by Sarah in Chicago
[WARNING!!!!!!!: Spoilers for the past three seasons of BSG and BSG: Razor.]
This weekend was a moment in geek history that may have passed the rest of the non-geek world by, due to the debilitating affliction of not being into science fiction (it's okay, we forgive and make allowances for you). Particularly, it was the first of what, rumour has it, will be a series of small-screen (or potentially big-screen as well) continuation, or gap-filling, movies based in the contemporary reworked Battlestar Gallactica universe. That two-hour movie was called Battlestar Gallactica: Razor.
For those of you that have not yet experienced the 21st century adaptation of the rather campy late-70s, early 80s sci-fi television series, you have my condolences. For those of you that are not even aware that such existed, I hope the last few years you spent in the bowels of the Amazon rain forest were highly productive for you. Because, the new Battlestar Gallactica is arguably the best science-fiction television series of all time. Course, this is all dependent of taste, but I say such as an avid lover of such shows as Firefly, Star Trek (TNG particularly), and (going way back) Babylon 5.
In part, it is arguably so because of the writing, which is easily on a par with such shows as the Sopranos, Arrested Development, The Wire, etc, all of which have academy recognitions for such (not that 'BSG' ever will, because getting recognition for a science-fiction 'whatever' is like getting blood out of a Cheney). That writing is complex, dark, nuanced, unresolved, and expects intelligence and awareness out of audience (in other words, characteristics that get most shows cancelled ... as anyone aware of the popularity and proliferation of reality-TV shows will attest to). Further, like all good science-fiction is supposed to (as any science-fiction lover worth their salt will tell you) it gets deep into the meanings of what it means to be human, and particularly, human in conditions that test one's humanity. And it does so in such a way that shows that the answer isn't always pretty (which was one of my problems with Star Trek, as an aside).
The allegories of the battle between the Cylons and the remnants of humanity, and the religious involvements similarly, to such being waged today are obvious, numerous, and covered in far more detail and better in other articles than I will attempt here. It is commentary, but commentary of such quality that it forces you, as the consumer of the series, to construct your own commentary. I would argue that to a certain extent if one does not allow comparisons to our contemporary world to run parallel to the series in one's mind, then one really isn't getting that much into the series.
However, there is one aspect (or, rather, you could see it as two) that I really want to touch on, and that is the portrayal of women, and women of minority status (gay or of colour) within the series, and specifically, within Razor this weekend.
Basically, in a nutshell, Razor filled in a number of the holes surrounding how the Battlestar 'Pegasus' survived the first Cylon attack which all but annihilated humanity, waged war on the Cylons, and then met up with Gallactica and the civilian fleet. It also filled in a chunk of Commander Adama's background with the Cylons, and gave us a hint of what may be to come surrounding the final season of BSG, starting in March '08.
One of the biggest things one notices, however, is that virtually all the major characters in this movie were female. Leaving aside Adama, and his son Lee, the characters of Kara Thrace (Starbuck), Admiral Helena Cain, Aide Kendra Shaw, Technician Gina are all the central figures in this film. Male characters actually take second-shift, as merely supporting characters that allow the story revolving around these women to play out.
Admiral Helena Cain is the commanding officer of the Battlestar Pegasus, one of the newest and most powerful of the Battlestars of the Colonial Fleet, which survives the Cylon attack only because it's integrative computer network (which the Cylons penetrate, was down for repairs (this was also what saved Gallactica, btw, as being the oldest of the fleet and moments away from decommission, had no such net). They randomly jump away from an exploding construction station in Caprica orbit, fleeing what would result in the virtual genocide of humanity, losing fully one quarter of their crew in the process.
Primarily we follow the arrival of Kendra Shaw to Pegasus, just before the Cylon attack, through to contemporary times, operating as Lee Adama's XO. She is initially an aide to Admiral Cain, who becomes a mentor to Shaw. Cain obviously sees in Shaw some of herself, and goes about molding Shaw into a version of herself as a solider. Hard, relentless, powerful, and thoroughly without morals when it comes to completing the mission. The latter of which Shaw eventually fails at, despite completing the mission. Shaw is Asian (not to mention Australian, which her accent gives away strongly, a feature of the show, as no actor is told to cover up their original accent, something which is done 99% of the time for US audiences ... Lucy Lawless lets her kiwi accent come through strongly in the actual series as an example).
The survival of Pegasus puts it in a rather unique position in comparison to Gallactica, in that it has no civilian fleet to protect. As far as its crew-members know, it is all that remains of humanity, and (very importantly), the lack of civilians ensures there is no civilian foil for the military mindset. It is all military, all the time, as the character of Admiral Cain reminds us. Not long after fleeing the destruction of human civilisation, she advocates a campaign guerilla warfare against the Cylons, to which the whole of Pegasus agrees, symbolised chillingly via the singular ship-wide chanting of "So Say We All".
