"Step Bump, Step Bump Bump!"

If you haven't seen "Reno 911" you're really missing out. When I was in the Peace Corps, I borrowed one of the seasons from the Peace Corps office movie library (pretty much a jumbled mess of assorted DVDs out of their cases). I took it back with me to my small village of Chiscareni, and watched the whole season in about 2 days on my laptop.

This was BY FAR my favorite scene from any episode I had seen. It still cracks me up.

Are You There Henri? It's Me, Complete Stranger.

A new hobby of mine is shopping at Goodwill. I told somebody this recently and their response was essentially, "How can you do that... you're taking away from the poor?" Why do so many people believe this? It's the other way around. Goodwill is a wonderful organization that takes the profits from the sales of used items and puts them to use with educational programming and job training in order to provide more opportunities to people who are already denied way too many. So, basically if you shop at Goodwill, you are helping pay for these programs. You're not taking away from anyone, you are essentially getting treasure finds at dirt cheap prices and still supporting a good cause. It doesn't get much better than that.

Anyhow, one of my favorite things to do at Goodwill is to peruse the CD section. There are 3 crates at my Goodwill with thousands of used CDs to choose from. So far, I've scored quite the trove - albums from Massive Attack, Jill Scott, Everything But the Girl - and have been listening to them non-stop in my car. I recently bought "The Commitments" album for $1.50, and every song that comes up brings me back to my childhood when my mom used to be away at work and I'd be home alone, so I'd blast some of her CDs and sing and dance to them in the tiled door entryway. Not only are these albums providing hours of unexpected entertainment, some are also feeding that nostalgia portion of my brain that is tragically so undernourished.

This morning I went to Goodwill to participate in my own personal Saturday CD Safari. I bought No Doubt's "Tragic Kingdom" (memories of a middle school boy stealing the tape from his sister from time to time flooding my head and my ears with each song), an old Harry Connick, Jr. album (more Mom music - me mimicking his voice in the confines of my childhood bedroom) and one very interesting find...

Right in between an Enya album (she's HUGE at Goodwill!) and Garth Brook's Greatest Hits, I found a Dany Brillant album, "C'est Ca Qui Est Bon". Now, I've heard of Dany Brillant before - maybe in French class, I'm not sure - but the only reason I bought this album is because there was a piece of paper taped to the front of the CD with a phone number for somebody named Henri. (See below - I've covered two of the numbers so nobody harasses anyone.)



I just couldn't resist. How mysterious! Who is this "Henri" character? Why did he give someone this album? Is he French? Hasn't he heard of Post-Its?

Holding the CD in front of me, my imagination immediately began to run wild. You see, Henri was a foreign exchange student from Paris studying at the UW. He fell in love with a girl, Suzette. Everything about her was so French - her name, her swagger, her beautiful, pursed lips - but she was just as American as all the Heathers and Ambers he came across. Plus, she had no idea who Henri was. He was so insecure about his command of the English language that he never got the guts to speak to this girl, so on the eve of his flight back to Paris, he slipped this album under her dorm room door with his phone number attached in hopes that one day she would call him.

No, that can't be. Why would he give her an American phone number to be reached at in Paris? Oh yes, that's right, because Henri was actually a first-generation American with Tunisian parents. One day, in his mid 40s, he remembered it was his mother's birthday in two days. He had no gift and no ideas. After reminiscing about his childhood, he remembered how his mother would sing to him old Dany Brillant songs to help him get to bed as a small boy. The perfect gift! Why not remind his mother how much he appreciated those times and that comfort with one of Brillant's albums? Oh, and his mother didn't have his new phone number either, so he had to tape it on the CD so she'd remember it. Also, he couldn't email her, because this happened in 1981. What's that you say? Dany Brillant was born in 1965 so this story is impossible?

Oh, forget it.

For those of you who know me well, you know I am a very curious person and don't have too much fear with random human interaction or awkward situations. So, the only thing left for me to do was just call the number. I did...

Straight to voicemail and it definitely was NOT Henri. It was a woman with an American accent.

I guess I'll never know who Henri really was, but he provided me with hours of imaginative thinking and mind escape that I'll never get back. Regardless of it all, the album's pretty good so at least it was worth the money!

WWFFD?

It is not uncommon to hear in typical right-wing commentary (read: obnoxious, illogical banter) phrases alluding to our founding fathers and their approval or disapproval of modern policy. In fact, it is practically a genuine last ditch, cop-out strategy. It's like they all sit in a room with a checklist of issues and the only criterium to be reviewed is "Would our founding fathers approve?" These people are exactly who we should look to today to form our country's modern, political agenda: old, white, DEAD guys from the 18th century.

If there is one strategy that is pulled more than the "FF Argument" however, it's the Christian Card. And when the two combine powers, it's like Batman and Robin, peanut butter and jelly, Justin Timberlake and SNL - a winning combination - for the right wing folk.

The religious right have (time and time and TIME again!) said that they want our country to "return to the Christian principles on which it was founded."


