Money for nothing, and the chicks for free...

This is pathetic; this is the first time since I've been in elementary school that I've had to borrow money off my parents to go out... Next time, I should really plan my billing cycles a little bit more appropriately...

FFT

To All But God

When you see me you see only a fat Indian
an ugly woman
a too young mother
a shabby dresser
When you hear me you hear only a toothy lisp
a faltering memory, a too talkative loner, a frustrated yell
If you delve a little deeper you'll find
poor health - a drain to health care
two kids - a drain on welfare
mental illness - a drain to the sane

You'll never know the beautiful child
who loved to dress up as a princess
or the dynamic grad speaker
who had the crow on its feet
or the vibrant bride full of hope for a lifelong partner in love
To you I remain pitiful, worthless, unloveable - to all but God

You think I don't see your arrogant sneer
don't hear your hostile snicker
as I lug groceries and kids and my swollen body
on buses, through malls, across busy streets
I keep my eyes down but my head up
I turn stone deaf to the jagged slurs
I choke back a tear and keep my mouth shut.
Now my pain becomes visceral
It cannot be hidden
So I dance like St. Vitas and draw more stares still
I'm reminded of how I must seem
how pathetic, how odd
I can't prove my beauty -
to any but God.

-Heather Slade

Loving welling from deep in my bones/soul

So, yet again, one who is rapidly becoming one of my more favoured friend-speakers, totally gob-smacked me with another one (OK, admittedly, he's only done it twice, but that's still two for two). The idea that my belly, my appetites and my desires can actually be used for glory? That it's not all evil in(carn)ate? That faith is holistic and holy, that it involves one's whole being, from head to toe, and EVERYTHING else in between... for some reason, he wanted me to mention his name here... which I thought was kind of silly; obviously, he has no idea how miniscule this blog's audience is.... :)

Little waves on the seashore guided by the irresistible ocean's heart

I had just heard the most refreshingly honest account of a 'returnee' home for the year. I find it quite odd how most returnees talk about how they move from strength to strength to strength (to strength to strength), never wavering, never faltering, never having any major doubts or troubles, except for maybe a bit of physical illness, or a bit of physical hardship. It's like we don't allow ourselves to fail, to doubt, to question.
I realized that this 'oddness factor' is partly because I no longer buy the modern model. It doesn't suffice for me anymore, marching out, sword in hand, assuming assured victory. Maybe the victory is not for us to win (wait; this is actually true - it is NOT ours to win). Maybe it's not a battlefield. Maybe we should be thinking of nuturing and growing and mulching - agricultural metaphors, not those of war and of violence. War and violence assumes there's a winner and a loser. Agriculture works with what one's got, and sometimes you get a bumper crop, and sometimes you lose everything, but at least you haven't destroyed everything in your path along the way. Yes, this is vaguely feminist thought. Yes, it may not correlate exactly with the imagery that we've been given in the good book, but it is more whole, more honest, and more in tune with what we know is good and beautiful in this world. But if not, then we assume if the returnee is not moving onward and outward, then they must be LOSING the battle. This isn't right thinking.

What do I know? I wear a conical straw hat...

I was just at a dinner celebrating the achievements of one of the largest charity groups in Toronto, if not in the country. It was a mix of agency workers, corporate representatives, and regular people like me. What I found fascinating was how many of the award presenters, as well as award receivers, were white people. Fascinating, in that this charity's work mainly benefits the ethnic majorities of the city, not the WASPs.
That dynamic has always intrigued me, the balance of the benevolent white folk helping out all the other coloured people, and how this still occurs, even into the 21st century. Of course, it is totally not under your control as to what ethnicity you are born, however, we do know that race plays a huge part into which socio-economic class you will tend to belong to, as well as what your particular prospects in life will be, as well as to how giving (or not) you are to the community at large (rather than just your particular ethnic enclave).
It was an interesting, though brief, discussion we had in the car on the way home about why that dynamic still exists, why people of colour remain the recipents of the generosity of the white people, for the most part, and how we long and dream to see that far, far away day when that dynamic might be reversed, and equalized...

FFT

The end cannot justify the means by the simple and obvious reason that the means employed determine the nature of the ends obtained.
-Aldous Huxley

FFT

The function of the artist is to provide what life does not.
- Tom Robbins

FFT

The cow became the sacred symbol to the Hindu because it gave milk and chops and hides. It nourished the babies and kept the old folks warm. Because it provided so many good and life-supporting things, it was regarded as an embodiment of the Universal Mother, hence holy. Then it occurred to some monk or other, some abstract scholarly kook, as you would say, that gee, folks, since the cow is holy we maybe shouldn't be eating it and robbing its udder. So now the Hindu has got sacred cows up to here but no more milk and steaks. They starve in plain view of holy herds so big only Hopalong Cassidy could stop them if they took a notion to stampede. The spiritual man's beef against beef is the result of a classic distortion. It's another case of lost origins and inverted values.
- Tom Robbins

I will heap burning coals on your head....

What surprised me recently was realizing that you can still be civil, even witty, with people you really dislike. I didn't think that was possible. I think I am struck by the notion of Asians having a deep need to 'keep harmony', or at least the semblance of it, above any sort of snufflings of conflict. That the notion of 'face', above everything else, reigns supreme, so that the whole group may move in the presumption that all is well on the surface, but just underneath the ripples lie turmoil and seething emotion. Of course, I was well aware of the fact that you MUST be civil with everyone (as an Asian), even if you hate their guts (as well as all the other bits of their bodies besides their intestines). What I found flabbergasting was that you could even joke and have witty repartée with one's so-called 'enemies'. Is this what 'heaping burning coals on their heads' is supposed to look like? Something tells me not...

You want me to go watch I Am Legend????

I must confess, I cannot understand people who can only function within the dimensions of their career and their house. That is to say, can only concern themselves about the very base and ignoble functions of life, and think little, if at all, about larger societal and global issues. To wit: I was recently having a discussion about our First Nations people with some friends, and (though this is a bit patronizing, as we had no aboriginal people among us) discussing how do we get involved, how are institutional structures preventing us from seeing justice done, and what kinds of barriers do we see in accomplishing such goals. In contrast, simultaneously in another part of the city, a friend of mine was stuck in a conversation about Jamie-Lynn and other celebrity tripe (oh heavens!).
It has always been a grave annoyance to me, if not downright aggravation, in trying to have people in the latter group start to think outside of the tiny cultural blinkers one has been given. It makes me wonder whether people really enjoy having their nose stuck to the grindstone, you know, that whole saying that you could be so engrossed in concentrating on your little furrow of dirt in the ground, that you miss seeing the stars in the heavens....