Cain, as the movie progresses, becomes more and more machine-like, leaving her humanity behind in her movement towards the completion of the mission. Morals, ethics, hesitation, are all left behind in order to get the job done. When her XO (and her friend) refuses an order to put their troops into the firing line that would see many of them slaughtered, Cain takes his side-arm off him and executes him in front of all the other officers on the bridge. Doing what she feels she must in order to purge all weakness, both from herself, and from her force (which, one becomes to suspect, she sees as one in the same).
But it is another moment that really reveals, and rather causes, Cain's slip into becoming a machine. Early on in the film, we discover that Cain is in a relationship with the chief civilian technician on board Pegasus, a female technician named Gina. Gina is obviously where Cain lets her guard down, lets her humanity most show, and expresses softness, and dare-we-say it, love. This is all handled matter-of-factly in the film, the only surprise for Shaw being finding out that her mentor, Cain, was in fact human, with emotions and softness. It is actually Gina that mentions this to Shaw, saying "We are all human". Cain's lesbianism as a sexuality is of no consequence.
Shaw, however, discovers Gina to be a Cylon, when she kills another version of Number Six (the Cylon model designation of which Gina is). She promptly charges onto the Pegasus CIC, pointing a rifle at Gina. When Cain sees the proof, she refers to Gina as 'It, removing all humanity simultaneously both from Gina, and consequently from Cain. There is a look between Cain and Gina where one can actually see all the trust, love and solace between them drain out, their eyes betraying all the destruction of emotion.
Cain then orders the effective torture and gang-rape of Gina, using, as she argues, the machine's ability to mimic emotion against it. We see Gina sitting on the floor of her cell, clad in ill-fitting prison-garb, totally vulnerable, totally human. While Cain stands stock still, invulnerable, powerful, machine-like, devoid of all emotion, as emotion swirls around her, storming. Later, again, the same scene, but this time, post-rape, post-degradation, post-beating, blood and injuries displayed, her head raised up, staring at Cain in resistance in defeat.
Upon discovery of a small fleet of civilian ships, Cain orders Shaw and a number of other officers to board them and strip them of what they need, in terms of resources and personnel. When the civilians naturally resist, a massacre occurs, started by Shaw. This is set alongside Cain telling Shaw about stripping away all emotion, morals, etc in order to become the Razor, so that one does what one must, to follow one's orders, to complete the mission. This, Shaw does, in putting her pistol to the forehead of a civilian woman, and killing her as the woman kneels in front of her, but only via going into a dissociative state, which she emerges from only later, remembering what she did. The remaining ships give in after the massacre, and Pegasus proceeds to strip them of all they need, leaving them behind to fend for themselves, without even such things as FTL drives.
The thing is, all these inhuman acts are position in such a way as you find yourself rooting for them. It's horrible, but you ADMIRE Cain and Shaw. You wonder if whether in the same position, if you would have the strength to do what they feel they must. Even as you recoil disgusted and revolted at a woman, Cain, ordering the rape of a prisoner in order to get information, you also recognise the sickening need to revenge at the betrayal Cain feels from Gina, which denies both Cain and Gina humanity.
The women in Razor are strong, hard, unyielding and powerful. They are complex and all-too human in the inhuman things they do. There is a comment from Commander Adama to his son Lee when Lee asks how Adama didn't go down the route Cain took in becoming a weapon. Adama says both the effect of President Rosalind and the civilian fleet being there from the beginning being his foil, and also, having children, seeing himself reflected in their eyes, seeing what he did and does in them.
This easily could be read as a denigration of child-free career women, but to quickly conclude such would be to fundamental misread of BSG in my mind. Cain doesn't exist so much as a woman in the movie and the series. Rather, she is the personification of all the dark that is in humanity when she is stripped of emotion, love and trust. When she is at her most rational, reasoned, and without hesitation (ie that which is seen as 'masculine' in our culture), can she perpetuate these crimes. Adama, as nurturing, caring, emotional, and 'soft' is seen as clinging to what is good about humanity (what is traditionally seen as 'feminine' in our culture). Cain and Adama are polar opposites, but yet opposites that have aspects of the other in them. They are simultaneously at their most strongest and most wrong when they act without all the aspects of humanity informing their decisions. The fact that Cain is female, rather then being a slight against her, actually brings this fact into even more stark relief. The contradictions with contemporary society and gender, rather than being a commentary on such, bring the wider questions of humanity in even more stark relief.
Of course, there are commentaries on contemporary constructions of gender. Like in the series, women in authority are addressed as 'Sir', just as the men are. Women are just as likely to be chosen for a risky mission as men are, and are considered expendable as soldiers (when Lee has to choose between Starbuck and Shaw for a suicide assignment). They are shown as no more, and no less, capable of both humanity and inhumanity as men are. Women, in war, have the potential of doing the most disgusting things imaginable (ordering rape as a tool of war).
