goddess of clarity: a blog about politics, culture, and serenity
Archive: November 8 - November 28, 2004
November 23, 2004 — 14:17 EST
I'm driving down to Levittown, Pa., tomorrow for Thanksgiving with the parents. I'm trying to convince Mr. Goddess that we should hit the road by 5:00 a.m. Part of this is because I like getting up early and driving someplace. For some reason it makes the trip feel special, like a secret mission or something. The main reason, though, is that I want to try to get there before the parade ends so I can see Santa. Call me an old-fashioned materialist, but I like Santa.
I've decided that Thanksgiving may very well be my favorite holiday of the year. There are several reasons for this. First, it's in fall, my favorite season. Second, no awkward gift-giving expectations. Third, it falls on a Thursday, rather than a Monday or Friday, which pretty much guarantees that the whole work week surrounding it is shot. And finally, it's an entire holiday devoted to food!
Like all families I suspect, my family has its "must have" foods in order for Thanksgiving to be considered official. Before dinner, my Dad puts out a big basket of mixed nuts. This is to ensure that by the time the football game starts, the living room carpet is covered in shells, which always made me wonder why Mom would make us vaccuum it in the first place. And cranberry sauce in a can; mmmm, I love that stuff! Forget the turkey, I used to eat it with a spoon. My mom even has a special crystal dish for it. She dumps the cranberry sauce out of the can with a satisfying "thwop" and then slices it up into thin, can-shaped slices, the rings from the can still visible along the edges.
We also end up with more food on the table for dessert than at dinner. A typical Thanksgiving dessert table at my house includes: multiple pumpkin pies (bakery-bought and homemade), apple pie, mincemeat pie, coconut cream pie, pumpkin cheesecake, chocolate cheesecake, mini cherry and blueberry cheesecakes, pineapple upsidedown cake, bread pudding, rice pudding, and of course, both Cool Whip and Reddi Whip, to cover all possible non-dairy whipped topping preferences.
Happy Thanksgiving!
—lori.
November 18, 2004 — 10:05 EST
Bill Clinton's presidential library opens today, and in honor of the great man, the goddess presents the following:
Top Ten Exhibits You Won't See at the Clinton Presidential Library
- "Stand By Your Man: The Life and Love of First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton"
- "Hey, Wanna See My Scar?"
- "The Quarter Pounder with Cheese and its Role in the Domestic Policy Debates of the Mid-1990s"
- "Do I Look Fat in These?: A Gallery of Presidential Running Shorts"
- "I'm the Leader of the Free World, Bee-yatch!: Sex and Power in the Oval Office"
- "The Gore Corner"
- "I Am Bulletproof: Surviving Whitewater, Impeachment, and Hillary"
- "Buddy and Socks: White House Pets as Allegory"
- "The Roger Clinton Children's Fun Zone"
- "Berets and Blue Dresses: A Century of Intern Fashion"
—lori.
November 17, 2004 — 11:23 EST
Heard this interesting story on NPR this morning: seems a high school in Texas has elected to cancel its spirit week tradition of cross-dressing day and has replaced it instead with "Camo Day," where students come dressed as soldiers. Apparently some concerned parents (probably one crazy Jesus mom) felt that the event promotes homosexuality. No word was given on whether dressing as soldiers might promote, say, killing people.
On a positive note, you know at least two, maybe four guys from this school will show up in camouflage dresses. I take comfort in that.
—lori.
November 15, 2004 — 16:42 EST
When we are debating an issue, loyalty means giving me your honest opinion, whether you think I'll like it or not. Disagreement, at this stage, stimulates me. But once a decision has been made, the debate ends. From that point on, loyalty means executing the decision as if it were your own.
Secretary of State Colin "Good Soldiers Never Die They Just Fade Away" Powell, 2000-2004
—lori.
November 15, 2004 — 10:11 EST
OK, this is just wrong on so many levels that it beggars belief. I'm watching football yesterday and I see a Burger King ad that made me fear for the future of the republic. Two large guys in chicken costumes are at a boxing match weigh-in. Apparently they are supposed to represent Burger King's Tender Crisp and Spicy Tender Crisp chicken sandwiches, and they are preparing to fight it out for the Ultimate Chicken Championship. As so often happens at these weigh-ins, words are exchanged (or, I guess, clucks in this case?) and things get out of hand as each chicken's entourage gets involved in the ensuing melee. At the end of the ad we are exhorted to visit chickenfight.com, and then on the screen flashes the following disclaimer: "No chickens were harmed in this fight. Participants are actors in chicken suits who are fighting at their own risk." Hilarious.
