Source: bharathin.blogspot.com
Here I go again, reading articles like Tim Bousquet's in the Coast that make me want to rant about dull-eyed, bovine, quasi-sentient demi-apes... It's no surprise that I'm disgusted with misogyny, but I'm also entirely disillusioned with politics; no more than that, I'm disillusioned with democracy. I've never been a staunch believer in it to begin with. So-called democracy has me living in a country dictated by the likes of Harper, after all. When the documentary Why Democracy? aired I was still floating in the wake of teaching global history & enjoyed Stanley Fish' article in the NY Times. Here's a quote: “Whom would you vote for as President of the World?” I know whom I’d like to vote for. Someone wise, learned, strong, courageous, compassionate, authoritative, incorruptible, inspiring, capable and good-looking. No one living (or dead) came to mind, so I settled for a fictional character, Atticus Finch, at least as he was played by Gregory Peck. And you see, therein lies the problem. Atticus Finch would never get elected in a democracy. And whether or not you agree with Atticus Finch as leader of the world isn't the point. The point is: Democracy is a popularity contest. The principle behind democracy is that the majority knows best what is good for their community. Example: Source: thebackbencher.co.uk Minorities (I include minorities in power here also, e.g. women) only rise in our current social paradigm if they appear somewhat consistent with the majorities' desires. If you think the Charter, or the police, or our legal system will protect us, good luck with that. Majorities are also wrong. All the time. All the f*cking time! Of course, I take this personally because a) I'm a woman, and; b) my ancestors were almost wiped out because they took a stance for pacifism (well that & the whole ethnic cleansing mentality). Source: zerobs.net The problem with placing all of our faith in democracy is best illustrated with a cliche that many of you have undoubtedly read before: Imagine you have a vote in a hypothetical election. There are two candidates that can be voted for: Candidate A was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium at university and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening. Candidate B is a decorated war hero. He’s a vegetarian, doesn’t smoke, has the occasional beer and hasn’t had any extramarital affairs. Who would you choose? I assume you’ve figured where this is going: Candidate A is Winston Churchill; Candidate B is Adolf Hitler. (note: neither option was a woman) 'Nuff said. <end of rant>
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Source: Facebook First off, this is NOT what I'd planned to write about today, but it does segue into what I was thinking re. INSTANT GRATIFICATION. More & more, we "efficient components of the consumer economy" (to quote Chomsky:) want quick fixes for everything, including intellectual fixes as to why society feels like it's failing us. Now, I'll be the first to admit: I can get my groove in high gear basking in the intellectual grapplings with quotes & ideas just as much as the next guy. However, let's be honest, there ain't no quote that can provide the answer to all of our existential woes. No matter how magnificent words may be, if they don't move us to change ourselves or our lives, they remain just that, words on a page. (I can hardly believe I just wrote that: I mean, I WRITE & EDIT FOR A LIVING, for cripes sakes:) Sure, most writers are trying, in some way, to change the way a reader will think or perceive certain people, certain situations. All I'm saying, is that one quote taken outside the context of a much larger world view is just that: A SOUND BYTE! It also explains this 'mad as a hatter' brouhaha insisting that authors come out swinging, throbbing or conjugating (and I don't mean verbs!) on the very first page, hopefully the very first line of their books. As irony will have it: I attended a gathering last week where most people agreed that their favourite books were ones that took them longer to get into...it surprised me because one of my favourite books, LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA, only had me completely enraptured by the 4th or 5th chapter) To recap, this is what instant gratification looks like: Image: runningwithpurpose32.blogspot.com And so, today I'm advocating for DELAYED GRATIFICATION Think about it! Think about something in your life that made you feel enormous pride & happiness. Was it something achieved in an instant? (I'm thinking not...) But, I digress. About the quote: Source: Jon Tattrie NO! Not the author. I refer here to the subject: General Edward Cornwallis (I like to call him C-Man). Mark your calendars: April 9th at 7:30 pm, author Jon Tattrie will launch his new book Cornwallis: The Violent Birth of Halifax The launch will take place at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. More information. I know, I know, I've said it before: "Some days, I'm too opinionated & scrappy for my own good, which is why I SHALL NOT rant about dull-eyed, bovine, quasi-sentient demi-apes". Well, to the batcave 'my own good'. Be gone, buzzkill! I've got an opinion & today, I'm feeling scrappy. (painting walls in a treehouse with cathedral ceilings: not helping) As an Acadian with aboriginal blood, C-Man (aka Cornwallis) holds great interest to me. Let's be clear that it wasn't C-Man, but Lawrence who gave the orders to rid the province of my 'pesky' ancestors. As for C-man, he had no crackerjack plan to remove my ancestors; he fully expected that they'd bend to his will. They did not. Read conclusion (& get links to more information) Love this painting I came across on Facebook! I imagine: * that those birds chirping & singing from the roots are my parents, my ancestors. * that from them, from