Monday, January 23, 2017

Women's March, 1-22-17

We gathered in front of the Ashland Library, 10,000 of us in a town of 20,000. We gathered in Washington, New York, Los Angeles, in cities and small towns on every continent on the globe.  Over 1 million of us stood up, raised our voices and roared.  Women run governments, corporations, universities. Women are legislators, judges, entrepreneurs. Women have autonomy over their own bodies and a right, a duty, to control their own reproduction. We claim our rights, our voices, our power, our freedom. We are not afraid. We are not going back.

Best sign of the day:



Beautiful Mouna, my Colestin neighbor.


















Nasty Women Unite!


Monday, January 9, 2017

I Have a Temper

It's true.

It's much more under control than it used to be.  Most of the time, I keep it buried.  I've gotten so much better at biting my tongue. People who know me can tell when I'm angry, but not by what I say. I don't yell any more but my frosty silences speak volumes.

I've gotten a better at rolling with the punches and blowing things off. When people take advantage of me, I've gotten better at letting it go. What does it matter anyway? Accept what you can't change, yadda yadda.

I try to practice forgiveness and compassion, but I have one exception: don't mess with my family. Those who hurt the ones I love have poked a bear. I have no patience for injustice, no tolerance for people who use and abuse. And if you use or abuse a member of my family? Hell hath no fury.

I have no time for this shit any more.  Change what you can't accept.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Isaiah 58

  58 “Shout it aloud, do not hold back.
    Raise your voice like a trumpet.
Declare to my people their rebellion
    and to the descendants of Jacob their sins.
For day after day they seek me out;
    they seem eager to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that does what is right
    and has not forsaken the commands of its God.
They ask me for just decisions
    and seem eager for God to come near them.
‘Why have we fasted,’ they say,
    ‘and you have not seen it?
Why have we humbled ourselves,
    and you have not noticed?’
“Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please
    and exploit all your workers.
Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife,
    and in striking each other with wicked fists.
You cannot fast as you do today
    and expect your voice to be heard on high.
Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
    only a day for people to humble themselves?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
    and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
    a day acceptable to the Lord?
“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
    and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
    and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
    and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
    and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness[a] will go before you,
    and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
    you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
    with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail.
12 Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
    and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
    Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
13 “If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath
    and from doing as you please on my holy day,
if you call the Sabbath a delight
    and the Lord’s holy day honorable,
and if you honor it by not going your own way
    and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,
14 then you will find your joy in the Lord,
    and I will cause you to ride in triumph on the heights of the land
    and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob.”
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

58

A year ago, I wrote about my misgivings about my 57th year.  Well, I made it through; today I'm 58, and not a moment too soon.

I spent the last 10 days of my 57th year sick as a dog, I mean flat on my back sick. I don't think I've ever missed an entire week of work due to illness, but I did last week.  I wasn't sure if I was going to hit the finish line on my 57th year, but here I am.

The privileged world I live in suffered celebrity deaths and a celebrity election in 2016. Outside of my privilege bubble, much of the world lives in virtual slavery and/or unimaginable poverty. To them, 2016 was just another year of toil and hunger.

According to our friend Wikipedia, 58 is a Smith Number. Ironic, no?  A Smith number is a composite number for which, in a given base (in base 10 by default), the sum of its digits is equal to the sum of the digits in its prime factorization.[1] For example, 378 = 2 × 3 × 3 × 3 × 7 is a Smith number since 3 + 7 + 8 = 2 + 3 + 3 + 3 + 7. In this definition the factors are treated as digits: for example, 22 factors to 2 × 11 and yields three digits: 2, 1, 1. Therefore 22 is a Smith number because 2 + 2 = 2 + 1 + 1.

I have no idea what any of that means.  I wish I was the kind of person who understood higher math, but I missed my moment for that.