One of the Greatest Speeches of All Time

"Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. Mankind - that word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it's fate that today is the 4th of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom... Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution... but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: 'We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight!" We're going to live on! We're going to survive!' Today we celebrate our Independence Day!" ~President Thomas J. Whitmore; Independence Day

(Great spoof of *War of the Worlds*)

Q&A

My father asked me, "Well, what would you do if you were the president; how would you change things?"

My response to that:

First, I would remember who gave me my job. And hence, I would listen to what the people want. I wouldn't keep pushing something that people where so vocal in their opposition. If they didn't want it, I wouldn't keep at it. I would work for the people - not rule the people.

Secondly, I would switch the members of the House and Senate over to a different form of medical/dental/vision/prescription/whatever plan. Instead of having everything paid for and getting the creme de la creme of treatment, they would have the same exact care that everyone else in America has. I would also lower their salary. If everyone else is taking cuts in pay, why the hell would they be getting raises? Now, I don't know the exact amount of every person's salary who works for the government, but they shouldn't be getting paid the big bucks for sitting around on their asses all day arguing about things. The people who do the jobs that are overlooked - jobs like teachers and soldiers and cops - should be getting the bigger checks. Why? Because they do the jobs that are more dangerous - working in some of the inner city schools and even the more rural schools is very dangerous, what with the weapons and gangs and whatnot. I wouldn't pay people to sit and play on their computers all day during meetings that decide the fate of this county. That would be like a student sitting in a classroom playing a game on their cellphone. I would take the phone away and give them a detention.

If the people who work for the government, they can scoot. Sorry. But there's too much corruption in Congress and the House and the Senate for it to continue on like it is. So they can go on and try to get unemployment and social security and welfare and see how easy it would be for them to get on it - after all, they're "highly educated" and "very skilled" and, though some or most might, they don't do drugs. (Just how many of these people - republicans and democrats and independents alike - have read the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights and the Constitution? How many of them say the Pledge? Who the hell cares if it has the word 'God' in it?! So what - if God doesn't exist, then it's just a word - just a word like hell, shit, damn, fuck, walk, run, slide, jump!! It's just something they say in regular conversation!! And if they don't believe in the Judo-Christian God, then use your own god - whatever religion you are. Who cares?! Just show some respect for crying out loud.)

Look - right now, there are still flaws in my plan. And I'm not president. So I have to think about it a little more, but right now I have to get ready for class, and I have to drive. So, there'll be more to come.

Welp...

I feel sick to my stomach - that sour, churning feeling that bubbles up and around. I feel betrayed. I feel berated and belittled. I feel too controlled.

Get out of my life. Get out of my house. Let me choose. It's **my** life, dammit, and I'll live it however I damn well please.

Love me, hate me, damn me, curse me - agree or disagree, but this is all bullshit. Pure, unadulterated bullshit.

What do we do now?

When did government become ignore the people instead of for the people, by the people?

Alright, sure: we may look back on this ridiculous push for what amounts to **my** future in personal terms - and the futures of my nieces and nephews, and the futures of my children, their children, and all the children. Did they not think about the children?

Dear people: we've been going down this slippery slope for quite a while now, and I believe that this is the cumulative point. This is when all goes to pot. This is when we all feel screwed over. And I know that maybe at one point we could see this as something of a good thing, but what makes us - what makes me, anyway - feel hurt and screwed over is that no one listened to me. My voice went unheard. The only "special interest" I have is that I want to choose. So what if I run my life to hell in a handbasket - it's my damn life, you know!!!!

And no, Dear Mr. President, we did not rise above the weight of our politics - you did not hear our voice. You hear only what you want to hear - you are the cause of the premiums that shot up when I opened my mail, just to let you know. And you, sir, can use all the pretty words you want. But I know what they mean without having to reach for a dictionary. And they don't fool me. Like many authors, you, sir, are a very eloquent code switcher. Look it up, if you don't understand or know what I mean.

Mr. President, I am not racist. I was happy that we were able to put a man of color into the highest seat in the country. I did not vote for you - granted - because I do not agree with your politics. As an independent, I am not blinded by what other blind acolytes follow. I do not simply go with one party or the other just because I am with that party. I am one of those people who sit on the fence, and it is your job to tip me one way or the other. Before I vote, before I do anything, I always look up facts - look up what's what.

As far as I'm concerned - right now - I am screwed over. Completely. Because right now, I have to live in today. What about my student loans? Are you going to charge me x-amount more because I have a loan to help me pay for my college? Are you going to charge me x-amount more to help pay for health care? Why should I be penalized for that because I have a loan taken out? Are you going to pay for my food? My rent? What is this that I'm hearing about the student loans sneaked in in this other bill? This - tonight - was the first that I've heart of it. What does this entail? How will this lower my costs? (And no, I'm not being facetious, I really want to know. Someone tell me, please.)

I consider myself pretty open-minded - although my parents would disagreed. Why - dunno. Don't care. It's what I consider myself. Most other people consider me a bitch. Most people who know me know that I'm tough when I want to be, but mostly I'm a big, gooey pile of I-wanna-help-you. Maybe that's why I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. Like someone has spit on me and told me, "Screw you".

