The past has teeth

The best line, as far as I am concerned, in this piece is:
"Hate is a strong word, but it is the only strength I have left. How am I to forgive the men that severed the trunk of my family tree and used its timber in the fireplaces of their own homes?"

A Dreamer

What would happen if we all shook hands with the "enemy?"

The "enemy" is us.

Will I ever be pretty?

I wanted to write about something meaningful. Something interesting and provocative. The reality is I rarely know what I'm going to write before I do it. So this is a conglomeration of everything running through my brain.

Recently there has been a lot of uproar over comments made by the President of Abercrombie & Fitch about why they don't provide plus sizes. For those out of the loop he said (and I quote):
"In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids. Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely."

One of the articles I read said that they were clinging to a "standard" of beauty.

The truth of the matter is, that it has only been in recent years that skinnier was seen as a "standard." In fact, it used to be that if you were smaller than a size ten something was wrong with you. That isn't to say that the "standard" hasn't fluctuated over time (it has, quite a bit). Because of this fluctuation it can't really be called a "standard." It is a variable.

Beauty is variable.


The persistent desire to be completely inside out and accepted, despite the secrets and sins, is overwhelming sometimes. Everyone wants to be seen as they are, completely exposed with nothing hidden, and be loved anyway. We all want to be beautiful, considered beautiful anyway.

As a little girl I wanted to be a man. I still wish I was, sometimes. I wanted to be a man because God would love me, even if I liked girls. I would be handsome. I could pee standing up. I wanted to be a man because men held all the power. They could be ugly, they could be fat, they could be anything they wanted and they would be catered to.

People like those who work for Abercrombie & Fitch helped with that. Men are dominant. They can be any size and still find things they want.

When I was a teenager I saw it this way:
Skinny girls - loved by fat guys and skinny guys.
Skinny guys - loved by fat girls and skinny girls.
Fat guys - loved by skinny girls and fat girls.
Fat girls - No one loves a fat girl, not even the fat girl.

I am not a standard. I am a variable. As a variable I am worthless, except in mathematics. It doesn't matter how well read I am, or how great conversations with me are. It doesn't matter if I am sweet or cute. I'm not loved because of those things. I am hated because this body is heavy.

That doesn't mean that I won't find sex. My grandmother Eileen once told my mother (and she shared it with me) that men will crawl on broken glass if they think they will get to have sex. Some men will have sex with heavier girls because we have low self-esteem. And how could we not? So we become a plaything. A toy to be used up and thrown away because we will never be the current definition of beautiful.

I walk into a store and all I feel is self-loathing.

I hate shopping. I hate it because fat women aren't supposed to look pretty. Everything you find is to guilt you into losing weight because you are ugly and a waste of space. I get tired of that. I try to lose weight, but it just doesn't come off. It is tiring, being told you aren't good enough and having people insist that you HAVE to be beautiful (skinny, perfect hair, big boobs, etc.) to be perfect. What about being perfectly IMPERFECT?

What about what lies at the core of us?

Beauty is only skin deep. There is truth in that saying.

All my dreams of being skinny, all my dreams of being beautiful. They all come down to a desire to be accepted. To be taken as I am. Inside out, exposed to the world and embraced in spite of the differences.

Even I am prejudiced against people with weight problems. I don't watch porn with heavy women. I am not attracted to women who are heavy. I look at a heavier woman and I feel pity for her. I feel pity for her because I feel pity for myself.

I look at women my size and I feel a modicum of hatred for them. A hatred for them because they mirror me. I hate myself. I hate the way I look. I hate who I am. I am smart. I am a decent conversationalist. I fancy myself to be a decent writer. But I am not beautiful.

I am not pretty. And even though I listen to Katie Makkai's "Pretty" I can't break out of this circle I've twisted myself in. I cry when I listen to her say "You will be PRETTY amazing, you will be PRETTY creative, You will never be merely pretty." I cry because I want to be more than merely pretty. I want to be more than a variable in a river of standards.

I want to be unafraid of being who I am. I want to believe that I could be loved by another man. I want to believe it when my husband tells me I am beautiful. I want to feel it. I want to KNOW it.

You look pretty up on Google and you get pictures of Megan Fox and Hayden Panettiere. You get women who seem impossibly skinny. Women with perfect breasts and they can count their ribs.

I will never be the definition of pretty. I'll always be a variable, even if I lost the weight. Even if I had the surgeries. Even if I made myself fit into the standard.

Something is lost in all that. The "pretty" I was is lost in the shuffle. The "me" I was is gone. And I'll never be pretty because of that.

A Girl named Anne.

Recently Justin Bieber has been in the news for a rather controversial note he wrote in the Anne Frank House's guest book. For those of you who have been unaware (lucky you!) here is what he wrote:

“Truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber.”

Now, my biggest problem isn't what he wrote (though we'll cover that in a moment). It is all of his fans asking "Who is Anne Frank?"

This outrages me. HOW can you NOT know who Anne Frank is/was? What are you being taught in school that you skipped over this important piece of history?

Here, let me enlighten you:
Anne Frank was a young girl living in Amsterdam during World War II. She was Jewish and her family hid from the Nazis in what Anne termed the "Secret Annex." She dreamed of being a writer and she kept a diary during her time in hiding. She, and her family, were discovered and taken to Bergen-Belsen (a concentration camp) where she, and her older sister Margot, most likely died of typhus. She was 15.

Her diaries were published 1947, by her father, Otto Frank. He was the only survivor of their family.

When I was about thirteen or so, my grandfather gave me "Anne Frank: The diary of a young girl" for Christmas. It was one of the most precious gifts he ever gave me. I was Anne's age (when she started her diary) at the time. I remember the impact it made on my life. My sadness that this bright light had been snuffed out so early in her life. My heart still aches whenever I think of this brilliant young woman who never had the chance to properly shine.

What angers me the most isn't Justin's comment, though it was uncouth in the situation, it is that so many young people have no idea who this beautiful young woman was. And they have no interest in finding out!

America is lacking in Education. We spend more on our weapons and our wars than we do our children. Prisoners get better educations than some of our children.

For example: The US ranks 14th in Reading, 25th in Maths and 17th in Science as compared to Finland (purported to have the best educational system in the world) which is ranked 2nd in Reading and Maths and 1st in Science. If you don't believe me you can have a look at the following chart created by PISA (Program for International Student Assessment) of the top 34 countries.



This isn't the only comment to outrage me lately (as to education).

As many of you know, I am a huge BioShock fan. Recently BioShock Infinite came out (a game I have waited a couple years for) and I was pleased with the historical details it went into.

A, somewhat, brief synopsis of the game: BioShock Infinite is much like its predecessors in that it covers different ways blind belief and -isms can destroy us. Unlike the previous two, we were not in Rapture. We are no longer in the world originally created around Andrew Ryan (Ayn Rand) and Objectivism (Ayn Rand's philosophy). We are in Columbia (not the country Columbia), a world in the sky and very much like America in 1912, partially because it is an extension of America.

