100 taëls d'or. De même à Hanoi, un homme d'affaires n'a pas hésité à s'acquitter de 30 millions de dôngs pour un pêcher séculaire qui fait 3,5 m de haut.





Le Têt n'est plus seulement l'occasion de festoyer en famille. La tendance est aux vacances. De plus en plus de Vietnamiens profitent de ces jours chômés pour boucler leurs valises. Pour les plus aisés, direction l'Europe occidentale. Estimations : entre 30.000 et 40.000 dollars par famille. Certains opérateurs touristiques tels que Viet Travel ou Saigontourism ont proposé pour l'occasion des circuits haut de gamme.

Par ailleurs, bon nombre de fortunés ont récemment fait importer des voitures de luxe pour les "inaugurer" pendant le Têt. Duong Thi Bach Diêp, figure éminente de l'immobilier de Hô Chi Minh-Ville, vient d'acquérir une Phantom version 2008, estimée à plus de 22 milliards de dôngs. Plus couramment, des voitures sont vendues plus de 500.000 dollars.




Phantom de Rolls-Royce

Monday, February 04, 2008

Vaseline or Sandpaper?

Obama is riding a tsunami of support, even among some Republicans. Not only is he the darling of the mainstream media, but quite a few number of conservatives have endorsed him or otherwise are rooting for his victory.

The main reason given is that, contrary to Hillary, Obama is the uniter who will transcend partisan lines and will be willing to start a civil dialog with Republicans, without any of the meanness expected from Senator Clinton. «We’re so tired of divisiveness and confrontation», the Republicans say. What they didn’t say is that their Party started the divisiveness and confrontation, with the Decider-in-Chief being the prime culprit and the mainstream media an eager accomplice. In the case of Hillary Clinton in particular, the attacks have started a long time ago and have never really stopped.

Hillary with the tool she will use on the Republicans after she wins

So my question to the Right is this : If you’re so tired of the bickering and the scorched earth practice, why didn’t you say anything when your side was the source of all the swiftboating and the rovian dirty tricks?

Now that the fortunes have changed and the election of a new Democratic president is practically a done deal, now that Codpiece is done with the eradication of millions of lives in Irak and in the US, and with the destruction of the US reputation and its economy, you run to pay tributes to the one Democratic candidate who promises not to bear a grudge.

That reminds me of an ugly episode of the French liberation when thousands of French women who were accused of sleeping with Nazi officers had their head forcibly shaven in public and swastikas painted on their face. Not a pretty sight.

God knows I'm not saying that that's the fate that will await the Republicans should Hillary become president, but who wants to take a chance? So if I were a Republican, I too would hop on the Obama bandwagon. And I, for one, will gladly welcome my new Obama overlord. The thing that you can count on, though, should Obama win, is that he will use vaseline. That’s the kind of nice guy he is. With Eeeevil Hillary, it'll be sandpaper, bitches!!!


No Vaseline for you, bitches!!!

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Sunday Video: Confession Part III

It's a video of Usher singing his hit song "Confession Part II", but the audio is from Weird Al Yancovic's cover "Confession III".





The real Usher video is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgJY_p9etvc&feature=related

And here are the lyrics of Confession III, so you can sing along. Best I can do, short of setting up a karaoke session (Sorry, KCA!):

Watch this

These are my confessions
Just when I thought I said all I could say I came up up with more secrets to tell you today
These are my confessions
Slip my mind the last two times
Silly me, so now I gotta give you part three of my confessions
First I told you about the skank that I was cheating with, then I mentioned she's having my kid
That's not all, now I recall more, you see, so I'll give you part three of my confessions

Now this is gonna be the hardest thing I ever had to do,
Gonna tell you everything I left out of parts one and two.
Like, remember when I told you I knew Paulie Shore (Paulie Shore)
That's a lie, I don't know what I said that for.
I borrowed your chap stick (from you)
Without asking you, I tried out your nose hair trimmer (too)
And by the way your diamond ring is cubic zirconium,
I killed your goldfish accidentally, just replaced it with another one.

These are my confessions
Just when I thought I said all I could say I needed to get some things off my chest right away
These are my confessions
Slipped my mind the last two times, silly me, I guess I gotta give you part three of my confessions
I threw up on your dog last time I had too much to drink
There have been times when I've peed in your sink
Don't know why, but you and I should agree that belongs in part three of my confessions.

Baby forgive me I'm still trying to figure out why I used your toothbrush to clean off the bathroom grout
Oh and sometimes in private, I really like to dress up like Shirley Temple and spank myself with a hockey stick (hockey stick)
My boss thinks I'm a jerk, I didn't get that raise.
I haven't changed my underwear in twenty-seven days!
And when I'm kissing you I fantasize you're a midget.
I'm so sorry Debbie! I mean Bridget!

These are my confessions
Just when I thought I said all I could say I got a few more secrets I'd like to convey
These are my confessions
Slipped my mind the last two times, silly me, now I guess I gotta give you part three of my confessions
Gave you buttered toast I dropped and then picked up off the floor
FYI it was not a cold sore
Oops my bad, but you'll be madder at me when I finish part three of my confessions

You don't know how hard it is for me to tell you this, but remember that shirt that you got me for my birthday?
Well, I returned it for store credit. That thing was hideous, what were you thinking?
And by the way, I wasn't really sick last week,
I just didn't wanna go to your stupid office picnic,
Oh, and when I told you at breakfast we were all out of rice krispies,
What I meant was that there was only enough left for me. Sorry.

These are my confessions
Just when I thought I said all I could say, I thought of some more things that should scare you away
These are my confessions
Slipped my mind the last two times, silly me, I guess I gotta give you part three of my confessions
Once I blew my nose and then I wiped it on your cat.
And I lied, yes that dress makes you look fat.
Anyway, I shouldn't say anymore 'til I give you part four of my confessions.

Cinquième Tempête de Neige

Y a quelqu'un?


La Presse, 3 février 2008: (http://tinyurl.com/3aftlt)

L’est du pays se remet d’une autre importante tempête hivernale. Environ 25 centimètres de neige sont tombés sur Montréal, où les opérations de déneigement ont commencé hier soir.

Cette opération de déneigement comporte une nouveauté. Depuis hier soir, les Montréalais peuvent compter sur les 2500 espaces de stationnement que la Ville met gratuitement à leur disposition durant la période de chargement de la neige. Cette initiative, réalisée avec Stationnement de Montréal, devrait aider les propriétaires de véhicules à libérer les rues lors du passage des appareils de déneigement.

Les espaces de stationnement sont répartis en 25 parcs. Ils sont disponibles à partir de 18 h et doivent être libérés dès 7 h le lendemain. Les gens doivent retirer leur voiture ou payer le tarif indiqué.

La la la ... Il a neigé euh!