What's A Barbaro?

With little to do after some filing, I sat down to peruse the various news websites and see what's happening in my world today...

DEAD HORSE!!!! THE HORSE IS DEAD!!!! BARBARO, WINNER OF SOME VERY PRESTIGIOUS HORSE RACE WAS EUTHANIZED!!! THIS HORSE WAS SO TOTALLY EXPENSIVE AND NOW IT'S DEAD!!!

Scrolling marquis with voter opinion polls about Barbaro rushed across the screen: "93% of people polled think it was the best decision", "41% of people polled think horse racing is an outdated sport", "100% of people who took this poll must be seriously bored or something"

Don't get me wrong; I'm not surprised that people find an expensive dead horse more important than Ari Fleischer's testimony in the Scooter Libby case. I'm also not surprised the news companies will receive tons more hits for this story over three murders in an Iraqi village. Expensive horses don't die everyday. At least, not ones who won some Derby crown that made the gambling types tons of money. People paid tons of money for this horse, it won them tons of money and we should, like, totally care because it's way important because LOOK AT ALL THE MONEY!!!!!

In retrospect, I got what I asked for. That's what's important to "us" today. "We" want dead horse coverage. But I want more than that - I want a camera refreshing itself every 30 seconds positioned on Barbaro's rotting corpse. I need to see every fiber of his $2.5 million body being eaten by maggots. If I'm to be so interested as I should be, I want deliverance from the news companies! GIVE ME EVERY GRITTY DETAIL!!! THAT HORSE WAS LIKE SOOOOO EXPENSIVE!!!!

Thank god some more filing came in for me to do...

The Gospel According to Showgirls

Inspired by the spirit of Nomi Malone, I feel compelled to bring you a recently written passage as divinely inspired unto me. Peace and cum be with you.

From the Psalms of Nomi, Chapter 7:

The stripper pole is my shepherd, I shall not want.
It maketh me rub my vag and licketh its oily surface:
It leadeth me down to the stage and up to the rafters.
It restoreth my titties:
It leadeth me in paths of NOT SLUTTINESS for it's names' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of greasy men,
I will drink Cristal: for thy shining surface is with me:
Their rods and their staffs will penetrate me.
Thou preparest the stage before me in the presence of Cristal Connors;
Thou annointest my head with lube; my vag runneth over.

Surely fame and penetration will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in Versace at Cesar's Palace forever.

Amen.

Oh Em Gee - Part Deux

Last year, I posted about a conversation overheard in one of my classes. The post was to showcase an example of the bizarre rhetoric apparently making its way into the popular vernacular via MTV and AOL IM. Needless to say, I still haven't fully recovered and though I toss around "Double-U Tee Eff" occasionally, I am being sarcastic. I wish I could say the same about certain ditzy girls on campus.

Yesterday when I arrived in my other office (not the medical one), there was another student worker whose shift was not quite over. That being the case, I was relegated to the large bank of computers reserved for whichever student group or individuals desire to work on them. Silently logging on with a pile of papers next to me, I began to work.

Thirty-seven seconds later, a girl who I later found out was 21 sat next to me. "Oh em gee", she sighed, "so much work to do." Stifling my laughter and pretending not to hear her for fear of an embarrassing outburst, I stared intently at my spreadsheet. "Hey P", she said turning to me, "P did you get that TPS report done like I asked? Oh em gee I'm totally kidding. Have you ever seen that movie? You know, Office Space? This new office is totally like that place, huh?" Sincerely pleased with her attempt at sounding like Bill Lumberg, she awaited my response. Glancing around, I noticed that there were no cubicles, no obnoxious bosses, no irritating females answering the phone in a repetitive manner and no banking software to be updated. However, not wanting to indulge her and not wanting to get dragged into a conversation I had no intention of being interested in, I went for, "heh, yeah kinda" and returned my focus to the spreadsheet. She turned back to her computer and began serious work on her Myspace page. Thank god, I thought. She had read my dour response as coming from someone with too much work to do and not enough time to do it in.

"HOLLA!!", she yelled as she gave herself a high-5. "Check it out P! I got that room scheduled for the meeting!" (a process whose complicated and nuanced execution involves the two steps of emailing scheduling and asking if you can have the room or not). The taste of bile rose into my throat. "Sweet", I say with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever. "Oh em gee, you look sad", she pouted. "Nope, just have a lot on my plate", I returned with a half-smile. "HOLLA! Just made you smile!", this time holding up her hand for me to high-5. I would have felt like an ass if I left her hanging, so I lightly pat her open palm. "Yes, you do want to kill yourself right now", my brain interjected.

Thankfully, I was at that moment saved by the fact that the other student worker had finished and told me the front desk was free. Silently packing up my work, I began walking to my desk. "HOLLA at 'ya girl, P!", she yelled at my back across the office. I feel it necessary to mention, for reasons of cultural hilarity, that this chick is whiter than anyone I've ever seen. She has blond/white eyebrows for god's sake. Just thought you should know. HOLLA!!!

Paradigm Shift

I met with my thesis adviser yesterday. After thinking long and hard about my project over the winter break, I came to the conclusion that I couldn't pull it off. Not like I wanted to, anyway. I went into the meeting with a choice. I was going to tell her my frustration and if I walked out of there feeling as lost and confused as I went in, I wouldn't complete my honor's thesis. If, however, she led me in a different direction, or at least gave me some direction, I would reconsider.