There are a few historical battles mentioned in the game. Namely Wounded Knee and the Boxer Rebellion.

There was a comment that my husband found by someone who played the game. It said "BioShock makes the best Skyrim references" and had a picture of the Battle of Wounded Knee sign in the game. He was referring to the "I was an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee" line said multiple times by various guards in Skyrim. He seemed blissfully unaware that there was a real event called the Battle of Wounded Knee.

I've said this before, I know I have, but if we don't learn from the past how are we to ever survive the future? How will our children make it in this world? What happens when we all stop learning, when we all stop reading? What happens? What happens when we forget young women like Anne Frank and battles like Wounded Knee? What happens when we no longer bother?

To Justin: Your comments were inconsiderate and uncouth. You didn't come across as being cute or witty. You came across as ignorant and proud. Too proud to realize how much of an ass you made yourself look like. Anne Frank wasn't your typical teenage girl. She probably wouldn't have floundered at your feet. If anything, I think she wouldn't have liked you at all. If you had read her diary maybe you would realize she wasn't into the whole self-appreciation crap.

I used to think you were funny Justin. I didn't like your music, but you were a cool kid. I hate the person you have become. You are so self-absorbed and rude. So proud and arrogant. I hope, one day, that you grow out of it.

Pork Chops

This is triumph. The audacity of living in a world that continues to berate you and tell you that you aren't good enough. This is the strength of hope, a shining light in the darkness that feeds on our fears and our sadness. This is beauty. And it lives in all of us.

Stuck in the Caverns of my Head

A sad tale, to be sure, I am currently being plagued by a severe case of writer's block and depression. No, I don't know why I'm depressed, I just am. I've been thinking a lot lately and I think I just think too much.

I feel like such a disappoint me sometimes. I've tried so hard to accomplish something, something to make my parents proud, make my grandparents proud, hell, make ME proud. I have yet to feel like I've done that. Though my mother and my step-father tell me all the time how proud they are of me.

One of the few things I don't like about my recent conversion to Islam is not showing my hair. I kind of miss doing cute things with my hair where people other than my husband can see it. I know wearing hijab isn't required to be a practicing Muslim, but I kind of enjoy wearing it. I feel more secure in it, even though I miss showing my hair.

I am surprised by how passionate I've become about Islam. I have always had a deeper desire to learn about it. A deeper desire to explore. I just didn't realize how much I would love my experiences with it. Even the bad ones. They have made me something more than I was. And I am okay with that. I feel like in some ways I have become better. In other ways I know I still need growing and maturing. Its a funny thing discovering that you are never as mature as you think you are. I still have so much growing up to do, in spite of all the growing I thought I had already done.

I have been thinking about guns, wars, hates and gods. I've been thinking about this world with all the people in it, all the beautiful things we could learn, and we still can't love each other. It hurts. I'm not sure why, but it does.

I have been dreaming about death and sadness. I wonder if it is an omen of things to come or a representation of my current surroundings.

A prevailing thought is that I have to be brave in the face of what I don't know. I have to keeping going forward because I am so close to something, even though I don't know what it is. I am standing on a precipice and all I hear is "I'm not going to fall, I can't."

And in the midst of all this, I hear Josh Groban singing "Brave." And I know those lyrics fit me somehow, but my puzzle is incomplete.

The Case for the Second Amendment.

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron."
- Dwight D. Eisenhower, 34th President of the United States.

My personal opinion on the Second Amendment is this:

I, as a normal person, don't need an automatic weapon. It isn't needed for hunting and I'm not planning on killing anyone. Should military have these guns, yes. Should police have these guns, yes. But they have a different job than I do.

I like guns. They are fun to shoot. They are good to have around sometimes. But I don't need an automatic one. I don't feel like anyone should have an automatic weapon. They are dangerous and completely unnecessary to everyday life. My husband and I disagree on this point. He believes we should be allowed to have whatever weapons we want.

The reason I bring this up is because today (this first day of my shiny New Year) has been spent arguing with people about my choices in Religion and my choices in Politics (hopefully this day hasn't set the tone for the rest of the year).

One of my "friends" on Facebook (he is no longer a friend, as I have deleted him) posted the following on his wall, we'll call him Gunner since he is definitely for guns of all sorts.

Gunner: Bitch needs a home invasion... cunt'll change her tune with a quickness.


Me: First of all, I really don't understand the need for a normal human being, like myself, to own semi-automatic weapons. When am I going to need that for hunting? When am I going to need to kill several hundred people at one time?
Secondly, I don't think that registering your weapons is a bad thing. Why wouldn't you want to know who has guns? I mean, if the crazy person next door has guns, wouldn't you like to know about it?
Thirdly, the fingerprinting, I agree with. I had to be fingerprinted for my job, what is wrong with someone getting fingerprinted for purchasing a weapon? However, I think fingerprinting should be enough in that situation, so I do disagree with the photography. People's appearances change, fingerprints don't. Unless you do something on purpose to change them.
Lastly, why would you say that? You've been posting verses, I've seen them. Why would you be quoting scripture and then turning around and calling someone a "b***h" and a "c**t"? Doesn't the Bible say "Judge not lest ye be judged"? And "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you"? And "Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him."?
You may disagree with what she says, but are you really being a good example by behaving in this manner? No. You are actually making an irrational and awful statement about attacking someone so that they will do things your way. Last I checked, that wasn't the American way (America is the land of the Free. Freedom to express personal views. Last I checked, that was the 1st amendment. Granted, that doesn't mean there aren't repercussions to saying what you want to, but she has the same basic rights everyone else does.) or the Godly way ("Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen").
Not trying to start a fight, just trying to show a different point of view.

MA (one of his friends): I wish I could have said it that well, Sarai. Thank you!

AB (one of his friends): My only issue with the whole thing is "like common criminals" Otherwise, there should not be any reason for anyone to have a problem with this. I own a gun and have no problem doing any of this because I am NOT a "common criminal."

Gunner: First and foremost either of you ever been hunting? No. Didnt think so. I just went yesterday. I took an automatic shotgun. ever had soemone blow your window out with a shotgun? nope. I have. I reacted with a semi auto weapon. and im alive today and a criminal is not. as for my religion, lets not go there. I post verse because it strikes m interest. I get pissed off, I speak. The bitch is trying to take my rights away. i think she needs a lesson on why we Do need automatic weapons. criminals can still get them even if I cant. MA you should damned well know how difficult that gunfight would be if you were the one without an automatic weapon. you'd be fuckin dead. i think people need to wake the fuck up and quit living in their dream world of "oh everythings ok except the war maybe if we ban guns all the bad stuff will go away and the government can take care of me" um no. the government A lies to you habitually B. doesnt care about you at all C. wants to run your life further than even the most repulsive liberal would want. I have registered weapons i have no problem with that but seriously people, dont tell me what kind of weapons i can and cant have. im not a criminal so ill listen but guess what the criminals wont. when they start kickin your door in on your family come talk to me and then tell me how you feel. If its at any doubt at all, yes you pissed me the fuck off. God Bless America.