I've yet, though, to see what the future holds. I'll try to keep an open mind, but right now, I feel that this is all going to screw us all over. Listen to us, dammit! Listen to the voice of the people! We are the ones who give you your jobs. We should also be able to take them away.

Discovered I Rather Like This...

Yeah, so I kinda discovered that I rather like this blogging thing. And I was watching **House M.D.** the other week - it was the one that had that chick from **Third Rock from the Sun** and played Wilma from the movie **Flintstones: Viva Rock Vegas**. Anywho, she was this huge blogging fan, and she would blog everything. And when I saw everything, I mean everything - whatever went on, whatever new development there was, whatever her boyfriend said to her, it all went on the blog wall. (I hope that I don't get that bad, and I know that there aren't going to be many people reading my blog, after all.) I just that the whole thing was ironic. Don't ask me why; I just did.

And for anyone who knows me, they'll know that I'm a huge fan of **House M.D.**. I'm really happy that they're getting the plot back on track - with the cool medical mysteries.

Speaking of medical mysteries - I've always thought that House was sort of like Sherlocke Holmes. Well, really like Holmes. And I know that I'm not the only one who's made the connection. When you stop and think about it - when you've read both Doyle's series and watched the show, paying attention to the character of the characters, it's pretty cool and really hard to miss. Not saying at all that House is a "ripoff" of Holmes - there are differences, too. But I think what has made the show gain such a "cult following" is the fact that there's a link to the classics.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm just saying.

And there's something really hot about the brutal honesty that House has. Yeah, sure, if I were on the other end of that wit, I would probably cry my eyes out, but it would be really smexy all the same. (And yes, I just called Huge Laurie smexy - he is.)

So is Jessie Spenser. I think it has something to do with the accents. But Laurie doesn't use his accent in the series. But - always the infamous but, that - he does use an "American" accent.

Ok, so, switching topics now - I'm sitting here watching COPS on tele, and they're doing an undercover prostitution sting, and this guy comes up to get what he wants. Now, riddle me this: One - why would a guy pick up a prostitute if there are cops around in the area, and, two - why would the show the face of the undercover cop on national tele? I know that it was probably filmed a while ago, but still. Wouldn't that compromise her in future undercover stings? Plastic surgery can only do so much (not that she needs plastic surgery, just saying). Oh, and three - shouldn't johns know by now that if they proposition someone for sex and they say, "Pull around the back of the church", that usually means that they're going to get arrested for solicitation? And why would johns lie? I mean, if a bunch of cops suddenly swarm around the car right after you pull around to the agreed meeting spot, wouldn't that usually mean that the prostitute that you just picked up be an undercover cop? Isn't that common sense? And her (or him, whatever) being an undercover, you should know that she's going to be wired.

And why would you ever want to lie to a cop - or run from cops? Seriously - they're just going to catch you in the end.

Don't get me wrong - I love watching cop shows - and I have a really morbid fascination with car chases. But why would you risk your life running? Sure, you're going to spend time in jail, but it's not like you have to do anything in jail. Not that I want to go to jail, because that would look really bad on my record - but I still wouldn't run from cops. I laugh at people who do that - I really do. And, of course, I gasp when there's an accident, but I still laugh at the poor dolt who decided that running was the best choice. (It's not a James Bond movie - the cops aren't out to get you. They aren't some enemy agent hellbent on killing you.)

And I like watching the cop shows because it gives you an inside look into others' lives. I know that sounds bad, but sometimes it makes you feel better about your own life.

And then, of course, there's the shows that I call the "Stupid People" shows - World's Dumbest, you know, shows like that. I like to see some of the really stupid things that people do that they think is smart at the time. God, I love alcohol in that watching drunk people do things is hilarious! I mean, watching people do silly things is just great.

Sure, I feel a little bad about the pain that they'll have when they come back to the waking world, but in a way they kind of deserve it. Yeah, not only am I masochistic, but I'm also misanthropic. I look at it this way - if the glass is half empty, there'll be less liquid you'll have to clean up when the glass finally breaks.

Not a very good way to end a session, yanno, but hey - it's the truth. So, then, maybe I'll leave you with this:

If you start laughing at verbs, you've had too much to drink and need to give the keys to someone who doesn't think words are funny.

Cookies

Justin gets all the cookies because he was the only one who got it right! Kenny. Rogers. Yup. Hot, gooey, chocolate chip interwebz cookies!

The Gothic Romance

With all the recient buzz with **Twilight**, I thought that it would be interesting to do something with Elizabeth Bathory, also known as the Countess Dracula. She slaughtered 635 virgin women for their blood to make her stay young and beautiful for forever. Mwahahahahaha. Joke's on her. If that was the case, don't you think that women would stay virginal for forever to stay youthful and beautious for eternity?

(The 635 is according to legend. It's really unknown as to how many women she killed. According to the site listed below, Bathory's records were sealed after her death, and exact information was lost.)