One problem: our country wasn't founded on Christian principles. Our founding fathers were not Christians. They were DEISTS, meaning that while they believed in God, they did not necessarily believe in the Bible or Christianity. Thomas Jefferson, for instance, respected Jesus' moral lessons (in fact, he was pretty much a full-fledged Jesus scholar), but didn't subscribe to the belief that he was the son of God.

Let them speak for themselves.

Abraham Lincoln said, "The Bible is not my book, and Christianity is not my religion. I could never give assent to the long, complicated statements of Christian dogma."

Yet, President Obama, who is often likened to Lincoln, must for some reason constantly reassure us he's a Christian in order to scrub the Hussein out of him to appease the American people. Further, if he wasn't a Christian, there's no way he would have been elected.

Thomas Jefferson's diss might be my favorite. It's so sassy! In my head, I see him snapping and turning on his heels after his impeccable delivery of "I do not find in orthodox Christianity one redeeming feature. The day will come when the mystical generation of Jesus, by the Supreme Being as his Father, in the womb of a virgin will be classified with the fable of the generation of Minerva in the brain of Jupiter."

Mystical? Fable? Nowadays, any US president would be called sacreligious, satanic and likely impeached for such words.

And there's more:

John Adams: "The divinity of Jesus is made a convenient cover for absurdity. Nowhere in the Gospels do we find a precept for Creeds, Confessions, Oaths, Doctrines, and... foolish trumpery that we find in Christianity."

This was our President! Somehow, when I make these points today, people stare at me with a look that shows me they're doing everything in their power to refrain from running to grab the rope.

James Madison: "During almost fifteen centuries has the legal establishment of Christianity been on trial. What has been its fruits? More or less, in all places, pride and indolence in the Clergy, ignorance and severity in the laity; in both superstition, bigotry, and persecution."

Makes us recall that America was founded by a bunch of people seeking freedom from religious persecution. Yet more than 200 years later, that idea has flipped and now we deny people rights based on what the Bible supposedly labels as sin.

And in case none of this was clear enough, I think George Washington (you know, the "father" of our country?) said it best: "The United States is in no sense founded upon the Christian doctrine."

Simple enough.

The problem here seems to just be simple miscommunication. The right has somehow equated belief in God as being Christian. The founding fathers did believe in God. In fact, you will find many references to God in many of their writings and speeches. However, while they may have believed in God, as stated earlier, they were also Deists and believed the Bible NOT to be true and certainly never intended for it to govern our country.

So what does this all mean? To be frank, any argument against modern values that uses the founding fathers is flawed, God or no God. It's also important to remember that many of our founding fathers were also racist, elitist bastards. I guess the whole point of this is don't believe everything you hear. We get told things in school, on TV, from our parents, and too often we automatically just believe them to be true. That's how things get out of hand and lies become truth. So listen and do your own damn research... and if you're going to use the founding fathers as a beacon for what's right and good about America, at least know what you're talking about.

The (Hard P)Art of Writing

Oh, but it's sooooo hard.

This is how it usually happens. I start thinking about something that is absolutely incredible. I form sentences in my head that are brilliant - you know, the kinds of sentences that win Pulitzer Prizes. These words that I string together in my brain are so magnificent that I applaud myself. It MUST get written down somewhere - back of receipt, hand, straw wrapper. I pull up to my apartment building, grab my unbelievable revelation and clutch it with all my might, throw the keys on the sofa (just kidding, I don't have a sofa yet) and open up my laptop. I open a new page, go to my blog and then I stare at the this blank, rectangular box. Then I think about what I need to get at Target if I go there tomorrow. Or about how far I think I'd get if I auditioned for American Idol. Or about moving to Norway. Or I chew a pencil. Then, like clockwork, I always end up cleaning dishes.

Turns out, being disciplined in your writing is difficult. Give me the benefit of the doubt here though. I was on vacation from Friday through Monday, camping with friends for Memorial Day weekend. As for missing entries for Tuesday and Wednesday, totally my fault. No excuses. It's just that, when you start to seriously think about your chances on American Idol, that's a thought that can take hours to complete.

I'll do better next time. Admittedly, this is a post just to post so I don't feel bad about not posting tomorrow. It's also a kick in my butt from myself because by writing this post now, I have eliminated the possibility of writing any such posts in the future. So, it's sort of like a "Get Out of Jail Free" card. And now it's gone.

So, to be better, knowing that organization is a huge part of being disciplined, I will start researching topics to write about for tomorrow... that is, right after I update my Netflix queue. Priorities, people!

I Parted, You Parted...

I spent a good half hour thinking of how to introduce this song to you. I couldn't think of the words, I was (like the orchestra at the end of the clip) speechless.

All I can say is this is a song that moves me. This is a song that, when I close my eyes, I am taken to a different place, a place that I can't describe because I haven't been there. No other song does this to me. This is a song that I try not to listen to too much because I don't want to spoil it. This is a song whose lyrics and melody have been a perfect remedy. This is a song that has changed my life, changed the way I feel, the way I think, the way I listen.