Me: I'm sorry to have upset you, Gunner. Apparently you have changed more than I originally thought. I am sorry that you seem to be under the impression that because you have had bad things happen to you in your life that you should be allowed to force your opinions on others.
I'm also sorry that you seem to find Liberals "repulsive" as I am a liberal. I believe in equal rights for everyone, I believe in gun control because it is right, not because it will actually stop anyone. Will there always be criminals? Absolutely. Will there always be evil? Absolutely. However, I don't understand your reasoning behind this. No rights are actually being infringed upon. Nowhere in the second amendment does it say that you have the right to semi-automatic or fully automatic weapons.
The second amendment is still very important to me, no matter what. I believe that we have the right to bear arms. I believe that guns are important to the safety of anyone. My great-aunt has a rifle she keeps in her closet in case someone tries to break in. She has been fingerprinted for it and registered it with the State Police. Has she ever had to use it? No. But I'm grateful she has the right to have it.
I'm not living in a dream world. I know the government lies to me. I know everyone around me has two faces. There is the side the public sees and the side that the private world sees. I'm saddened by this, but it is a fact of life.
I'm also saddened by the fact that not that long ago you commented on something I had posted (as said by Eisenhower). He also said "A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both." And that is all I'm going to say on the matter. [At this point I made the semi-painful decision to delete him from my friend's list. This is a friend I haven't seen in 10 years that I finally found after really searching. It was a disappointment to discover just how different he is now from the person I remembered.]

TB (one of his friends): ok i have read enugh bullshit gunner i have been in your life for 14 years and in all that time you have never shot a gun at a person. you can lie to these people on here and build your self up but lieing about shooting and killing them is a out and out lie

MA: You ever been to war? No, didn't think do. You were either too scared, or too stupid to join the military. Don't tell me about fire fights. Don't tell me what bombs are like. If you are going to live your life by your "messiah's" scriptures you might want to read what he said again.

So far this is all there has been to the argument. Because I commented on it before I deleted him I can still see the posts. I just can't comment any longer.

I've decided to keep this argument for posterity, as it shows a complete lack of understanding on some people's parts. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my opinion was accepted amongst his friends, whereas I was afraid I would be attacked by them. I think the saddest part is that I thought we were on the same wavelength regarding gun control. The reason for that is the quote I posted at the very beginning of this post (which I also vaguely referred to in my reply to him, but I got distracted and forgot to finish the thought).

When I posted that quote this is the conversation we had:
Gunner: Im very very very pro gun (obviously) but he had a point to be understood. Well posted hon.

Me: I am also pro-guns, but I am also pro-regulation of said guns. The 2nd amendment even calls for a well-regulated militia, not an unregulated populace. Also, Eisenhower was a good president.
And I'm glad you think it was well posted

Gunner: Likewise, Every gun I own I gladly went through the due process of. Without one single complaint and Id gladly do it again. and yes he was.

Am I sad that I deleted him? Yes. Because I really had been looking for him this whole time. We were close until he moved and I was so excited when I found out he had moved back and I ran into him. So my heart is a little broken right now. It hurts losing friends. It hurts fighting with people on my very first day of the New Year. 

Would I delete him again? Yes. Because I'm not going to be treated negatively for having a different opinion and I'm not going to allow people to bring hatred into my life. I'm determined to be positive now. Its time for this Shiny New Year to really SHINE.

The Harlot's Blush

It is impossible to say how long they had been insane. The madness was a black pool in which they had, long, been drowning. It was toxic, yet it seemed to give them an almost ethereal loveliness. A tainted beauty enveloped their house and clung to them like so many flecks of ivory colored mud.

He had been a soldier. The blood stains of war could be seen beneath the slowly cracking facade. He lost himself somewhere in the torn jungles of a foreign land and between the legs of a beautiful, young, girl with soulless eyes. His infidelities, to both his wife and himself, often stirred the fires of madness to the point of a break. He would fling himself into a scalding tub of water and scream at God for just a moment of peace. When it had passed he would remind himself that God had died, with him, in those war torn jungles long ago.

She had been a victim of incestuous desires, forced to run from her home to escape an older brother. She had run as far as her twenty dollars and sixty-two cents could take her before she began hocking the only thing left to her. She married the first man that asked and lied, saying she was eighteen. She was his wife, a leash on the madness, already creeping in, until the war. Everything changed after that. While he was gone, she took a lover and began to drink. The scars building on her arms and torso were just to bleed, not to kill. There was no one there to care.

After another fifth of whatever alcohol she can find, she stumbles into his arms. He is shaking and whispering. He looks afraid, as if he were a wounded rabbit being hunted by something more sinister than a fox.

"God is dead. He died between that girl's legs in those forsaken jungles. What a waste. What a tragedy." He whispers into her tousled amber hair as he plants a small kiss on her pale earlobe. He is speaking nonsense, he always does after the nightmares begin. And they always begin this time of year.

~~~

The couple next door have finished moving in and are having a celebratory dinner. They invite their neighbors, though they feel uneasy around them. They can sense the wrongness beneath the calm, everyone can. At first the young wife pleads with her husband not to invite them. There is something there that makes her frightened. Proper etiquette and good manners win in the end.

The evening begins, quietly, with a few casual drinks and pleasantly neutral banter. It grows into a robust game of chess, unwitting pawns in the world of questions. It fades into a hulking paranoia, and resentment, as the guests are politely introduced to the door. Good nights and good byes are given and received as they part for the night.

~~~

The paranoia sits on his chest as he tosses and turns. He must have the beautiful young woman next door. She is perfect, so wonderfully fresh and new. He must have her. His wife doesn't matter, she doesn't even compare. The young woman next door is all that matters.

He watches her, day after day. He follows her as she walks home from the store. He memorizes her curves as he stalks her. He is waiting for the moment to take her, the moment where she will be his alone. He waits, patiently, for a year, writhing in the heat of his lust and the agony of his madness.