the earth, my vibrant roots sing, with smiles in their voices and hidden wings that make me feel free, even when society tries to stomp on my dreams. Brought to mind an old Cummings poem. It's as if the words are heart-wide-open capturing my emotions: [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] BY E. E. CUMMINGS i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) What I take from this: Society's lures--consumerism, greed, and especially prestige—are powerful magnets that can warp our beliefs about what we truly enjoy. They may cause us to work not on what we love, but on what we wish we loved. My wish if that more of us will begin to listen to our hearts. Society may want us to lose touch with our magical (s)elves, but we can choose to open up, lighten up and let go of our egos. Society's lures may thrive when we build up our egos, but its a steep price to pay: The decline of community & culture & creativity & most of all, our passionate hearts. Have a great weekend all, May you listen & follow your passions, TartanFrog, aka Dina SHAME! SHAME! SHAME! That's all I can say about today's sentence for former Nova Scotia cabinet minister Richard Hurlburt's House arrest! Are you kidding me? But wait, you may not know Hurlburt, allow me to introduce you: Hurlburt (aka FATTUS CATTICUS shown left) submitted more than $25,000 in false expense claims when he was Conservative MLA for Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. He committed four frauds, including claiming $3,500 for a big-screen TV that went to his house instead of his constituency office, $7,400 for renovations to his office that were never done, and $9,000 for a generator that he didn't buy. This is an outrage & mockery of the justice system! Especially, since another MLA got prison time because he stole due to a gambling addiction. Hurlbut, on the other hand, made cold, calculated, greedy, capitalist moves for which he was unequivocally unapologetic and UNREMORSEFUL for (until a lawyer advised him otherwise). HIS SENTENCE: Spend a year by a lakefront home and keep hoarding his fat pension (paid for by hard-working HONEST Nova Scotians). "He doesn't pose a risk to society" keeps being bandied about. REALLY? People like Hurlburt define what is dangerous to society - complete disregard for their fellow human beings and self-interested greed above all! To those who are saying enough of our tax dollars have gone to him: I agree! His pension money would pay nicely for the cell he deserves. The next time I hear another Canadian accusing the United States of corruption I may resort to projectile vomiting. I'm ashamed of the decisions our federal government & justice systems have made recently. The values upheld by honest, hard-working and community-minded people like my parents are being spat on. . . SHAMEFUL! If it takes a village to raise a child, how much does it cost to pay off citizens (including politicians, teachers, and even parents) to support actions against a child's best interest? The flyer distributed in Halifax schools to promote the Christmas tree lighting event. Comment posted by Coast blog reader Bill regarding the insanity related to the event organized around the HRM Christmas Tree Lighting: "WE paid for their advertising? WTF?..." Image Source: www.thecoast.ca/blogs/RealityBites/ First off, let me state for the record that I've watched and enjoyed two Shrek movies. This is NOT about a movie or a movie character. This is about commercial insanity. This is about a city council that has lost its vision of a city for the people, by the people and of the people. While I was writing a community design take-home exam absurdity soared to new heights (again behind closed doors) in HRM chambers. What message is council sending us exactly? A. We can't have an Oval without advertising, but we will spend our tax dollars paying huge corporations with zero interest in Halifax or its children in order to advertise FOR them, or; B. You fill in this blank: Please consider the following quote posted by an Anonymous source on-line: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink... unless you hold his head under and suck it out his ass. " [except, in Cape Breton, we'd call it his 'arse'] And everyone knows exactly what I'm saying. Something smells in this town and it's not just sewage. Click here for more on this issue WFNS PRESENTS A FREE WORKSHOP WITH TANYA DAVIS Time: Tuesday, August 23 · 7:00pm - 9:00pm Location: The Writers' Federation of Nova Scotia, 1113 Marginal Road, Halifax, NS From Facebook (Created ByHillary Titley): Join Tanya Davis in a session exploring performance poetry and spoken word. This workshop is designed for those who have an interest in writing and developing spoken word poetry but will also benefit those intending to perform other types of work. To register, write [email protected], or call WFNS at 902-423-8116. And this intriguing event outside HRM (from the Coast): White Rabbit Open Air Arts Fest 2011 Combining art and fresh air since 2009 Posted by Stephanie Johns on Thu, Aug 18, 2011 at 1:30 PM Have a great weekend writerlies, TartanFrog "Rock stars tend to cast themselves as emotional savants, folks who feel the plight of vanishing rain forests and anguished Tibetans more acutely than the rest of humanity." TIME.com quote Talking about Bono from U2 who closed their world tour in Moncton last night. As for me, I was not there for Bono's political messages, despite the fact that I agree with a lot he says. I was there for art. For music. And THAT was great. I'd even say the Arcade Fire 'Carnaval of chaos' (Bono's words) surpassed all my expectations musically whereas U2 wowed me with the stage show octopus/crab that came to life. The mud I could've done without. Happy Natal Day Everyone, TartanFrog This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar.