So I visit chickenfight.com (what the hell, right?) and find a full 12-minute movie of the "fight" complete with a steel cage, ringside announcers, a large and remarkably real looking audience, the works. The "expert" sets up the fight explaining the long and noble tradition of chicken fighting, "TC" and "Spicy" enter the ring to great fanfare, and the fight begins.
I only watched the first 6 minutes of this, so I have no idea who wins. But I think I know who loses: it's us, the great American chicken-sandwich-eating public. I mean, for Christ's sake! What were Burger King and its ad agency thinking?! There's another disclaimer on the Web site saying, "No real chickens were harmed in the making of this advertising campaign. Burger King Corporation does not endorse or condone animal cruelty in any way including chicken fighting. The chicken characters featured in this advertising campaign are just actors wearing a chicken costume." When you have to apologize for AND explain your ad from the outset, doesn't that send up a giant red flag for someone? Weren't there meetings to discuss this? "I know, boss. Let's create an expensive campaign that associates our food with the classy atmosphere and can-do spirit of the world of cock fighting."
Just when I think America's hit a new low, someone breaks out a shovel.
—lori.
November 11, 2004 — 09:14 EST
To those who scare peace-loving people with phantoms of lost liberty, my message is this. Your tactics only aid terrorists, for they erode our national unity and diminish our resolve. They give ammunition to America's enemies, and pause to America's friends. They encourage people of good will to remain silent in the face of evil.
Attorney General John "Round Then Up And Let God Sort Them Out" Ashcroft, 2000-2004
—lori.
November 10, 2004 — 11:32 EST
Maps like this one have been making the rounds of the Internet in the last week.
This one shows the election results by county, using three colors—red, blue, and purple— to indicate percentage of voters, and with the sizes of the states rescaled to indicate their population density.
University of Michigan: Maps and cartograms of the 2004 US presidential election results
Kinda looks like a big bruise, doesn't it? Like the election just sucker-punched the country in the eye, and we woke up in the morning with a nice shiner.
Or is that just me?
—lori.
November 9, 2004 — 12:37 EST
The first snowflakes of winter fell on Rochester last night. I was walking to my car after work, and it was just starting to really come down. You could see the snow reflected in the headlights and streetlights. It didn't stick, but it was around just long enough to make things look pretty.
I'm a fan of snow. I can't help myself. Even out here in western New York, where the radio announcers reassure us with forecasts of "only 3 to 5 inches expected tomorrow." What can I say? I like snow.
I'll need to remember this come February, of course, when excited squeals of "Hey look, it's snowing!" turn into angry outbursts of, "Goddamn it, it's snowing!" If only someone would invent self-scraping cars, this would never be an issue. Snow is beautiful; it's clearing one foot of the stuff off your car twice a day, every day, that gets old. Failing that we should all just get "scenic snow." No more than three inches a week, with maybe one big blizzard a year to give us all something to talk to our neighbors and other strangers about.
So for now, it looks like winter is finally under way. The hot water heater in our apartment has sprung its annual leak, the fluffy throws are back on the sofa, a slew of new movies will soon be available on DVD, and the kitchen is stocked with apple cider, whisky, and General Foods International Coffees. I'm all set.
—lori.
November 8, 2004 — 16:50 EST
On Saturday I ran a mile without stopping for the first time since my Recent Run-In With The Health Care System. That's not that big a deal, I know, and I am the slowest slow poke who ever poked slowly, but I don't care. I'm putting it down as a bona fide achievement moment.
One thing was weird, though. I've always used little mantras to keep myself going when I run—little mind games I play with myself to stop one side of my brain from talking the other side into giving up. For example, when my legs or lungs feel like quitting, I'll list all the other body parts that are feeing good (Forehead, check! Nose, no problems there! Ears report all systems go!) Sometimes I just count, and then tell myself that I won't look at my watch until I've counted to 500.
This time, I found myself repeating over and over: "Gotta stay strong for the next four years! Gotta stay strong for the next four years! Don't quit now! Gotta fight the good fight!" Now, I don't know who I think I'm fighting. I'm not exactly a "power to the people" kind of gal. But if being pissed about Dubya helps me run, then why not go with it.
—lori.