He takes her. Takes her just as he did a young girl in a foreign country years ago. He strings her up and rakes his hot hands over her body. He says he will take his time, enjoy her, but impatience is a cruel master. It drives the knife into her writhing body over and over. It is impotence and rage, tempered with insanity, that drives the knife. He can no longer satisfy his wife or himself. Not since that girl in the jungles where God died. He can no longer be a man.

~~~

She finds him in the shed in the fenced-in backyard. He is wallowing in blood and praying to his crucified Madonna. He is crying and has cut himself. She finds his severed manhood lying beside the young neighbor's wilting corpse. Gently, she lifts it from the dirt floor and places it in an empty firefly jar.

She goes to him then. She kneels beside him and takes his head into her lap, caressing his tangled hair. She pries the knife from his hand and twines her fingers with his. She bends over him to kiss his cheek, all the while murmuring words of comfort. She imagines a crown of thorns on his beautiful head as she slits his throat.

She ties him up beside the neighbor woman and begins to devolve into her own wickedness. Her eyes glitter with hatred and insanity, the madness a poisonous balm to her breaking heart. She hums an off-key melody as she lines up jars. They are mostly empty, but in her mind they are holding the parts of every man that harmed her.

She croons, softly, to his body as it, too, begins to wilt. She glances into his tear-bright eyes, still wide in shock at his sudden demise. She sings to him, as if he were a sleepy child. Brushing a stray wisp of hair from his face, she pats his cheek.

"A beautiful forest, a sea of green, nestled at the foot of the mountain. God stands within, laughing at the rotting demons strung amongst the autumn leaves. Their eyes cry out and ghosts weep, quietly. No mortal loves his life in that forest.

"You look so peaceful," she whispers, caressing his cooling face. His eyes seem to be screaming at her. "so calm and beautiful. You didn't have to take her when I would have given myself up to your knife. Was my blood not perfect for this exorcism? Was my heart not beating for you as the blade graced your throat?

"What a waste. What a tragedy. What a beautiful blush the harlot has upon her snow cheek. She fell in love with you, even as you wielded your blade against her. She parted softly with your name, a hallowed prayer, upon her bloody lips. She was a rose and you stole her petals, a goddess in flesh and you freed her from imprisonment.

"What now, my husband? What now, my love?"

She sees him stir at these last words. A strangled scream escapes her mouth as he sways toward her. His hands, once secured, now reach out to choke her, to deny her breath. She claws and gnashes her teeth, sinking into his cold flesh and tearing it. She hears him howling, like a werewolf, his screams beating against the drum of her skull. All her struggle is in vain.

~~~

They found her with her own hands wrapped around her throat. Red teeth marks and torn flesh lay in abundance. The two bodies, hung from the rafters, seemed to be in a lover's pose. A bloody heart was drawn on the wall behind them.

When she was revived all that could be discerned from her garbled speech was "heaven." They led her away from the scene in a white coat, given to her by the nice man also in white.

What they could not understand she knew all too well.

She had tasted heaven in her final scene.

Another Moment

I was eleven in 1999. My brother was nine and my sister was almost four.

I don't think it was the first year that my mother let us stay up for New Year's Eve, but it was one of the first years she let us.

Y2K was everywhere. It was the new Communist scare; the newest trend in fear. We were going to be set back from the technological age.

For me it was exciting. I have always dreamed that we would be forced back in time. It is an idea that I've tried to write about too. I love history so much that it made me think that we would start dressing like we did in the 1800's again, start speaking properly and acting like we were civilized. Much to my chagrin, that isn't what would've actually happened if technology had been decimated.

On this particular New Year's Eve, on the brink of a new millenia, my brother and I were staying up for midnight. Hannah had already been put to bed, mostly against her will as she had wanted to be a big girl and stay up too. She fell asleep shortly before ten and I carried her to our shared bedroom. Chris and I hadn't fully decided what we wanted to do.

If I recall correctly, we played some records before we decided to watch a movie.

Of course our first choice was "Much Ado About Nothing."




My mother has always been very eclectic in her tastes (which is where I got it!) and her love of classical things is what influenced me in my love for the same. Shakespeare was one of my first loves. Elvis came first, though.

Anywho, this was one of our favorite films. It still is. So we watched that. That killed some time, but not enough for midnight.

It was around this time that Ivan, a dear family friend, called to wish us Happy New Year. I told him that Mom had gone to bed with a migraine and that Chris and I were watching Shakespeare movies until midnight. He offered to come over and watch movies with us. And bring pizza.

When he arrived we decided to watch "Henry V."




Which, in case you didn't know, is a war movie. It is one of the only war movies I enjoy, because it is Shakespeare in all his glory. And Kenneth Branagh. That helps too... Because it is a war movie, that automatically means that it is bloody. As in VERY bloody. Nothing like blood and pizza on the brink of what was supposed to be the Technological Apocalypse, right?

Anyway, Ivan kept covering his. He isn't fond of blood and gore. Neither am I, usually, but for this particular movie I make an exception. Did I mention Kenneth Branagh is in it? I did? Oh, well it bears repeating... Hmm.... *drools* I mean, what? Where was I? Oh right, the movie.

So, Chris and I, being terrible children, kept teasing Ivan and telling him that the blood was gone. Of course he would peep out from between his fingers and see there was still plenty of blood on the screen and cover them back up. And we would giggle like it was the funniest thing ever. Which, at the time, it was.

I don't know why, but I've been thinking about this particular memory a lot lately. Nostalgia in my old age? Who knows.

I miss those times. I miss believing that everything was going to be fine. I miss believing that we were all going to make it somehow. I miss being closer to my sister. I miss having a family.

I still have a family, but it feels different. It has changed so much from the family it used to be. We are still Debra, Sarai, Chris and Hannah. But we are different. We are much changed from the people we used to be. Sometimes I don't think we are changed for the better.

Sometimes I miss living in that little blue trailer, in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by fields full of alfalfa and woods that held such beautiful mysteries. I miss riding my bike up and down that gravel road. I miss our dogs. I miss my knitting lessons and sneaking peeks of naughty movies while babysitting. I miss sharing a room with my baby sister, with an old and tattered poster of a Degas ballerina. I miss listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the record player. I even miss listening to old sermon tapes.

I miss the deer heads and the mounted fish. I miss fishing and playing in the snow.

I miss making homemade pizza with my mom. I miss playing chess with my brother. I miss reading to my mom.

What I miss most is what you can see in these pictures...










I miss what we used to be, when we were happy. Not when we were fighting, not when we were being abused, not when we were miserable. I miss those sparkling moments that linger in my memory where we were happy and we were a family.

An Asthma Attack

We arrive on this scene to find it in disarray. There seems to be an interesting battle taking place and the whole of the battlefield is a set of heaving lungs. The lungs seem to be in some kind of stand off with the immune system, all weapons aimed and primed for the battle.

Left Lung: Sir, I ask you to kindly holster your weapons. We are of one body, YOUR body. We are a part of this system and it is quite silly of you to be attacking us in this manner.

A Bronchial Tube: *he is clearly contracted and struggling to maintain airflow* I think I may explode, sir. I can't take much more. Where is our back up?

Immune System Sargent 1: I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid you don't have the proper clearance to be a part of this system. I'm going to have to ask you to cease and desist all operation immediately or we will have to resume our attacks.

Right Lung: *into a tiny radio* Where the fuck is our back-up?! We can't take much more and they aren't backing down! Requesting immediate back-up!

There is a loud whistling and wheezing that can be heard throughout the set of lungs, a warning siren trying to contact their back-up.

Immune System Sargent 2: Fuck this, its a trap! FIRE!

The Immune System begins an all out assault upon the lungs and bronchial tubes, which have full constricted, restricting air flow. The wheezing gets louder with every attempted intake of oxygen.

Right Lung: We are running low on O2, Commander. Where is our back-up?!

Voice Over: We're deploying as fast as possible, hold your positions!

