Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Rhyme with psycho whore from south of hell
Cuz of all the crap you put me through back then
Oh if only your mom and dad
Had named you something that rhymed with “walking talking maxipad”
Think of all the clever tunes I could have penned
Cuz Becky rhymes with yecky
And Missy rhymes with pissy
And Susie rhymes with floozie
And Patty rhymes with fatty
Elizabeth rhymes with kiss-of-death
And Eleanor rhymes with smelly whore
And Marigold rhymes with hairy-holed
And Lauren rhymes with scorin’
Celia Linda Park rhymes with “Feel ya in the dark”
Daisy Rhoda York rhymes with “Easy ho ta pork”
Rhonda Lynn Mae Stutback rhymes with “Fondlin’ my buttcrack”
I’d pay you to change your name to Shelly Hunt"
I have been stunned over the years of teaching to hear the following comments made about black individuals BY black individuals:
In college- "You gonna be RA? Maybe of the ghetto." Said mockingly of a young African-American girl who aspired to be the residential assistant on the freshman floor at the dorms. The bully laughed at her every time she raised her hand to answer a question in class and said she was trying too hard to be "white". The girl passed, the bully didn't.
In a junior high school- "He not cute, he too black."
Also in a JH- "The light skinneded girls are pretty. You is a monkey." A dark skinned girl I taught was mocked frequently by a lighter skinned peer. I frequently hear students refer to each other as monkeys. Oh and the additional 'ed' in "skinneded" is intentional.
In high school- "She tryin' to sound white, like she better than us." Said of an African-American female I worked with one year.
Also in HS- "Why Ms. So-and-So act so white all the time? She always pickin' on me."
Also in HS- "He retarded. They shouldn't let black people teach, they stupid. We black and he should help us, let us do what we want, let us play around." Said YESTERDAY about an African-American teacher who runs a very tight ship and teaches quite well.
When I first began teaching here in the States, I told students who said such things that I would not tolerate racist comments in my presence and that I can't believe people would say such things about their own race. Leaving out the whole calling-each-other-the-n-word thing, I was surprised they would perpetuate something their grandparents had fought so hard to rid themselves of. Oh, but it's not racism, apparently they can say that about each other- they laugh in response. I asked one of our recent previous bosses once, an African-American man, what should I do? How should I respond to this? He laughed and didn't really have an answer. I like the boss I have right now much better.
It is so damaging to hear any sort of bullying, let alone a form whose sole intention is to make a child feel ashamed of his/her African-American heritage. I continue to tell them to stop, and I continue to get the laughing in response, but at least I let the bullied student know that I won't stand for that kind of crap, that I will stand up for him/her and that I believe them capable of what others may not.
Monday, February 26, 2007
The Kite Runner presents the memories of a man who grew up in Kabul and turned 18 at the onset of the Russian invasion. Fleeing the country with his father, he leaves many ghostly memories behind but when they continue to haunt him in his new life in San Fransisco, he is forced to face them.
Highly sentimental (and not in a bad way), Hosseini weaves the delicious tangible, edible, olfactory, and audible strands into a tapestry backdrop and it made me wonder how many of these memories actually belonged to the author and not just his protagnist.
While it seemed to depict one disaster after another, and he presents such finality with the use of phrases along the lines of "It would be the last time...", "...I'd never see him again", "...it would be the last..." it came across as less nihilistic than The Swallows of Kabul. I wondered how much more I would learn about life in Afghanistan and I was fascinated to learn about the words in their language that were related to words I am familiar with in the Arabic language. I'm into language in that respect.
In reality, I have a little Austrian in me (that's what she said), and I have no bone to pick with Germans, but obviously my dream was inspired by historical events, though purity wasn't an issue.
As someone who has never really felt part of one specific group, it was unpleasant to feel actively excluded from such a large one. I'm so lucky that I usually get to surround myself with such an amalgamation of various races, religions, and personality types that I always feel a part of something. As a child, I was pushed into so many molds into which I just didn't fit and was even fed the kind of lessons of superiority that I thankfully had enough sense to ignore.
Because we all know the real truth, don't we? If it's not Scottish, it's CRAP.
Friday, February 23, 2007
***TESTIMONIALS from satisfied "Bullshit Bingo" players***
a) Bringing a smile to your face.
b) Encourage you to buy his albums so he can feed his starving child.
