Demockery for All!

... or why women and blacks should not be allowed to vote.

Yes, children: it’s that time again when Uncle Skajlab resorts to name-calling and racist comments in order to make a point about politics in the good ol’ US of the A-hole. Today in the great state of Texas was the run-off election for candidates who did not receive a majority of votes during the primary. I waited until 1:00pm to cast my vote, knowing full well what I was about to find out anyway: nobody fucking bothered to show-up! I was the eighth person at my polling station, which is in one of the largest Democratic districts in the Dallas area.

All those goddamned women and blacks who were all up in arms about ensuring their “own” candidate wasn’t going to get cheated out of a single vote just a month ago apparently couldn’t be bothered to ensure that the best candidate from the Democratic party was going to make the ballot come November. When it comes to declaring their own victimhood, they’re at the front of the line, but when it comes to actually participating in the political process, they are just too busy eating fried chicken or sloughing off another uterine lining.

Way to go, girls! It’s time to go back the “long way” you’ve already come, Baby. This angry, middle-aged, white Anglo-Saxon male is glad to do your job for you. Now get back in the kitchen and make me a grilled cheese!

And woe to you goddamned Obamanations who have shot your wad on the one time a “black” candidate ever made it this far. May it take another century before another Half-rican makes the ballot! (‘Cause you certainly don’t think a real black man would’ve made it this far, do you? You know you can’t run for President with a criminal record, right? I’m just saying….)

Finally, just let me say: you fucking useless “Democratic” fucks deserve another eight-year Bush administration.

Fidelidad

Just let me say amid the shouts of self-congratulatory glee across DC and Miami today: the problem with Cuba has never been Fidel Castro. Cuba’s problem has never had anything to do with anything as embedded in Cuba as Comrade Fidel.

From its colonization under the repressive thumb of the Spanish Empire—may you and your conquistadores de terrorismo (todo en el nombre de Dios todopoderoso, por supuesto) rot in hell—Cuba and the inhabitants of Cuba have always gotten the short end of the stick, and the rotten end of hegemonic imperialism. And when Spain was finally banished, the US came riding in atop a brown horse named Little Texas, no less, to take charge, subjecting Cuba to de facto American rule for half a century.

Both corrupt American political parties have played along in the game of World Domination. From Kennedy’s Bay of Pigs fiasco (don’t worry, children: he got his just a few years later in Dallas) to Clinton’s signing of the Orwellian-named Cuban Liberty and Democratic Solidarity Act of 1996, Democrats have been just as thickheaded and insular as Republicans when it comes to dictating policy toward one of America’s closest neighbor-nations.

So on this glorious, sunny day in Havana, the “Cuban problem” still remains and will be around for quite some time, for as long as Americans keep electing imbeciles, for as long as crazy “refugees” in Miami keep dictating a bankrupt policy toward their homeland despite reasonable proposals over the past 50+ years, for as long as that pinche Dios todopoderoso sits on his shiny gold throne puffing away on his El Rey del Mundo cigar.

Until then: ¡Viva la Revolución!

California Dreamin'

Just a week after returning to the States from Europe I had already had enough of Dallas and crap at the university.... Or at least I knew I was going to have already had enough, so Stephen organized a blissful weekend away to San Francisco (while I was still in Germany) since he and Kris were going to be there for work. And Jola is there.... So many wonderful people I care so deeply about in a wonderful city by the ocean. I read chapters in the U.S. history textbook for the class I TA for on the flight, so technically it was a working vacation.... Anyway, here are some of the photos of that most relaxing getaway (where gallons of coffee were drunk at Bazaar Cafe, we sat through an hour-long reflexology session, did qigong (as well as napped) in the sand on the beach, and ate incredibly delicious meals at ethnic restaurants throughout the city. I guess gluttony is yet another form of relaxation....).