Left Lung: Things are starting to look a little hazy, Sir. I'm beginning to feel a little blue-ish.

Voice Over: Maintain your positions! We are all apart of this same body, we can't let them destroy it!

Another Bronchial Tube: Intake valves completely blocked. O2... cannot... be... taken. *He quickly passes out*

Immune System Sargent 1: Keep firing men! Destroy the interlopers!

Immune System Sargent 2: For the love of Body, where the hell is all this haze coming from?

Left Lung: That's because we can't get to our reserves of O2, you idiots! Without it everything looks hazy. You have to hold your fire so we can reopen the conduits!

Immune System Sargent 2: NEVER! ITS A TRAP!

Right Lung: YOU WATCH TOO MUCH FUCKING STAR WARS! For the love of Body, hold your fucking fire!

Just as everything seems lost, the area above the lungs and immune system fills with a soft mist. Steroidal Paratroopers drop in and begin spraying the area. The Immune System retreats and the Bronchial tubes are revived.

Immune System Sargent 2: *clearly high* Why were we fighting again? Everything is too pretty to fight.

Immune System Sargent 1: *quickly losing to the effects of the steroids* I know right? Everything is so... red. Such a pretty red. I wanted to be red once.

Immune System Sargent 2: Dude, those lungs look like water balloons. Did you notice?

Immune System Sargent 1: I think you are drunk, Sargent. They most definitely look like heaving red petals, barely hanging on to the flower stems.

Right Lung: Man, that stuff works fast.

A Steroidal Paratrooper: That's what you wanted right? Fast back-up?

Left Lung: Not complaining. Just in awe of how fast your fast is.

A Steroidal Paratrooper: That should keep them occupied for a while. *the Paratroopers retreat further up leaving the lungs and bronchial tubes to assess and reverse any damage*

Right Lung: Its too bad that this peace can't last.

Left Lung: There is no way to convince them that we are part of them is there?

Right Lung: Unfortunately, no. This immune system is too damaged to realize the truth. We just have to continue maintaining our ground.

Left Lung: In a never-ending civil war. Sounds almost poetic, don't you think?

A black cat stole my heart

Whilst on my random music kick last night (that brought my love of Mucc roaring back) I happened to come across this group called Black Cats. They are a Persian group (or Iranian, depending on who you are) with a lot of interesting dance music.

One of my favorites is "The Popfather." It is hilariously bad, but I love it so much! They reference a lot of artists I don't know, but they do mention the Beatles and MC Hammer, both interesting picks in any song.

Another that I really love is "Faryad." But the reason that I like it is very different. Even though it has a very poppy sound, do not be fooled. It is a very dark song about dark times. It is very sad too, as it questions the humanity of other humans. (Something I question all the time, but that is beside the point)

However, today is special. You are going to get a two-for-one special on music. First you get the sad/dark song about war (with poppy, up-beat tempos) and then you get my all time favorite Black Cats Song!


Now for something to pep you back up (not that I expect you to have lost too much pep, since the meaning of something gets lost in translation. Especially when it is disguised with a poppy sound). "Ey Daad" is just awesome. It was the first song by Black Cats that I found and I immediately liked it. I don't understand it, but I like the sound and the rhythm of the words. The cadence of the language, if you will.


That's it, for now. I will probably post more later on. But for now I have a can of Salt and Vinegar Pringles calling my name and I can resist no longer.

Walk the Plank with Eyes wide open.

200: My middle name is: Elizabeth
199: I was born in: Palo Alto California
198: I am really: Tired
197: My cellphone company is: AT&T (unfortunately)
196: My eye color is: Brown/Black, depending on mood.
195: My shoe size is: 11
194: My ring size is: 10
193: My height is: 5'1"
192: I am allergic to: Corn, Rice, Shellfish (most recently discovered), bee stings and numerous antibiotics...
191: My 1st car was: 1985 Fleetwood Brougham Cadillac
190: My 1st job was: Cleaning houses
189: Last book you read: "Before I go to Sleep"
188: My bed is: on my right.
187: My pet: is currently non-existent
186: My best friend: my husband
185: My favorite shampoo is: Anything by Suave
184: AIM name: Is non-existent, because I don't have AIM
183: Piggy banks are: AWESOME! Especially if it is a Vampire Pig Piggy Bank, like mine :D
182: In my pockets: is lint.
181: On my calendar: I have nothing circled
180: Marriage is: wonderful, if it is to the right person.
179: Spongebob can: be my best friend!! I love that yellow sponge!
178: My mom: is one of my best friends and I cherish her.
177: The last three cd's I bought were? Lungs by Florence and the Machine, Josh Groban by Josh Groban and Awake by Josh Groban (those last two were purchased almost four years ago... I don't buy cds often...)
176: Last YouTube video watched: Happy Wheels Let's Play... Unfortunately. Thanks to my wonderful husband...
175: How many cousins do you have? If we count just first cousins, I have 6. If we get into all my other cousins I quickly lose count...
174: Do you have any siblings? I have 11. 4 adopted older siblings, my brother, my half-sister and 5 half-siblings that who died before seeing the sun.
173: Are your parents divorced? Yes.
172: Are you taller than your mom? Not anymore.
171: Do you play an instrument? I used to play the recorder. I now am able to pick out small pieces of random songs on the piano.
170: What did you do yesterday? Bought some Christmas presents.

[ I Believe In ]
169: Love at first sight: No. I believe in LUST at first sight. But not love.
168: Luck: Yes. And I have horrific luck.
167: Fate: Yes.
166: Yourself: Not really.
165: Aliens: No.
164: Heaven: Not as much as I used to.
163: Hell: Yes. Earth is hell.
162: God: I believe in A god, not necessarily any specific god, however.
161: Horoscopes: Not really, though they are fun to read.
160: Soul mates: Yes.
159: Ghosts: Yes.
158: Gay Marriage: Yes. Everyone has the right to be married. No matter if they are gay or straight.
157: War: No.
156: Orbs: I'm not sure what those are...
155: Magic: I wish I did.

[ This or That ]
154: Was there supposed to be a question here?
153: Drunk or High: Drunk.
152: Phone or Online: Phone.
151: Red heads or Black haired: Red heads! Though, I do like both.
150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes.
149: Hot or cold: Hot. I can always take off clothes. I can only put so many on however...
148: Summer or winter: Summer.
147: Autumn or Spring: Autumn.
146: Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla.
145: Night or Day: Night. Easier to see the moon.
144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges. They don't hurt my teeth.
143: Curly or Straight hair: Curly. I wonder why that could be? lol.
142: McDonald's or Burger King: McDonald's. Though I should say neither...
141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: White Chocolate.
140: Mac or PC: PC.
139: Flip flops or high heals: Flip flops all the way!!
138: Ugly and rich OR Sexy and poor: Sexy and Poor. Just like my hubby. :P
137: Coke or Pepsi: Coke!
136: Hillary or Obama: Obama.
135: Buried or cremated: Neither.
134: Singing or Dancing:
133: Coach or Chanel:
132: Katherine McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Katherine McPhee
131: Small town or Big city: Small town
130: Wal-Mart or Target: Wal-Mart
129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Neither.
128: Manicure or Pedicure: Neither.
127: East Coast or West Coast: West Coast
126: Your Birthday or Christmas: My Birthday
125: Chocolate or Flowers: Flowers
124: Disney or Six Flags: Six Flags
123: Yankees or Red Sox: Neither. I don't give two shits about baseball.