Yes, of course, it IS a woman in this series that devolves down into the personification of an inhuman machine. Given the incredible propensity for lesbian women to be portrayed as either evil, insane, violent, or all three, in western media (so much so the 'evil lesbian' is a cliche now), this is something I cannot, as a lesbian myself, ignore. Cain, on the surface, fits this seemingly to a 'T'. However, as I said above, this would be a misread of BSG, a surface appraisal that takes things out of context of the BSG universe, and what is being told at a deeper level.
I am not arguing this in order to have Cain nor Shaw forgiven, because I am not. They did things that were they on Earth, one would excessively hope they would end up in front of the ICC. However, as with all women, people of colour, and now gay people, in the BSG, they are HUMAN. In their flaws, in their strengths, in their complexities, and in their contradictions, women are no less complete beings than men are. But they are shown to be such not through merely mimicking accepted contemporary masculine constructions of subjecthood and agency, but rather via investigating what it really means to be human, in all its extremes and, yes, inhumanities. The rape and torture of Gina as a machine reveals her very humanity, not because as a woman she should be raped, but because in becoming inhuman enough to order the rape, the humans on Pegasus connect themselves to her. In one of the most ultimate inhuman acts (and, arguably, the most masculine), rape, the terrifying humanity in such comes through. Through being broken down to their own inhumanities, Cain and Shaw, are ultimately shown to be human. And that disturbs us fundamentally, particularly with how much we see ourselves in the characters.
Now, I know there are people out there that would disagree with me, that will see this merely as just another evil lesbian cliche, as merely another demonisation of successful, powerful, non-maternal women in the huge, HUGE, pile of such demonisations of successful, powerful, non-maternal women out there. And they could be right. After all, this could just be post-hoc justification on my part due to my love of the show. The rape of Gina is, after all, could just be yet another example of the rape of a woman reduced to a plot-device. But given the quality of the show, I would politely suggest a deeper reading.
(Cross-posted.)
Battlestar Gallactica, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. (With apologies to Bill Shakespeare ... I'll buy him an ale)
Never Mind
I would like to offer apologies to all Shakers who spent time and energy reading my National Bible Week posts. Turns out my sources were unreliable.
16 Days of Action Against Gender Violence
Brownfemipower reminded me that today marks the first day of the 16 Days of Action Against Gender Violence, an international campaign originating "from the first Women's Global Leadership Institute sponsored by the Center for Women's Global Leadership in 1991. Participants chose the dates, November 25, International Day Against Violence Against Women and December 10, International Human Rights Day, in order to symbolically link violence against women and human rights and to emphasize that such violence is a violation of human rights."
This topic is something about which I blog regularly anyway, but I'm going to try to acknowledge this year's theme, Demanding Implementation, Challenging Obstacles: End Violence Against Women, over the course of the 16 days with some ideas about what we can all contribute to the fight to end violence against women, beyond just not engaging in violence ourselves.
One very basic way to get involved is to support the organizations working to end violence against women. Groups like Amnesty International and CARE are dependent on donations to continue their work around the globe, and your local domestic violence shelter will undoubtedly be grateful for contributions. Because many women (and children) arrive at shelters with nothing but the clothes on their backs, many shelters are also appreciative for donations of clothing, toiletries, and other basic necessities, too. Just picking up the phone and asking a local shelter what they need is a surprisingly easy way to get involved and make a real difference in your community.
Quote of the Day
"I had traditionally been a Democrat. [Voting Democrat] was almost like a reflex mode. I actually remember saying to myself, 'If I was a person really deciding who should be president right now, I'd probably vote for Nixon, because I think the country would be safer with Nixon.'"—Rudy Giuliani explaining his 1972 vote for Democratic candidate George McGovern, even though he really preferred Nixon, for real, honestly, he totally swears.
How can anyone take this guy seriously? He's ridiculous.
Guess Who Thinks Rape Is Hilarious Now?
Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, and Adam McKay:
[Transcript below.]
Nothing's more hilarious than raping a woman with your buds! That's some high-quality male bonding, dudez.
Also, the woman hilariously chasing after them screaming, "Rape! Rape!" while they run away zipping up their pants was a nice comic touch.
Seriously—where's the punchline? For that matter, where's the joke?! Even worse than the usual "rape joke" fare, this is literally just having a laugh at the idea of gang-raping a woman. It's a completely despicable and indefensible expression of overt misogyny, a tacit advocacy of rape—but no one's demanding a public apology from these hilarious comedians, because violently hating women for laughs is still just fine and dandy in America.
[Thanks to Shaker Joe for passing that along after finding it—posted favorably, natch—at HorsesAss.org. Rape just keeps getting more hilarious, the more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more jokes I hear about it.]
Green Team: Hey, hey, hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa!
McKay: Don't throw your litter on the ground.
Reilly: That's garbage!
Ferrell: There's a place for that. It's called the waste basket.
Woman 1: Who are you guys?