Thanksgiving Thursday

A random selection of music to be thankful for:

• "Beaten Thursdays" by Prefuse 73
• "The Columbia" by Lackthereof
• "Elvis Cadillac" by Rickie Lee Jones
• "Four Three All India Radio" by Echo Other
• "In a State" by Mojib
• "Kitten Who Did Not Want To Give Up" by BrainStorm
• "Masca" by The Duke Spirit
• "North American Scum (Radio Edit)" by LCD Soundsystem
• "NYC" by Interpol
• "When Under Ether" by P.J. Harvey

Just thinking about the multitude of ghosts that haunt every Thanksgiving and the network of friends around the globe who have made this a special holiday: 44 years ago President Kennedy was killed just a couple of minutes drive from my home; 10 years ago Michael Hutchence was found dead; Sonia in Kumamoto and the apato I painted green with the windows closed--I don't think my brain cells have really fully recovered; Tak & family in Osaka with my first bottle of beaujolais; Jola & the girls in Warsaw with several other bottles...; Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade way back in 1986 and the crappy meal in the basement of the Empire State Bldg.; "In this fateful hour..." over and over; and now me alone with a stack of books and one painting by Redon to keep me company.

Visual Culture

After a relatively short run-through of the DMA this afternoon, I came up with the following six contenders for my project in Visual Culture. I'm really not ecstatic about any of them: I would much rather write about the work of someone I know a little bit about, like Anselm Kiefer or Magda Abakanowicz, but we've already been scolded for choosing only recent subjects (from the last 30 years). Since I have no interest in recreating the canon, I thought about either an Asian or pre-Columbian work, but I didn't find anything today that grabbed me. These six, despite being fairly canonical--hell, they're hanging in a Dallas museum!--caught my eye; plus I thought I'd be able to say something new and interesting about each of them, assuming that someone else hasn't already exhausted these works.

Thomas Wilmer Dewing's The Singer, 1924

Arthur Garfield Dove's Up the Alley, 1938

Edward Hicks' The Peaceable Kingdom, c. 1846-47

Max Liebermann's At the Swimming Hole, 1875-78

Odilon Redon's Initiation to Study - Two Young Ladies, c. 1905

Paul Serusier's Celtic Tale, 1894

Bullet-Point Friday

• I'm enjoying my trek through Daniel Weissbort's From Russian with Love, a book about his friendship(s) and (professional) relationship(s) with Joseph Brodsky, translation theory, Russian, literature, and death. It is everything that John Felstiner falls short of. Throughout Felstiner's work (specifically Translating Neruda and Paul Celan: Poet, Survivor, Jew), he steers the reader toward this totalizing conception of identity and poetry: he reads Neruda and Celan as if their names were always in capital letters, as if they were homogenized, monolithic, unified Cartesian subjects, as if his biographical/literary/psychological/physiological uncoverings and excavations had the final say on what their poetry was all about. Weissbort, on the other hand, speaks toward an actual and real person he met, befriended, and knew, and yet who escapes any insincere attempt toward totalization: was 'Joseph' a Jew, how much of a Jew was he, how does his translation of his own poetry speak the same as their Russian versions. 'Joseph' is always moving away, eliding Weissbort’s efforts to read him, his words, him through his words, his words in his (own) voice, his words in his Russian (or Russified English). Felstiner reminds me of why I stopped reading literature and poetry all those years ago; Weissbort makes me want to read everything Brodsky ever wrote (as well as everything Weissbort ever wrote).
• I have approximately 50 pounds of books about Mark Rothko I need to work through this weekend as I prepare for an in-class presentation on the Rothko Chapel next week.
• Tonight is First Friday at the Ft. Worth Modern. I thought I would take myself out for the evening to enjoy the new exhibit and then maybe a nice vegan meal at Spiral Diner. (I can’t wait for the Spiral Diner to open up in my neighborhood!)
• Tomorrow is already “full up to the neck”: German class from 10:00-12:00, a visit (during the Texas-OU game) to the Dallas Museum of Art to come up with a subject for my term paper, and then Lauren’s party in the evening celebrating the release of Superficial Flesh. Perhaps one of these days I’ll actually have some down time and do some pleasure reading or spend an afternoon just brushing my cats. Maybe December.