I cannot promise it will do the same for you, but I had to share. This is my favorite song from my favorite band.

"Ara Batur" (Row Boat) by Sigur Ros



Here are the (roughly) translated lyrics for those who are interested:

You tried everything
Yes, a thousand times
Experienced enough
Been through enough
But you it was who let everything
Into my heart
and you it was who once again
Awoke my spirit

I parted, you parted

You stir up
Emotions
In a blender
Everything in disarray
But it was you who was always
There for me
It was you who never judged
My true friend

I parted, you parted

You sail on rivers
With an old oar
Leaking badly
You swim to shore
Pushed the waves away
But to no avail
You float on the sea
Sleep on the surface
Light through the fog

Multumesc, Moldova! (Thank you, Moldova)

Because I cherish very much my time spent in Moldova, albeit shorter than expected, here is a wonderful video that Moldova submitted to the Eurovision contest this year. For those of you who do not know, Eurovision is a HUGE competition where each country in Europe enters a song into the competition - think of it as a huge talent show and the contestants are each countries in Europe.

Well, Norway won this year, but Moldova made it to the finals. I am not surprised. This video is so inspiring and correctly captures the essence of Moldovan life.

At the beginning of the video, you'll note a message in Romanian: "Acest videoclip a fost realizat impreuna cu toti locuitorii Moldovei". This translates into something like, "This music video was created together with all the people from Moldova."

Noroc!

"Hora din Moldova" ("Moldovan Hora")

Is "HOPE" lost?

It was probably September or October of last year. I was still a Peace Corps volunteer in Moldova and it had to be a weekend since I was taking a trip to Chisinau, the capital. I stopped by the Peace Corps office and picked up my mail: OMG, a ballot! Having heard horror stories from other volunteers who previously never received their ballots overseas I was really worried about getting mine and was surprised I actually got it.

My mind was (obviously) already made up - Barack Obama. "Yes, we can!" HOPE! Change!!!!! I connected my arrow to his name, then very prominently voted NO on Proposition 8 and finally, after doing some research on local politics I was clueless on up until that point, I finished the rest of the ballot and mailed it off.

Fast forward a month of so - November 4th. As luck would have it, we education volunteers had a training in the capital that whole week, so we were put up at the Zarea Hotel in Chisinau (0.01 stars). While the accommodations were terrible - no showers, no sinks, creaky beds with ancient mattresses - the one thing this hotel had in each room was a TV. On that TV, in black and white, BBC was available. I stayed up late watching all the election results come in - Ohio! Pennsylvania!! Florida!!! I lay wide awake, my eyes glued to the little TV set, until 4am when it was finally announced that Barack Obama had won the presidential election.

Then he marched out. He made his speech and there was an acknowledgment in the first minute that gave me chills and almost brought tears to my eyes: "It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America."

Wow. The President of the United States of America recognizes who I am and thinks I am an equal citizen of this country. Finally.

Fast forward a few months. Where did that man go? Recently, some extremely qualified servicemen and women have been fired from the military due to their sexual orientation under the policy "Don't Ask, Don't Tell". See this video from "The Rachel Maddow Show" below to get some more information about this.



Yesterday, Ana Marie Cox, a reporter with Air America, was brave enough to actually tackle this issue head on by asking White House Press Secretary, Robert Gibbs, a question regarding the recent firings of gay servicemen and women. See below for the hypocritical response given - it contradicts the first video's statement, which contained official information from the Pentagon stating that no action on "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" has been taken.



So listen, I am willing to give President Obama the benefit of the doubt here - maybe it's just miscommunication existing in his administration or just a disconnect with the Pentagon that needs to be cleared up. But the bottom line is that these are human lives, reputable careers that have been built up, lauded, and sacrificed for the greater good of our nation that are now being shattered for a reason that has absolutely nothing to do with military service. How can our politicians in good faith stand back and just let this happen? How can we accept all of the heroism that gay and lesbian service people have given us, then refuse them equal opportunity and full disclosure?

I know one thing. I cannot, in good faith, support a president who knows that this is happening and does nothing about it. Would I take back my vote if I knew this was going to happen? Probably not. However, I'm glad that tears only ALMOST welled up in my eyes that early morning on November 5th, because tears of relief and hope actually cried would clearly have been in vain.

But it's so catchy!

Question, Jordin Sparks: "Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Answer, Pat Benatar (25 years earlier, mind you): "Love IS a battlefield."

Who knew it was so simple?

UPDATE (5/29): The previous embedded link expired, so now I have to use this stupid YouTube video with cheesy photo of Jordin. Just deal, or else "you better go and get your armuhuhuh!"

An Acrostic Poem

I don't know where to start. Therefore, I will start where every one of my teachers from 2nd to 8th grade started: with an acrostic poem! Hooray!

M:aybe a Lunatic
I:ndeed, Eloquent
C:an be an Asshole
H:umane, yes, Humane
A:t times, Complete
E:ver an Idealist
L:ately, Moody