Adam McKay: We're the Green Team, and we're here to help.
GT: Green Team! Green Team! Green Team! Green Team!
McKay: Hi! I'm Erin Gossamer for the Green Team.
John C. Reilly: Jim Smegg for the Green Team.
Will Ferrell: Hi, I'm Arnold Darkshner for the Green Team!
McKay: Remember to unplug your cell phone charger when you're not using it.
Reilly: Do you know that disposable lighters are one of the biggest plastic polluters on the planet?
Ferrell: Turn out all the lights in any rooms you're not using.
GT: Green Team!
McKay: Don't you know how much plastic that wastes, eating that?
Guy 1: Well—
McKay: Try going to your local store and tell 'em you don't want your stuff wrapped in plastic; you want it wrapped in biodegradable napkins.
Reilly: Buy a Zone Bar that's not wrapped in a wrapper. They sell 'em in bulk!
Ferrell: You have an ID or credit card that the Green Team could see?
Guy 1: [mumbles]
McKay: Here's another healthy tip—try wrapping your feces in tin foil and saving it in a cooler. …Don't use plastic wrappers, you understand me?!
Guy 1: Yeah! I get it!
Ferrell: You understand?
Guy 1: Yeah, yeah—
Reilly: NEVER AGAIN!
GT: Green Team! Green Team! Green Team!
Reilly: Reusable packaging, ethanol, and day-old bakery goods.
Ferrell: Solar, wind power, and knives!
McKay: Biodegradable napkins, batteries, and glass dildos.
GT: Hey! Motherfu—! Hey! Whoa, whoa!
Guy 1: What is going on?
GT: [grunts and punches] Green Team, asshole!
Ferrell: Just because it's a hybrid doesn't mean it doesn't burn gas!
Reilly: Just because I'm an environmentalist doesn't mean I'm a sissy, motherfucker!
GT: [grunts and kicks]
Ferrell: Use your fucking brain!
McKay: We gotta get the fuck out of here—I think he's dead!
Guy 1: Fuck you, Green Team!
Ferrell: Run him over! Run him over!
McKay: I got a murder boner!
GT: Green Team!
McKay: Remember, when you're done with a crime scene, always bleach.
Ferrell: Looking for something fun to do with your friends? Track coyotes. And when you catch them, always remember, they're a great source of meat and protein.
Reilly: Make love to Mother Earth. Make a small hole in the ground, fill it with a little bit of water for lubrication, and go to town. Heh, just a thought.
GT: Green Team! Green Team! Green Team!
Ferrell: My mom keeps calling me and asking me if I'm gay. I don't think I'm gay.
GT: Green Team!
Reilly: [babbles unintelligibly]
McKay: Which do you think is cooler—an orca whale fighting a great white shark, or a vampire having sex? We'll never know!
Reilly: If you go into a bakery, and they sell day-old items, say, "What the fuck is this shit? Just throw it out!"
Ferrell: And a compost bin is a great place to store a baby when you're finished with them.
McKay: Ahh!
Ferrell: Hey, sugar. Don't you know smoking's not good for the environment?
Woman 2: Who are you guys? …RAPE! RAPE!
GT: Shh! Green Team. [random shouting] Green Team! Green Team!
McKay: Here's a tip—shut your fucking mouth!
The Ten Commandments as Push-Back
Our story so far: God creates this Earth thingy, and a bunch of plants and animals to decorate it, and a thingy called "Man/Adam".
Man/Adam is lonely, so God clones a "help-meet" (whatever the fuck that is) for Man/Adam, by taking a discrete sample of his DNA (Lolcatbible Gen 2:23 "I calz her "whoa man!", k? -- cuz she in ur chest taken ur ribs"), which is kind of weird, since, in cloning, the clone usually ends up the same gender as the clonee (so maybe it really was Adam and Steve after all?).
For the sake of moving the story forward, however, let's assume that God really is a rocket scientist, and got all the parts to line up . . .
. . . . . . like so ------>>>
You know the rest of the whole temptation setup from Ricky Gervais, right?
Great, let's proceed.
Well, after God bounces the parents of humankind from the Garden, just all kinds of shit breaks loose -- brothers killing brothers, angels sleeping with humans, human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together - mass hysteria.
God gets disgusted with all the shit-breaking-looseness and destroys all life with a flood except for this one guy and his family and a shit-load of breeding pairs of animals which get packed in a big boat -- something about this size, if we have our cubits right:
Peachy.
Except, when this dude gets off his boat (after five months of animal poo and too much quality time with his family) the first thing he does is get stinking drunk and passes out butt-naked in his tent, and one of his sons sees his dangly bits, and there's this whole scene where NoahLushyExhibitionist curses his son's son into servitude.
Even though the son's son wasn't involved in the whole Daddy-I-Saw-Your-'Nads thing.
And that's why God meant for black people to be slaves.
Keep up, will you? We're not even half-done.