Bullet-Point Friday

• Insomnia - Since returning from Germany two weeks ago I haven't been able to sleep past 4:30 AM. Most days I'm awake before then. (I'm usually in bed by 10:00 PM every night.) I'm just about at the breaking point physically as well as mentally, especially when I have as much work to get done during my typical day-to-day as I do. I fear my philosophy course--the one I'm teaching downtown--is suffering because by the time 11:00 rolls around I'm yawning and ready for a nap. I have an appointment with my neurologists (sleep doctors) Tuesday morning. Hopefully they'll put me on some better medication.
• Next Friday I fly to San Francisco to hang out for a couple of days with the ever-lovely Pani J. I'm looking forward to the escape from Dallas--yes, even though I've only been here for two weeks! Even more, though, I'm excited about spending time with one of my absolute most favorite people in the world. Jola and I were neighbors in Warsaw for almost a year, and I know I wouldn't have been able to last that long in such a miserable city without her continual friendship, insight, and hilarity. Can't wait for those long chats over good coffee while staring out over the Bay.
• Tomorrow I begin the German language course at the Goethe Center. Am I ready to focus yet again on that language in an attempt to develop some sort of fluency and literacy after such a crappy experience this summer? Stay tuned to find out.
• Exercise - Will I ever return to my pre-Europe schedule of hitting the gym 4-5 times a week? I'm afraid that all the weight I lost while in Germany was just muscle mass. I miss the sweat. I miss the endorphins. Ah, sweet endorphins! Perhaps before the German class tomorrow I can make it to the Y for a quick 30-minute workout.
  

People Unclear

Over the past few days I've been completely surrounded by people unclear on the concept of how to be adult human beings. For example, when I dropped off my recycling Saturday morning, another man pulled up to drop off his recycling as well. The only problem was that he left his car running while he made several trips from his trunk to the bins. He probably would've done less harm to the world if he would've thrown everything out with the trash and left his car off and in the driveway. Never again will I be concerned that the 25-minute commute to the recycling plant is a waste.

Later that day, after we got out of the free showing of Todo sobre mi madre at the Latino Cultural Center's Pedro Almodóvar film festival, Crazy Bitch #1 started throwing soda cans out her car window as she was driving up North Central Expressway. We took her license and car model, and I'm happy to say this morning I passed that information on the Don't Mess with Texas office. My small vigilante work here is done. (But if someone would like to find out her address and slap the shit out of her, go nuts: 122 JVW (Texas) - Blue Kia Spectra.)

And speaking of nuts, what is going on in the world these days to produce a jock shortage?!?! I was in search of a jock for several days before I finally found one in my size. I wear large, and it's not that I'm a unique shape. Most sports/athletic shops didn't carry a single one; some carried only youth sizes; and a couple had only smalls or XXLs. What's a boy gotta do to get a jock around here? Thank you, Target for carrying the one single large jock in all of Dallas. Now restock so I can buy a second one.

Biomap

Since we'll be losing our home in the next few months, I've been thinking a lot about the places I've called home for the past (almost) 40 years. Here's a little map of where I hung my hat. I'll update it when I get more information organized or feel like expanding some of the stories ... which probably won't be for a while since we're leaving for Europe in 2 weeks. We'll fly to Frankfurt to meet up with our friends, then fly to Barcelona for a week before returning to Germany. Afterwards, Stephen comes homes and I settle in Marburg until the end of August. When I get back, we have the pleasure of finding a new home for the next 2 years ... because I swear on a stack of Bibles that I won't live in Texas after I finish the Ph.D.