[ Here's What I Think About ]
122: War: It is horrific and often completely pointless. I thank all those who fight for my so called "freedoms", however you should be at home fighting against corrupt politicians rather than dying thousands of miles away.
121: George Bush: is an idiot who fucked up our economy.
120: Gay Marriage: should be legalized, because it is MARRIAGE. If two people love each other they should have the right to be married. And this whole debate about it is fucking ridiculous and unconstitutional. Everyone has the right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. If your happiness is being Gay, than you should have the right to pursue it!
119: The presidential election: is coming soon and I don't know who I'm voting for.
118: Abortion: is okay in certain situations. However, I generally am pro-life.
117: MySpace: is obsolete.
116: Reality TV: is stupid.
115: Parents: are there to take care of us, though sometimes they fail. Miserably.
114: Back stabbers: are the worst.
113: Ebay: is something I'm not into.
112: Was there supposed to be something here?
111: Work: is necessary, but not always fun.
110: My Neighbors: are annoying when they've been drinking.
109: Gas Prices: are too high.
108: Designer Clothes: aren't worth the designer prices.
107: College: is where I'd like to be next year.
106: Sports: are okay, but I don't have time to be interested right now.
105: My family: is dysfunctional, crazy, fun, spastic and wonderful.
104: The future: is dim.

[ Last time I ]
103: Hugged someone: was fifteen minutes ago.
102: Last time you ate: was fifteen minutes ago.
101: Saw someone I haven't seen in awhile: Yesterday!
100: Cried in front of someone: Last night.
99: Went to a movie theater: July
98: Took a vacation: September
97: Swam in a pool: Last year?
96: Changed a diaper: May
95: Got my nails done: Never.
94: Went to a wedding: September. (Attending my own counts, right?)
93: Broke a bone: Two years ago.
92: Got a piercing: Actually, I've never had a piercing, though my husband is paying for me to get my ears done as my Christmas present.
91: Broke the law: Earlier today... I didn't put on my seat belt.
90: Texted: 7:32PM

[ MISC ]
89: Who makes you laugh the most: Donnie.
88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: My bed!
87: The last movie I saw: was some Bleach movie that I only watched to please my brother.
86: The thing that I'm looking forward to the most: is the beginning of a new year.
85: The thing I'm not looking forward to: is moving. Again.
84: People call me: Crazy.
83: The most difficult thing to do is: to admit you're wrong.
82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Never.
81: My zodiac sign is: Libra.
80: The first person I talked to today was: my hubby.
79: First time you had a crush: I was two and I told my mother that I was going to marry Elvis Presley when I grew up. Unfortunately I was born in '88 and Elvis was long gone by then.
78: The one person who I can't hide things from: my friend, Sarah Jo.
77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: Last night.
76: Right now I am talking to: No one.
75: What are you going to do when you grow up: be a linguistic literature translator?
74: I have/will get a job: at Sam's club doing demos.
73: Tomorrow: I have to work.
72: Today: I worked.
71: Next Summer: I want to be thinner and preparing for school.
70: Next Weekend: I work.
69: I have these pets: non-existent.
68: The worst sound in the world: is nails on a chalkboard.
67: The person that makes me cry the most is: myself.
66: People that make you happy: Donnie, Sarah Jo, my brother, my mom, my friends!!
65: Last time I cried: Last night. Unfortunately.
64: My friends are: wonderful.
63: My computer is: annoying sometimes.
62: My School: is going to be IU
61: My Car: is a 1988 Chevy Astro Van.
60: I lose all respect for people who: have double standards.
59: The movie I cried at was: A lot of them?
58: Your hair color is: black/brown, aka: my natural hair color currently...
57: TV shows you watch: none right now.
56: Favorite web site: Facebook
55: Your dream vacation: Ireland in the fall.
54: The worst pain I was ever in was: right after my car accident. A shatter pelvis, shattered leg and miscellaneous injuries. Not to even mention the emotional trauma/pain of losing my car.
53: How do you like your steak cooked: Well.
52: My room is: quickly filling up with presents.
51: My favorite celebrity is: currently Lee Jun-ki
50: Where would you like to be: In bed with my husband, sleeping.
49: Do you want children: Not anymore. It doesn't matter. After the wreck I was told not to have children.
48: Ever been in love: Yes.
47: Who is your best friend: Didn't I answer this already?
46: More guy friends or girl friends: Currently? Girl friends... and it is fucking WEIRD! I've always had more guy friends.
45: One thing that makes you feel great is: when Donnie kisses me.
44: One person that you wish you could see right now: My Memere. I want to tell her all the things I didn't get to before she died.
43: Do you have a 5 year plan: Sure?
42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Yeppers.
41: Have you pre-named your children: I did have all their names picked out. Now I guess I'll use them in stories instead.
40: Last person I got mad at: This bitch at Wal-Mart who got super shitty with me for no reason.
39: I would like to move to: Sweden!! :D
38: I wish I was a professional: writer.

[ My Favorites ]
37: Candy: Banana Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
36: Vehicle: Cadillac and a Dodge Charger...
35: President: John Quincy Adams
34: State visited: Wisconsin
33: Cellphone provider: I don't have a favorite. They all suck.
32: Athlete: Michael Jordan
31: Actor: Cary Grant and Wentworth Miller
30: Actress: Keira Knightley
29: Singer: Gackt.
28: Band: The Beatles
27: Clothing store: Maurice's
26: Grocery store: Wal-Mart
25: TV show: Remington Steele and Case Closed
24: Movie: Inception
23: Website: StumbleUpon
22: Animal: Horse, Lion
21: Theme park: Holiday World
20: Holiday: Labor Day
19: Sport to watch: Football
18: Sport to play: Soccer
17: Magazine: TV Guide
16: Book: Daughter of the Blood by Anne Bishop
15: Day of the week: Saturday
14: Beach: A tiny one I visited while I was in Florida.
13: Concert attended: Don Francisco... That's really the only one...
12: Thing to cook: Homemade Pancakes
11: Food: Waffles
10: Restaurant: O'Charley's
9: Radio station: B97
8: Yankee candle scent: Almond Cookie and Fresh Cut Roses
7: Perfume: Crush: Blue
6: Flower: White Rose
5: Color: Blood Red.
4: Talk show host: Regis Philbin.
3: Comedian: Eddie Izzard
2: Dog breed: Doberman Pincer
1: Are you ready for this survey to be over? Yes?