Despite God's best efforts to wipe out wickedness, the wickedness just keeps coming, (although God does seem to be able to "look the other way" in certain cases which I'm not going to go into at great length -- Abram *cough*liar, pimp*cough*).
However, there is this one story, which I will include because
Lot and His Daughters
The story of Sodom and Gommorah ("I rained down sulfur, man, there's a subtle difference"), and Lot's Wife Turning into a Pillar of Salt ("We were out of salt! You know I love the salt!"), are the stuff of publicist's wet-dreams -- the story just after? Not so much.
Which is why you probably didn't hear about it during Sunday School.
Sodom and Gommorah is a smoking ruin, and Lot has miraculously escaped with his two daughters (his disobedient, fully-salinated wife and his disbelieving, dude-you-so-funny! sons-in-law have been, unfortunately, destroyed utterly) and he is living in a cave in the mountains.
His daughters, charmingly called simply "Eldest" and "Youngest" (probably in keeping with their mom's family tradition of not actually needing a name as long as you've got a man), look around and cannot see any men anywhere, so they go all Spring Break on daddy's ass -- thusly:
| Genesis 19:30-38 | |
| 30 Lot mooved to mountains cuz he scared of Zoar (and smelled like old fart) n lived in a kave. | 30 Lot and his two daughters left Zoar and settled in the mountains, for he was afraid to stay in Zoar. He and his two daughters lived in a cave. |
| 31 Older dauter sez to younger dauter, "Old father is Old and I R in heat. | 31 One day the older daughter said to the younger, "Our father is old, and there is no man around here to lie with us, as is the custom all over the earth. |
| 32 I get daddy drunk and do PENIS GOES WHERE?! So we can save our recessive genes." | 32 Let's get our father to drink wine and then lie with him and preserve our family line through our father." |
| 33 That night they giv daddy winez and /b. Daddy drink winez to make imagez go away and older daughter do PENIS GOES WHERE?!. /b so bad daddy knot remember. | 33 That night they got their father to drink wine, and the older daughter went in and lay with him. He was not aware of it when she lay down or when she got up. |
| 34 neXt day, older daughter say "I do buttsecKs wif daddy, now ur turn" | 34 The next day the older daughter said to the younger, "Last night I lay with my father. Let's get him to drink wine again tonight, and you go in and lie with him so we can preserve our family line through our father." |
| 35 /b nasty again so Lot drinkZORS to stuporz and younger daughter doez PENIS GOES WHERE?! | 35 So they got their father to drink wine that night also, and the younger daughter went and lay with him. Again he was not aware of it when she lay down or when she got up. |
| 36 Boaf gurlz get preggerz from daddy. | 36 So both of Lot's daughters became pregnant by their father. |
| 37 Older daughter plop out boy named Moab, He be Father of Moabates and Mother of all bombs (and smell like desert - recessives) | 37 The older daughter had a son, and she named him Moab; he is the father of the Moabites of today. |
| 38 Lettle daughter plop out boy called Ben-(ken)Ammi who be father of (ken)Amminoites today n sing gud. | 38 The younger daughter also had a son, and she named him Ben-Ammi ; he is the father of the Ammonites of today. |
Nice.
Incest, passed-out drunken sex which is all the fault of the women who perpetrate this on a poor man who has no idea that he's having sex, twice (to be fair, it was the "Golden Age" -- maybe penises and vast quantities of alcohol interacted differently back then), nameless women serving as incubators so that -- horrors! -- a man's "seed" will not die out, and the extra-added dominionist goodness of -- nation-building! -- all neatly packaged in eight short verses (and all this time I was wondering what part of the Bible the Xtians get their "family values" from).
With all this fucking and boozing going on, it's no wonder God had to come up with the Big Ten, to get these stiff-necked assholes to behave.
So, this will be the last installment of my National Bible Week Series. At midnight tonight, it will all be over -- Thank Ceiling Cat.
In closing, I'll just say this: Know Your Bible!!!! It can tell you all sorts of useful things about the Xtianist movement that would like to convert our nation into a theocracy.
Since we started with Genesis 1, let's end at the end:
| Revelations 22-10:21 |
| 10 Then ayngel says "this profissy, it all come true, here it comez, any second now, not long to wait, very soon" |
| 11 "let evil kittehs be evilz, let skanky kittehs be skankz, left left-handed kittehs be lefteez, let good kittehs be good" |
| 12 Jesus sayz "incomingz!" (reelly dis time) |
| 13 "I is First and Last and Always" (goff kittehs lov dis bit) |
| 14 "Blessed are kittehs wot had a baff" |
| 15 "Magic dogs are outside! Run awayz!" |
| 16 Ceiling cat's kitteh is shiny. |
| 17 Uthirst? MAGIC TOILET! |
| 18 Dis end ov book - No Moar! K? |
| 19 Teh Holiez Bibul am © Teh Ceiling Cat |
| 20 BRB |
| 21 Da graze of Lord Jesus be wit u kittehs. Fer rlz. kthxbai! |
I'd like to express my deepest appreciation to Zotnix and all the translators at Lolcatbible for making National Bible Week infinitely more enjoyable and fun for me.