I love my adviser (who, coincidentally, is also one of my professors this term).

After I explained my dilemma, she smiled a bit and said, "Patrick, professors take entire sabbaticals in order to complete a project like that". I lowered my head and said, "I know, but I have something I want to say, to contribute, and I just have no idea where to look for source material" (tried typing "queer theory" into the library's computer system and came up with 8,302 entries). Fortunately for me, she and I had already had a class together (last year's Intro to Feminism) and she knew what thinkers I had already studied. She recalled, "you liked Monique Wittig, right?" My head popped up, "I thought she was brilliant. A bit severe in prescriptive analysis, but brilliant none the less." She queried, "Have you studied Foucault?" I thought of the brief encounter I had with his explanation of power structures and said, "a little, but not to any great extent". She paused for a moment and said, "you know, to my knowledge, there has never been a dialogue between the two. They were contemporaries of one another and as Wittig was very politically engaged and offered radical changes, Foucault was more industrial in his approach, examining phenomena without ever offering a prescriptive analysis." My head started to spin. This was something I could do. This was something I would LOVE to do. She saw my excitement. "So, go ahead this week and pick up the three volumes of the History of Sexuality (Foucault) and get Wittig's The Straight Mind. Flip through them, pick out things you think would help and we'll meet next week."

And just like that, my faith in my thesis was renewed. I am going to do something new, something fresh. My project will be original and engaging. I'm working with one of the most rigorous professors in my department and she has my back all the way.

Oh em gee.

A Scathing Critique

After reading Bush's address to the nation three times now, I became more and more incensed with each passing word. I wasn't "flattered" that he apologized for his actions. I wasn't comforted by his plan which was supposed to be new but in fact was not. As the rage boiled in my head, I needed someone else to straighten out his labyrinth of rhetoric. I needed one who could remember and piece together his flip-flopping and delusional approach to governing a nation. That person is Keith Olbermann. Though much of the media have lost their spine, his voice is a welcome criticism of the worst president ever.

The full article is here. (My favorite quote: "Oceana has always been at war with East Asia...")

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

A New Year's Message

After ringing in the New Year with uproarious shenanegans, it is time I take stock of where 2006 went and what 2007 holds in store for me. Though I don't pretend to know what the New Year will bring (aside from completing my thesis and graduating), I do know that much can be gained from focusing on one's character and making tough changes.

It is my first day back at work today after a well-deserved week off. I usually have my ipod to drown out the noisy office, but I left it at home and was therefore subject to the low rumble of a busy staff. Working in a medical office brings me in touch with many different people from many different back rounds and lifestyles. Working with children and their parents is even more interesting, as I see the moms and dads dealing with the extreme duress of an impatient toddler. At the same time, I see the children coached, scolded, punished and sometimes hit for their misbehavior. I've learned to turn a careful ear to such behavior on the part of the parents, as the child's self-image is in full development. In listening to such interactions, I also learn a piece of how the parent thinks speaking to children should be carried out. Are they mean? Are they funny? Are they just exasperated at their 3-year old? While I know the snippets of conversation I pick up are far from concrete representations of the parent's character, I feel that in certain circumstances, my intuition is right on the money.

The office across the hall from mine was ripe with parental anger. The child, probably no more than 4 years old, was crying uncontrollably. She had not been seen quite yet, so I know the crying was not from the prick of a needle or a cold stethoscope (you'd be surprised the number of kids that cry from stethoscopes). The mother I could not see, but I would place her in her early 20s. "Shut up", she hissed at the toddler, "I said SHUT UP". I am used to hearing such phrases from parents, but there was a menacing tone behind it, one I'm sure the child had heard many times before. She continued, "do you see how mad you're making me? Do you see that when you cry you make mommy like this? Do you see how I have to talk to you? I don't want to talk to you like this, but you make it so I have to!" All of this was bolstered by other such phrases thrown in for flavoring. She was refusing to ask the child what was wrong, she was refusing to care, she was refusing to love, I thought. Then I centered myself. How rude of it is for me to make such judgments? How can I sit across the hall while she murmurs such things under her breath and think I've got her and her relationship with her child figured out to even the smallest degree? Then I heard her say, "mommy can't love you when you cry like this. Is that what you want? Do you want mommy to stop loving you??"

I nearly fell apart. I rushed to the bathroom and pretended not to cry in the stall. I held my face tight and let the tears gush down my cheeks. This is how my new year is going to begin?, I thought. After calming myself, I took a long walk back to my office to ponder what had just happened. I was crying for that child. I was overcome with grief that his mother would continue to speak to her in such a manner, long after the office visit was complete. This was exactly what I needed to hear and feel at the start of my new year. I needed to hear, if even on a small scale, the hatred that people hold and how it is manifested through their interactions with others. I needed to hear that though we think we are not emotionally or psychologically damaging to ourselves or others, we certainly are at times. What I need this new year is to be present with myself. I need to deal with each day as it comes, to love each friend as they deserve and to let go of old habits that should have been long gone. I wish for each of you a happy and healthy year, to have fun and most of all, love one another.