PFC Brett Wood

Spencer, Indiana, has been in the news recently with their show of patriotism for one of their own, PFC Brett Wood, who was killed recently while overseas. The entire town lined the streets as PFC Wood's was brought home.

His memorial was held in the gymnasium of Owen Valley High School, from which he graduated just last year. His body was later cremated, per his request, and returned to his family.

He was 19.

Rest In Peace, PFC Brett E. Wood.

Dreams of my Father

I dreamt about my biological father last night. It was odd, because I haven't dreamt about him in a while. I felt so many different things in that dream. Feelings I've been suppressing in the waking world.

We had moved into our new apartment, in my dream. And somehow I happened to see my father in a window across the way from my apartment. It was kind of "Rear Window"-esque. I felt like I was staring at him through binoculars. Realizing it was him I practically flew out of my apartment to his. Only to suddenly be in a hotel room.

There he was. As I remember him, a seven year old's image of her father. He is so romanticized in my mind. To me he will always be the handsome man who picked me up off the ground when I fell from the monkey bars and got sand in my eyes. The guy with glasses, and a great mustache, who was constantly filming me and my brother, photographing my mother, even though they were no longer together. The man I adored and thought was amazing, a god with flaws. I wish I could've saved him. I wish we had been enough.

There he was. My father. In that moment I felt a surge of love for him. With a small aftertaste of hate and realization. He hugged me. I told him I was getting married. He cried. I cried. I told him how much I had missed him. How much I wish I had never sent that letter. Never said the things I said. He forgave me. I forgave him. He was going to do the one thing I've always wanted. He was going to give me away at the ceremony for my wedding. He was going to dance with me, that father daughter dance that I'll never actually have.

I think part of my subconscious realized this was a dream, because I felt a surge of pain. A trembling in my chin, that trembling that always preludes a gut-wrenching cry fest.

He told me that he had been released. Released from the drugs, prison, etc. He was a free man and he was going to be there for me. He offered to help pay for the wedding. He offered to help in any way he could.

Then he disappeared. In a split-second I was talking to my mother. Telling her the good news. Telling her how excited I was. About the crying that we did. About the hug and the forgiveness. Then she tells me that he had lied. That he had escaped from prison, not been released. That he was on the run. Now he would never be able to do what he had said he would. Now he could never fulfill his promises. He would spend his life running. From the addictions, from the law, from his empty promises and his guilt. I truly believe he feels guilty.

And I felt that moment of realization again. The moment when I realized that he would never be able to keep his promises. Just like when I was seven and I made him promise he wouldn't do drugs anymore. And he promised. I think he meant to keep it. I'd like to think he really tried. I'd like to believe that he loved me enough to give it a valiant effort. But what am I compared to methamphetamine? What am I compared to cocaine and heroin?

I've never been so heartbroken upon waking from a dream. I have a damaged relationship with a father I've always worshiped and no real way to fix it. I think, as little girls, all daughters have this kind of romance with their fathers. Not the sexual kind of romance you find in smut novels or internet porn. Not a romance in the traditional sense. We have a love for our fathers that is so deep that it colors our entire outlook on men.

Our father is our first introduction to the world of men. He is our first husband, our first boyfriend. He is our first guy friend, our first impression. We romanticize him, even if we never knew him. Even if we have a bad relationship. Because in many ways we want him to be wonderful. It gives us hope for other men if our father is a good man.

I see the similarities between my father and my ex-boyfriend. I see the parallels between my relationship and my father's relationship with my mother. I see the parallels with my current relationship. I see the parallels with all my male interactions. I have always been so desperate for a man to love me. I have always been so afraid of the men around me. Not because my father abused me, but because I always felt like he abandoned me. Like he never truly loved me. How could any man love me if my own father could not? I wanted that love from my father that I never fully received. It is a terrible loss to me. An awful waste.

I hated him. I hated him for so long. I only called him by his first name. Or didn't speak of him at all. I tore him off of a pedestal and threw him to the ground. A displaced god in my personal garden of hell. The more I hated him, the more I loved him without even trying. I tried to justify his actions to myself, I still do sometimes. I tried to place him back on the pedestal the prodigal god returned to his rightful place of honor. Waged a whole war with myself. All for what?

When I woke up I felt raw. Tender to the touch, like a still healing scrape. Even now I feel hurt. As my wedding draws closer all I keep trying to not think about is that moment when the judge (or the pastor or whomever) says "Who gives this woman to be wed?" The moment when it will be only my mother standing there beside me. When my father will not be there to say "Her mother and I." When the music begins playing at the reception and there is no father for me to dance with.

I've never been so sad to wake up.

A Letter to Stupidity

Dear Stupid/racist people that I am ashamed to call my friends,

It is days like today that make me wonder why I am friends with you. I seriously cannot even begin to comprehend what would make you say the stupid and racist things you say on Facebook. I cannot understand what possesses you when you let yourself practically vomit stupidity all over your page. Did your hands break as you were typing to create that heinous dribble that you call intellect?

Or is it your mind that has taken leave of itself? You write the worst conspiracy theories I could even imagine. Even a child would know that you were preaching trash! You call yourself a Godly Christian, then write some seriously disturbing rhetoric about the President and the United States. I am behind you saying the US sucks. For all intents and purposes it truly does. It is a terrible country, one built on blood and double standards and lies. I do not disagree with that point.

At least place the blame on the correct shoulders! "Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please." As the wonderful Mark Twain once said. Instead of just allowing whatever inane, insane, ridiculous, stupid and unsupportable dribble come out of your mouth and onto the computer screen, do the world a favor and shut up! Try to learn before you speak! When you present something, be prepared to show proofs as well, because I am tired of seeing this on social networking sites!

We go to these sites to bitch about our bad day at work or to celebrate something good, to share what moves us and what makes us smile. We also come to discuss different politics and religions, but that doesn't mean that as soon as we begin a discussion we start screaming like apes loose in the jungle! We are human beings and should learn to act as such. We are not children, we are adults, so let's act like that! Let's try to be mature every now and then, shall we?

In the meantime, I am going to continue to ignore your absurdity.

Sincerely,
Me.

Postscript: It is hard to write a scathing letter when you are being enveloped by beautiful cello music.

A Heroine for Indianapolis

Julia Carson



Julia Carson was a United States Congresswoman and Indiana Representative. She was a member of the House of Representatives for Indiana's 7th Congressional District.



Some Interesting Facts
* Was not only the first Woman to represent the 7th District, but she was also the first African-American.

* She was the second African-American woman to be elected to Congress from Indiana.

* She worked for Rosa Parks to receive a Congressional Gold Medal.

* She was the first person to receive the Frank O'Bannon Award from Indiana Stonewall Democrats.

* Her grandson, André Carson, is now the Congressman for Indiana.

* She worked for the Center Township as a trustee, creating a $6million surplus from the office's $20million debt.