Does ANYTHING conjur up vacation more than that FlowerPower Camper Van? Well, THEY say that if you have desires and you put them out there to the universe that the universe may answer. . . So UNIVERSE, I'D LOVE ONE OF THOSE!!!! And since I'm on vacation and can't afford a big trip, I've started a program to help me rediscover my inner creative child - oh stop it!!! I can hear you yammering in my head: "If anyone is in touch with her inner child" -- Blah, blah, blah Anyhoo, so I'm gonna be going the Artist's Way and you'll have to find your own writing contests for a couple of weeks. HOWEVER, if you're looking for a writing prompt - check out the pic (below) I snapped yesterday - the sign was hammered onto a telephone pole on my street. Let that inspire a story! And happy trails, TartanFrog Artist: Nathan Bray It's quite possibly a mid-life crisis, but less than 24 hours ago I sent a message to my closest friends asking them: Could you simply send me an e-mail and let me know: If you HAD to choose an object that reminds you of me - What would that object be??? Well the answers came pouring into my in-box invigorating me with their warmth, and wisdom, and even a bit of psychic nature to some of them. One answer, however, made me pause: "This, darling Dina, is a difficult question because you are such an airy spirit that I remember you typically in the door with a bewildered expression and a dramatic gesture raising a question that will keep everybody's mind happily employed for at least until supper. With gestures and mimics like that and ideas popping up in lush multitude, this distracts a lot from what you might have been carrying in your bag at any particular day. I think there are few people that I have gotten to know in this life that love ideas so much and care for things so little as you. . . " Although the loving ideas part is no doubt true & paramount, the beginning of that answer surprised me because I am very attached to those things that are somehow connected to those I love. And very finicky about them: Ode to my Barcelona Teapot I used to have a beautiful large teapot (you guessed it, I bought it in Barcelona). It was wide on the bottom and very heavy, but it felt so right and reminded me of you, and also of my friend Heather and of Kathy Mac. Whenever I'd make a pot of tea in that teapot it felt as if I were summoning you all to my imaginary table. I broke that teapot about ten years ago and haven't been able to replace it. I keep hoping that the right teapot will find me. I poke around whenever I'm on a holiday - I know it's hiding, somewhere, waiting . . . Someone gave me a teapot, but it's not THE ONE - they didn't know me well enough. It may sound ungrateful, but it's true: A teapot may be an object, but once it's been shared with close friends it begins to emit mysterious past conversations as aroma shadows whenever another conversation begins. Without even being conscious of them, those past conversations encourage us to link and connect ideas from those previous conversations and build upon their wisdom. I believe this cross-pollination of ideas is a harvest made possible by the presence of the simple teapot. The teapot may be physical, but it creates a hospitable space that reminds me of kitchen table wisdom - very distinct from my usual conversations which center around coffee and command intellectual dexterity. And now, since neither THE teapot nor my wisest women goddess friends are here at the moment - I shall, a traitor, fall back on my trusted coffee. Have a great weekend all, TartanFrog This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar.
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December 2015
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