Ai thnx Ceiling Cat fr dem. Aymen.
[cross-posted]
The Virtual Pub Is Open
Happy Friday, Shakers!
I thought we could all do with an early pub.
Who needs a drink? We've got Duff on tap.
And Shaker Thom is buying the first round!
The Troops Are Supported with a Tissue of Lies: An Ongoing Tale
I'm shocked—shocked, I tell you—that the government's official number of brain-injured veterans is total bullshit:
At least 20,000 U.S. troops who were not classified as wounded during combat in Iraq and Afghanistan have been found with signs of brain injuries, according to military and veterans records compiled by USA TODAY.Rep. Bill Pascrell, D-N.J., founder of the Congressional Brain Injury Task Force, says he is "wary that the number of brain-injured troops far exceeds the total number reported injured," and estimates that as many or more than "150,000 troops may have suffered head injuries in combat."
The data, provided by the Army, Navy and Department of Veterans Affairs, show that about five times as many troops sustained brain trauma as the 4,471 officially listed by the Pentagon through Sept. 30. These cases also are not reflected in the Pentagon's official tally of wounded, which stands at 30,327.
Why the discrepancy? Because soldiers whose injuries are discovered after they're sent home aren't included in the official casualty list.
But they're working on fixing it, natch. Aren't they always.
Happy Birthday, Deeky!
Happy Birthday to youuuuuuu!
Happy Birthday, Dear Deeeeeeeksterrrrrrr!
Happy Birthday to youuuuuuu!
This clown will kill you now.
Friday, the black
The last three years, I've delighted in posting some kind of anti-Black Friday screed on the day following Thanksgiving. Actually, last year saw me repeat the post from the year before. After all, the story never changes, and it's such a tempting target for ridicule. Traffic helicopters deployed on parking lot watch duty, local reporters braving the madding crowds before the sun rises, and the grave speculation on what it will mean for the national economy - which provides the rationalization for this shopping porn "coverage." It all blurs together: so many dollars potentially spent, so many discounts made available by desperate retailers, so very few days before Christmas. Joyous Noel, Cyber Monday, hurry, hurry. The story is always the same.
And it's here that I had planned to say that "one's attitude toward that story, however, is another matter." This was to be the thesis of this year's Black Friday post, a relaxed, sanguine acceptance of this fetish we've built around consumption. The problem with that thesis is that it's unfounded. In writing the initial paragraph, I found submerged antipathies welling up within me, antagonisms breaking the surface. The truth is, I am just as repulsed by the cult of Black Friday as I've ever been. Goddamn this mindless shopping zombieism, this worship of acquisition, and the soulless socioeconomic forces that drive us.
And here I was afraid that I had grown soft and accepting. How pleasant to find otherwise.
(Cross-posted.)
Another Day; Another Criminal Breach of Our Civil Rights
Federal officials are routinely asking courts to order cellphone companies to furnish real-time tracking data so they can pinpoint the whereabouts of drug traffickers, fugitives and other criminal suspects, according to judges and industry lawyers.I literally don't know what to say anymore.
In some cases, judges have granted the requests without requiring the government to demonstrate that there is probable cause to believe that a crime is taking place or that the inquiry will yield evidence of a crime. Privacy advocates fear such a practice may expose average Americans to a new level of government scrutiny of their daily lives.
Happy Mythologized Harvest Feast!
I guess somebody had to mention this. Let it be me.
Let's just put the day into perspective, shall we?
When I was a kid, every Thanksgiving, we did some kind of project in school which involved black and white construction paper and staplers to make "Pilgrim hats", and brown construction paper with multi-colored construction paper (and staplers) to make "Indian headbands". We were then indoctrinated with a feel-good story about how the "Pilgrims" and the "Indians" came together in a wonderful environment of sharing and good-will and ate turkey and punkin' pie.
Of course, this was almost completely 100% crap. Pilgrims didn't dress that way, and neither did the members of the Wampanoag tribe (that probably did share a feast with the white "settlers" in 1621 -- if you can trust white historians. Jus' sayin').
During my grade school years, there was absolutely no education in my public school about the genocide of original North American tribal peoples, or forced relocation, or forced schooling and fostering of tribal children to white institutions and families. None. Zip. Nada.
On one hand, I am glad that awareness has changed somewhat in my lifetime -- public school curriculum (in my town, at least) now includes at least some information about how this continent was appropriated by white people at a devastating cost to its original inhabitants.
On the other hand, I'm disheartened that this is the second image in a Google image search on "Thanksgiving" (please note presence of small, female tribal person at lower right -- doesn't she look happy? And tiny? And insignificant?):
I can almost hear her now, saying: "Gee, I'm really glad these white people aren't killing me (yet). Let's eat!"