Some Quotes from Julia Carson (and two about her)
- "Julia Carson overcame much and accomplished much, and devoted her life to helping other people do the same," - Senator Evan Byah on Julia Carson

- "Truly, it is all in the name of greed and truly in the name of war,"

- "We have such a wide array of people, of cultures, of interests, of talent, of abilities,"

- "I love Indianapolis."

- "So, I called over to see if Rosa Parks had ever received a Congressional Gold Medal, I knew she didn't remember it. And they assured me that she had not. And I said, 'She may not have, but she's getting ready to get one'."

- "Julia Carson is all about getting things done." - Mayor Bart Peterson

Ad Campaign Video for Julia Carson

Buckaroo Banzai across the Eighth Dimension

This is something new I'm trying out. I am going to be posting a blog (every now and then) about some 80's movies I have seen and enjoyed. They are all ridiculous (mostly because of bad 80's fashion), but some of them are ridiculous in a good way. Take, for example, the following movie.

If you have never heard of the movie "The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension" you don't even know what you are missing. Besides who could resist a title like that?

Here is a sample of what you are missing:
* Romance
* Aliens
* A bunch of people with the name John
* Worst Eighties styles ever
* Un-real Science
and...
* Peter Weller when he was young and fucking hot.

The Trailer


If that didn't impress you here are some quotes from the film:
- "May I pass along my congratulations for your great interdimensional breakthrough. I am sure, in the miserable annals of the Earth, you will be duly enshrined." - Lord John Whorfin (played by John Lithgow)

- "Sealed with a curse as sharp as a knife. Doomed is your soul and damned is your life." - Lord John Whorfin

- "I've been ionized, but I'm okay now." - Buckaroo Banzai (played by Peter Weller)

- "Why is there a watermelon there?" - New Jersey (played by Jeff Goldblum)

- "You're like Jerry Lewis, you give me hope to carry on, then you leave me in the lurch while you strap on your six-guns..." - Penny Priddy (played by Ellen Barkin)

- "Buckaroo, I don't know what to say. Lectroids? Planet 10? Nuclear extortion? A girl named 'John'?" - President Widmark (played by Ronald Lacey)

- "Buckaroo, The White House wants to know is everything ok with the alien space craft from Planet 10 or should we just go ahead and destroy Russia?" - Mission Control (played by Kent Perkins)
"Tell him yes on one and no on two." - Buckaroo Banzai
"Which one was yes, go ahead and destroy Russia... or number 2?" - Mission Control

- "No, she's not. Now, let her out and give her your coat." - Buckaroo Banzai
"Why me?" - Perfect Tommy (played by Lewis Smith)
"Because you're perfect." - Buckaroo Banzai
"You have a point there." - Perfect Tommy

Some things you must know about this movie (besides what I already told you)

*SPOILERS*
Buckaroo Banzai is not only a Neurosurgeon, but he is also a Rock star, Crime fighter, Superhero, Genius who is half Japanese (even though Peter Weller doesn't look Asian at all). Did we mention that he is an inventor too?

His wife died, but that's okay because he falls in love with her twin sister, Penny Priddy, who didn't even know that she had a twin! Don't you love those 80's twists?

Perfect Tommy is Perfect.

Apparently all Aliens are named John. Even the girls.

What kind of name do these wonderful crime fighters have for their group? The Hong Kong Cavaliers. ^^

And one of my favorite parts of the movie is the Credits. Why? Because I like the music and its fun to watch the entirety of the crew walking in their bad 80's clothes. Did I mention Perfect Tommy was perfect? Well, he is also shirtless... O.O So, for your enjoyment, the credits!!

Credits


Thus concludes my blog. I'm Sarai, this is my blog and I am out like the Eighth Dimension.

The Real McCoy

Elijah McCoy



Elijah McCoy was an African-Canadian inventor known for his 57 patents and his inventions that helped lubricate locomotive parts.



Some Interesting Facts
* It is believed that the phrase "The Real McCoy" came about because of one Elijah McCoy's inventions. It means "The real thing".

* McCoy's second wife, Mary, was one of the founders for the Phyllis Wheatley Home for Aged Colored Men.

* The National Inventors Hall of Fame in Akron, Ohio, inducted him in 2001.

* One of McCoy's inventions was an automatic lubricator for oiling the steam engines of locomotives and boats.

* He worked as a fireman on trains, where he was responsible for filling the firebox with coal and lubricating the moving parts of the train during stops.

* McCoy's parents were slaves who had escaped to Canada before the Civil War. They moved back to America shortly after the end of the Civil War.

I apparently have a knack for picking people who don't have any quotes to put in the quotes section. However, whether or not Elijah McCoy has any quotes he was still an excellent inventor who changed how locomotives worked during the late 1800's and early 1900's.

Shemar Moore Talks about Elijah McCoy

Welcome to Dentistry

Robert Tanner Freeman



Robert Tanner Freeman was born to former slaves in 1846. He became the first African-American Dentist.

(I know, I cheated, I posted the same picture in differing sizes twice. But the problem is there is apparently only one known picture of Dr. Freeman.)

Some Interesting Facts
* He was the first African-American to graduate from Harvard School of Dental Medicine.

* He is believed to be the first African-American to receive a dental degree.

* He was born in Washington D.C.

* His grandson, Robert C. Weaver, was the first African-American to serve as a member of the Presidential cabinet.

* He was hired as a clerk in a dentist's office by Dr. Henry Bliss Nobel.

* He died at age 27, 4 years after attaining his dental degree.

Unfortunately, there don't seem to be any quotes from Dr. Freeman, let alone quotes on him. All that is really known is that he was one of two African-American students to belong to the Harvard School of Dental Medicine. The other being George Franklin Grant.

The Little Warrior

Willie Barrow



Reverend Willie T. Barrow is a pastor and civil rights activist from Texas.



Some Interesting Facts
* Barrow studied at Warner-Pacific Theological Seminary in Portland, Oregon.

* She was a field organizer for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

* In 1997 a street in Chicago was renamed after her.

* She was one of the founders of Operation Breadbasket during the 1960's which provided spiritual guidance and practical assistance for various communities.

* She holds an honorary doctorate of divinity degree from Monrovia, Liberia. And also holds a certificate in leadership from Harvard University.

* She was married 56 years to Clyde Barrow, before his death in 1998.

Some Quotes from Willie Barrow
- "I love my brother, Minister Louis Farrakhan. The devil don't like it, Chicago don't like it the world don't like it, but we love it."

- "I support Barack because exemplifies a real man. He is a Christian, husband and father."

- "This whole idea of putting our hopes and energies into "leaders" who tell us to seek common ground with fascists and religious fanatics is proving every day to be a disaster, and actually serves to demobilize people."

- "It's all right to get married, but it is better to stay married,"

- "When choosing marriage, one should think in terms of choosing a partner first: then lover. Suppose your love life ended on a dead-end street? You can still survive as partners in a ship of things: home, children, grandchildren, business, church, work, companionship,"

- "Money is a big problem in marriages. But you can solve that problem by having a budget,"

A Video featuring Rev. Willie T. Barrow