From his song "I'm Gonna Procreate"
"I’ve gotten the impression, since I was in preschool
That some people are opposed to my wading in the gene pool
They’ve mostly been subtle hints, but it sure raised my suspicions
When 300 protestors showed up on my lawn and showed me their signed petitions"
By Tim Crist (Aka Shoebox)
Thursday, February 22, 2007
"The authorities say they are investigating. "
Um. The same authorities who condone the sodomy and torture of prisoners/suspects and even sentence the abused to serve a sentence for "resisting authority"? Well, thank fuck for that. And I was afraid they wouldn't address this atrocity seriously.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
In college, I had to take a philosophy class and so picked "The Philosophy Of Art". For my assignment, I had to compare two pieces of related art, so I choice the instrumental and the Sarah McLachlan's versions and did a fairly cool presentation, if I do say so myself, sharing the story of the string of suicides, dubbing it the "Hungarian Suicide Song"; how Billie Holiday's version had to have a sappy, happy addition made to it before the radio station would permit its airing in the era of America's climb out of the Depression onto the stage of World War II.
While my Sunday wasn't the least bit gloomy beyond the snowy skies overhead, I thought I'd share my rather Gothic interest in creepy stories!
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Sweet Student: I dunno. Man, how am I going to remember that one?
TeacherLady: It means 'a steep cliff'. Um. Okay. I know this sounds dreadful, but you know how the last syllable sounds like 'piss'? Imagine a guy is peeing over the edge of this steep cliff.
I saw her eyes dart towards the door over my shoulder. I KNEW someone was there, but I had started my point and I was going to finish it! Her eyes looked back at me. The person must have left after hearing me talk about pissing off of cliffs. I had to keep things rolling.
Sweet Student: A steep cliff!
TeacherLady: I bet someone was just looking at me really weirdly and wondering why I'm talking about urination with a student, right?
Sweet Student: (Nodding). Uhu. Yup.
I found out who it was an explained myself. Thankfully he seems to be cool with it, but my cheeks are going to feel hot every time I see him now! Too bad he's in the class right next door!
By the way... She aced her vocabulary quiz.
Invasion. (...Of the Body Snatchers. They're remaking it again.)
I guess we should be grateful they didn't shorten Gone With The Wind to just Wind.
There's probably more, but I don't want to lose my breakfast thinking about them.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
It's been weird not going to work for the past few days because of snow. I'd rather have my snow days spread out since we only get so many before they have to start extending the school year into the summer. Growing up in the Middle East, we had "rain days" when the inadequate drainage of the school building meant the place was flooded for a while. I feel bad for today's kids because I understand improvements have been made so that doesn't happen anymore.
*** Possible Spoiler for The Purple Rose of Cairo ***
Since my husband was working today, I watched The Purple Rose of Cairo which has been sitting on my TiVo forever. Perhaps if I'd known it was about the fact that wish fulfillment is but a dream and escapism is only as long as reality permits, I may not have chosen to watch it on a day that's supposed to inspire romance, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It struck me as a movie that would be just as good as a short since the message was pretty to the point and the subplots were more like cardboard cutouts set in the background to add a little more depth. I must admit, it reminded me of the fantasy I used to have about some intense, charismatic, witty, intelligent guy staring longingly at me across a crowded room and falling instantly in love with me before he even knew my name... However, he doesn't go on to do that thing all guys in movies in the thirties and forties did to their women- grab me by the shoulders and shake me saying something along the lines of "I love ya, I tell you, I didn't wanna... You hear me? I LOVE ya!" then mash his mouth against mine at the risk of knocking my teeth out, slipping a disk in my back, and crushing my skull in his grip. Yeah. I'm funny like that.
I'm still occasionally adding movies to my list, so feel free to make recommendations/suggestions/comments.
May the night bring you dreams of romance.
Monday, February 12, 2007
However, I think it's perfectly acceptable to embrace the positive aspects of a religion with the intention of improving oneself as a human being, a productive member of society, and a contributor to the development of humanity as a whole.
On the other hand, if your religion has beliefs that you find archaic, describe them as such rather than shrug or get defensive to the point of blindness. You can't pretend that certain passages and quotes don't exist and that certain crimes against humanity aren't carried out under the guise of religious doctrines.
This article may offend if you are not willing to accept that people sometimes do shitty things in the name of Allah, and almost as bad, that other people ignore it or claim it's bigotry to expose these points to the world. Don't get me wrong, on the other side of the fence you've got "God Hates Fags" freaks who commit enormous acts of stupidity in the name of their beliefs, so I'm not just limiting my complaints to Muslim fundamentalists alone (emphasis on the third and fourth syllables of "fundamentalists").