Minority Report, or Little Frankie's Big Gay Dallas Election, Part 2

Here's the link if you want to see the anti-homo political promo promising a Starf*cks of one's own ... unless you take it up the ass.

As if living through the death of political culture in the United States wasn't enough, now we have access to the zombification of the citizenry through elections results based on a mere 12.85% of registered (not eligible) voters. Who are the real idiots: the 95,343 who mistakenly thought their vote would count, or the 646,782 who couldn't be bothered to spend the five minutes it took to cast a ballot in the runoff election even though at one point in their lives they had the initiative to fill out an entire voter registration card?

Oh, and the stupid fuck who "won," you may ask: his only concrete platform was the possibility of enjoying "a Starb*cks in your own neighborhood." You'd think that, considering this was "the most expensive mayoral race in Dallas history," wealthy retired businessman Tom Leppert would've come up with something a bit more insightful or necessary than overpriced burnt coffee. From early May to early June, Leppert raised $855,000 and spent about $1.1 million [source: Star-Telegram.com]. I wonder how much of that came from the Green She-Devil of Seattle....

One more minority report: why the fuck were all the black and Hispanic kids at the YMCA wearing David Neumann tee-shirts Saturday morning? Couldn't they find some other rich white Republican to support? And isn't there some sort of law about nonprofit organizations (such as the YMCA) not getting involved in political activities? I hope those damned campaign shirts come in handy when.... Yeah, I better just stop right there before I have my own Michael Richards moment.

When the revolution comes, make mine a venti soy latte. Peace out, mofo.

One Old Message, or Little Frankie's Big Gay Dallas Election

Yeah, this shit was left on my answering machine Saturday. My commentary is in brackets.

Hello. Crime, education & homosexuality are the three hot issues in the mayor’s race Saturday, June 16th. [Actually, the hottest issue of the Dallas mayoral election is to keep douche bag Tom Leppert out of City Hall.] Did you know that the crime rate in Ed Oakley’s city council district is eight times higher than the rest of the city? His district also has one of the highest dropout rates among residents. [The use of such statistics only obviates the real issue while revealing Leppert's "classist" (that is, elitist) and racist bent. I can only assume that if elected, he will tear down all bridges that connect downtown to the southern sector. (And yes, I meant that figuratively as well as literally.) His views on South Dallas/Oak Cliff are just as bent. Check out this website for a little background.] And the Dallas Morning News reported that Ed Oakley would be the first openly gay large-city mayor. [First off, that is non-issue, especially in this election. Secondly: 'bout fuggin' time, I says. Who cares that Ed's a big 'mo': he's experienced and has proven to be a leader, the kind of leader that this shithole town needs.]

We encourage your vote for Tom Leppert—a Christian, married, father of three children. [It's easy to get lost down the rabbit hole (not warren, but ass) of this "logic": "Christian" and "homosexual" are not mutually exclusive categories, as evidenced by the largest gay Christian church in the world sitting on the other side of town. I guess Tom ignores the north side as well.] For more information, go to www.isuckthedevilsteet.com. That’s www.isuckthedevilsteet.com. This call was paid for Heritage Alliance PAC. [Of course, some of the most revealing anagrams of "Heritage Alliance" include "Alienate Each Girl," "Ethical Reel Again," "Cheater Nag Ail Lie," and my two favorites: "Eager Anal Itch Lie" and "Anal Rage Lie Ethic". I don't know if this is important; I'm just saying.] Thanks, and have a great day.

I'm beginning to see the sense in firebombing telecommunication networks if not headquarters of fascist organizations. I mean for fuck's sake: I have paid to be put on do-not-call lists so I wouldn't be harassed by telemarketers but campaigners for Satan himself can still call and peddle their political shlock and version of salvation?!?! Instead of trekking down the stony path of a terrorist, I decided to merely blog my frustration. I hope you've enjoyed.

Oh, and if you're interested, you can call Heritage Alliance at 214.348-2220. Go nuts!