Another thing I'd like to point out is that the phrase "this most American of holidays" has not only become inanely overused (Google it in quotes -- I dare you!), but is only remotely accurate to the extent that you consider "America" as a reference to a continent or two (as in North and South), rather than "America=USA".
People all over the world have celebrated their harvest season for thousands -- perhaps tens of thousands -- of years. Tribal groups on this continent had been celebrating the "Three Sisters" in prayer and thanks-giving during autumnal harvest gatherings long before white people arrived in the "Americas".
The Moon Festival has been celebrated in China for 3000 years or more, Sukkot is recorded as the first observance at Solomon's temple (approx. 955 B.C.E.), the earliest recorded celebrations of Onam are 800 AD, and indigenous tribal people all over the world have remembered to stop after the harvest and say: "Gee. This is great. Look at all this stuff we have! I'm grateful to (the earth/the gods/goddesses/ancestors/spirits/whatever) that I have all this. Let's eat a bunch of it right now! Then -- let's get drunk and dance! . . . . . After we have a nap."
Personally, I enjoy Thanksgiving more than most federal U.S. holidays -- no presents to buy, no patriotic fervor, no commemoration of wars fought, struggles waged, or lives lost. Its traditionally soporific menu and focus on gratitude fit well with the life I want to create for myself, and the world I want to help create and live in -- a world of peace and bounty for all.
However, I tend to think of Thanksgiving not as "this most American of all holidays", but "this most Human of all holidays".
Lest you think I would forget, in my tryptophan-induced semi-coma, that it is STILL National Bible Week -- I'm offering you my first stab at LOLCats Bible Translation:
| Hymn Of Purrrrrraise To Ceiling Cat -- Psalms 105: 1-4 | |
| 1 Oh hai! - giv Cieling Cat teh bg prrrrrrrrrrrrr; yel "Ceiling Cat?" rlly lowd: tel othr kittehs (mybe puppeez tu) whut him haz dided. | 1O give thanks unto the LORD; call upon his name: make known his deeds among the people. |
| 2 Maek teh noizy mew at him, mybe maek up teh fnny song tu, k?: tel bout teh tiem he maek teh gushy coem out frm frigratr an oter majik stuf him canz du. | 2Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him: talk ye of all his wondrous works. |
| 3 Rll arown liek hiz naem iz yr ctnipz: beez hppy win yu lookz arown tu seez Cieling Cat. | 3Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of them rejoice that seek the LORD. |
| 4 Go arown teh hole howz liek yu crzy cuz yu no canz find favrit toyz -- yu lookz arown to seez Cieling Cat, an teh mussels uv him, tu (hintz: dOOd! lookz up! him iz prbly in cieling -- yu lookz fr whskerz uv him -- RITE NOW! -- all teh tiem -- SRSLY!) | 4Seek the LORD, and his strength: seek his face evermore. |
I realize that East-Coasters and Mid-Westers will read this entry after "Thanksgiving" is past. For me, however, the night is young and dinner is finally settled enough that I can haz pie.
[cross-posted]
Shaker holiday traditions
Happy Thanksgiving for all those who celebrate! We hope you all have a wonderful and safe (and drama free!) holiday. Here are a collection of holiday traditions and memories, Thanksgiving and otherwise, that are a part of our lives. Please do share yours in comments!
Shark-Fu
My sister and I bake sweet potato pies while watching All the President's Men the night before.
I always screen Ordinary People while hooking up the turkey in the morning to guarantee a good pre-socialization/family confrontation cry.
And at some point during Thanksgiving Day we screen Network while tossing back vodka crans.
Ahhh, holiday memories...
Nightshift
From my childhood, my family had no rituals at all about the specific day. Dad always went hunting on T-Day and C-Day. While my brother and I were in service, we celebrated each whenever we got home on leave, anywhere from October to January.
Now, my wife has created some rituals. T-Day is here, with anywhere from 20 to 40 family, in-laws, outlaws, and friends, and enough food for 70. We bring in folding chairs and tables to fit in everyone, and it's a house party. There's always the Thansgiving prayer, which I no longer say. (After 3 separate freudian slips of asking the Lord to "Bless this Nude," I retired from public praying!)
Christmas Day is more immediate family, but the night of the 25th we always go to my wife's aunt's house for a big dinner and present swap.
Mustang Bobby
When I was a kid growing up outside of Toledo, we had some relatives in the area, and we also belonged to a local tennis and social club that served as a gathering place for a group of families like ours and we often went there for holiday dinners; it relieved my mom from cooking one of the two big meals at the holidays; if we had Thanksgiving at home, then we went to the club or another relatives' place for Christmas, or vice versa. We also would have the Thanksgiving meal later in the day -- usually around the normal dinner time -- because we had season tickets to the Detroit Lions football team, and we would go up to Detroit to sit in the freezing cold bleachers to watch the Lions play their traditional Thanksgiving Day game, then come home to the dinner.