If people would be more willing to accept the truth that all humanity is flawed, fewer would adopt the holier-than-thou attitude that only ever leads of death and destruction.
I love the captions to the photos these guys have on this website.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Apparently this has been done in North America too, San Fransisco, Vancouver and even outside the American Idol auditions. Maybe it's time for the undead to walk YOUR streets!
Thursday, February 08, 2007
I guess we should be thankful she didn't ask the author of the play to be stoned to death for being a harlot.
About half the population of the world should thus be ashamed at their possession of such a beastly anatomical feature and should promptly whip themselves, bathe in bleach, and beg forgiveness for owning a dreaded "hoohaa".
While I have NEVER used hormones as an excuse for being a bitch in the past, I will now.
Having been a co-producer in the creation of a beautiful little person and having breast-fed that perfect little person for 6 months, mine are fluctuating like you wouldn't believe. I figured going back on the Pill would level things out. WRONG! The most stupid things can move me to tears and I've caught myself staring off, feeling... Well... Not much of anything at all. However, I now know why the Pill is effective in its primary purpose of preventing conception... It can reduce a woman's sex drive to that of castrated monk with no interests beyond that of building model airplanes.
It's now that I understand what my ADHD students mean when they say that their medications make them feel "not like myself". I feel guilty for all the times I thought "Well, the meds do what they're supposed to do, they're a success, so why fight them?" Thankfully, I never said anything like that out loud. I hate not feeling like myself, and I know my husband certainly hates it too! We both miss that naughty, naughty girl and hopefully, when a new option comes along, we will celebrate her return someday. With a spanking.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Monday, February 05, 2007
Sunday, February 04, 2007
I now see the irony when my students keep asking me where all my candy is for them to stuff their faces with and I reply "Geez, you moochers, go get your own! I'm paving your bright and shiny futures of success after success!"
No one likes a hypocrite.
Friday, February 02, 2007
A student brought this is and I had to ask his mother for the recipe. Note: It's better with the nuts because that adds much-needed texture to it. Also note that this does make three pans-worth of the stuff.
3 ½ CUPS ALL-PURPOSE FLOUR
1 CUP VEGETABLE OIL
3 CUPS SUGAR
2/3 CUP WATER
2 TEASPOONS BAKING SODA
1 ½ TEASPOON SALT
2 CUPS PEANUT BUTTER CHIPS
1 TEASPOON CINNAMON
1 CUP CHOPPED NUTS (OPTIONAL)
2 CUPS CANNED PUMPKIN
1 CUP RAISINS (OPTIONAL)
IN MEDIUM MIXING BOWL, COMBINE FLOUR, SUGAR, BAKING SODA, SALT, AND CINNAMON. SET ASIDE. IN LARGE MIXING BOWL, BLEND PUMPKIN, OIL, WATER, AND EGGS. GRADUALLY ADD DRY INGREDIENTS UNTIL WELL BLENDED. STIR IN PEANUT BUTTER CHIPS, NUTS, AND RAISINS. POUR INTO 3 GREASED AND FLOURED (OR SPRAYED) LOAF PANS. BAKE AT 350 FOR 50-60 MINUTES. COOL IN PANS FOR 10 MINUTES. REMOVE FROM PANS AND COOL COMPLETELY.
NOTES: GREAT WARM SPREAD WITH BUTTER.
SOME PEOPLE LIKE CREAM CHEESE ON IT.
Person on other end of the line: Hello?
Math teacher: Hello. This is Math Teacher calling from So-and-So High school, may I speak to Not-Too-Bright's mother, please?
Person: Uh. She's not here right now.
Math teacher: Oh. Who is this?
Person/Obviously Not-Too-Bright himself: Uncle.
Math teacher: I'm sorry, who?
Not-Too-Bright: Uncle. Uncle.
Math teacher: Who? Whose uncle?
Not-Too-Bright: MY uncle.
Realization dawns, and Not-Too-Bright hangs up.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Teacher: What do you call the people who lived along the railways during the depression?
Teacher: Uh. That would be hobos.
I recall my arrival to the States less than a decade ago. Someone referred to something as being "gay", and while I understood the word to either be an outdated term for happiness, or for current day homosexuality, I had never heard it used in this context before.
TeacherLady: Does that mean it was good or bad?
College roomie: Uh. It means bad.
TeacherLady: That's a shame.