It's been a while since my family has gotten together for Thanksgiving. We've all moved on to different places and have our own families. It's beenmany years since my entire immediate family -- Mom, Dad, and my three siblings and their families -- were together for the occasion.
However, there was one Thanksgiving that I'll never forget: 1967. I was a freshman at St. George's, the boarding school in Newport, Rhode Island (and also alma mater of Howard Dean and Tucker Carlson). It was my first extended time away from home and I was miserable. My older brother and sister were also away at school; one in New Jersey, the other in Virginia. My parents made arrangements for us all to get together in New York City that weekend, and they booked rooms at the Plaza Hotel. We saw two Broadway musicals --"Mame" with Angela Lansbury and "Henry, Sweet Henry" with Don Ameche -- and a little musical in Greenwich Village called "Now Is The Time For All Good Men..." We went shopping in Greenwich Village, took hansom cab rides in Central Park, had lunch at Toots Shor's (and got Cab Calloway's autograph), dinner at Trader Vic's and Luchow's, and saw all the sights that a kid from Ohio on his second trip to NYC (the first being the World's Fair in 1964) could pack into one four-day weekend. Oh, and we had the big Thanksgiving dinner in the Oak Room at the Plaza with all the trimmings.
It was a magical weekend; to this day I still remember the sights and sounds and sensations, and the deep sadness that settled back over me as I boarded the chartered bus that took me back to the dank purgatory of that endless winter at school overlooking the grey AtlanticOcean.
PortlyDyke
My mother is Swedish, and our Christmas celebrations ALWAYS included Lutefisk (which I detest), Potatis Korv (potato sausage), Pickled Herring (which I adore), Glögg , and Ostkaka.
Ostkaka (literally "cheese cake") and Glögg are the only traditions I maintain yearly, but with good reason.
Glögg (spiced wine and port with aqua vite or vodka added) will kick your ass, and Ostkaka (aka "Heart Attack in a Bowl") is the most divine partner a lingonberry ever had. (Recipe below)
At holiday gatherings at my house, there was ALWAYS at least one jigsaw puzzle in process, one or two games of "Pitch" after dinner, and usually, when we were younger, scufflings heard outside and a red coat glimpsed fleetingly through the window on Christmas Eve --a visit from "Tomte" (if one of my uncles or older brothers were willing to play the part that year).
Glögg
recipe!.OSTKAKA
1 gallon milk (lukewarm)
2 tablets rennet dissolved in warm water-104 degrees
(1 tablet if whole, raw milk is used)
Mix together 1 c flour and 1c milk. Add to warm milk. Add rennet.
Cover and let stand for 20-25 minutes. Drain whey.
Add 2c milk (or half & half)
1 ¼ c sugar
Pinch of salt
4 eggs, beaten
1 pint cream
1 ½ teaspoon vanilla
Place dish in a pan of hot water at least 1 inch deep.
Bake 1 ½ hours at 325 or until top is lightly brown and center is firm.
Top with thickened lingonberry or blueberry sauce (add whipped cream
on top for extra sinfulness)
Misty
It took a while for us to settle on a tradition for our solstice celebration that really fit us but we finally came up with one in the last couple years.
After dinner on solstice night, we all stay around the table. I bake the yule log (not quite a traditional one but it works well for us) earlier in the day. We place it on a platter in the center of the table and light three candles in it. We talk about the meaning of the day and how the light was coming back, etc... Then, while holding hands, we each speak a wish/good thought for our family and the world-at-large. Then we blow out the candles and sit in silence--in total darkness--for a moment. Then we each eat a piece of the yule log (lights back on! lol). It's very bonding and the kids really enjoy it too.
As I said in the begining of the post, please share your traditions!
November 22, 1963
John Fitzgerald Kennedy
May 29, 1917 - November 22, 1963
January 20, 1961
Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice President Nixon, President Truman, Reverend Clergy, fellow citizens:
We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom -- symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning -- signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe -- the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans -- born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage, and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge -- and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided there is little we can do -- for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom -- and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those people in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required -- not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge: to convert our good words into good deeds, in a new alliance for progress, to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support -- to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective, to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak, and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course -- both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew -- remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms, and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed, in all corners of the earth, the command of Isaiah -- to "undo the heavy burdens, and [to] let the oppressed go free."
And, if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor -- not a new balance of power, but a new world of law -- where the strong are just, and the weak secure, and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days; nor in the life of this Administration; nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again -- not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need -- not as a call to battle, though embattled we are -- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation," a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility -- I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it. And the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
Project Runway Open Thread
Question of the Day
We've done this one before, though not since Oct. '05, and since it's always fun, and appropriate this evening given the post below, it seems time to do it again: What would you choose as the theme song for Shakesville?