(For the record, any information that I haven't already acquired, was obtained on this site:
http://www.weird-encyclopedia.com/Bathory-Elizabeth.php and will be cited as EW)

Now Bathory was a real scary chick. She would make Edward **and** Jacob wet themselves.

She was said to bathe in the blood of the virgins as well as drink it. Legend has it that one night, while Elizabeth was having her hair brushed out by one of her bedmaids, the maid, a young girl of probably 14, pulled Bathory's hair accidentally. Bathory, outraged by this "injustice", turned and slapped the girl, her ring catching the cheek and ripping the flesh of the maid. The maid's blood made Elizabeth's hand - somewhat old and spotted - turn young and fresh again. Bathory ordered the maid to be taken to the dungeon, slaughtered, and her blood readied in a bath for the Countess.

Now, this was interesting: "It was largely Slovak servants whom Elizabeth killed, so the name "Csejthe" is only spoken in derision, and she is still called "The Hungarian Whore" in the area." (EW) Now, while Ligeia isn't Hungarian, I would still almost argue that she's a whore. And while Ligeia didn't drink blood, she was just as manipulative as Bathory.

When Bathory was still young, she had an affair with a peasent and got preggers. (There was no such thing as the pill or Plan B in those days.) She was already engaged to a Count, so the pregnancy was hidden until after the baby was born. Don't ask me why, but I can see Legeia doing something like that. Sleeping with someone else while saying that she loved poor Mr. Narr.

Poe has made a great attempt (or success) at merging the Gothic and the love story. There's the great bedroom that has the high ceilings and huge window. Something out of a Frankenstein movie - yanno. And that type of bedroom is exactly the same kind that Elizabeth would have had. She was a Countess after all.

And could you imagine the sheer embarrassment and terror that the Count would have felt after Elizabeth's death should she have come back in the form of a new wife if he (Nadasday - EW) would have remarried. It would be a great compulsion for girls to lose their virginity.

"Jane! What are you doing?!"
"The Blood Countess, mother, father. She has come back from the dead in a new body."
"Oh, ok then. Keep at it. Keep it down, though; your father has to market early morn."

How weird a conversation would that have been? But then again, way back when, fathers used to watch their daughters consumate the marriage in the back of the church. I saw it on the History Channel a long time ago, and I never forgot it. It was back in like the 1100's. Kind of freaky, ne?

But fathers would have had much more incentive to wed their daughters for less money than before. I would think.

I don't know why, but when I think of Ligeia, I could see her as The Blood Countess. Maybe not as violent or sadistic, but perhaps as manipulative. Bathory had several lovers durning her marriage, and she would often have them going out to find her virgins to drain. And her husband, the Count, also joined her in her tourters, and showed her various new ways in which to torture her victims.

While I couldn't see Mr. Narr showing Ligeia new tricks, I could see him easily lead by Ligeia's hand. He would be like a little lost puppy. Sort of pathetic. Maybe that's the reason Ligeia came back; he was so easy to lead and order because of his blind love for her, the silly acolyte.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow/ That We Say Goodnite Till It Be Morrow -or- Endings Suck, But It's Never Really The End

Whoot! I have broken my long title record! I think, anyway. I dunno; I haven't looked yet.

Anywho, this was a totally new thing for me. Before this class, I never had a blog, never thought about blogging, and never thought that anyone would read anything that I had to write on a blog.(Meh, alright - so you all kind of have to read what I have to say for a grade, but you don't **have** to; there's no one twisting your arm forcing you to read.)

It's been 11 weeks, but week one seems not so distant. It's that whole Emily Dickinson thing with "Because I Could Not Stop For Death" poem - 't was an eternity but each feels shorter than a day. Yeah, 11 weeks seems totally like a blink of an eye. I don't think I want this class to end. I was having way too much fun in it.

We laughed, we learned, we loved, we cried. Well, maybe not cried. And maybe not loved...

Dude, we loved the literature. And we cried because we loved the literature. There, let's go with that. We had the love of the literature. The love was totally there, and we were so feeling it. We **FELT** it. Felt it deep in our hearts where good literature should be felt.

And we had some pretty darn good discussions/debates. Loved the springboards and the connections we made to the texts. I felt the power behind what everyone said. Sure, maybe not everyone read everything - cool, whatever; totally guilty! - but we were still able to be powerful in what we said. What we thought. What we felt. (There I go again with that feeling...)

From our very first activity with the Puritan witches (Jen, you saucy devil!) to the last with the side-splitting video on Dickinson (you two rocked my whatever color socks I was wearing that day, because I totally can't remember!), we totally started on a high note and (sniff) ended on a high note. We were charged and pumped up and, and **there**.

(Um... was I even wearing socks that day? Is it sad that I totally can't even remember?)

Anyhow, you guys made me laugh, and I didn't feel like I was starting all over again this quarter. What I mean by that is, I didn't feel like I was starting a "whole new school year" like I sometimes feel when I'm starting a new quarter. And I wish that this quarter didn't go so fast. But, you know what they say: The fun moments happen fast and the sucky ones go on forever. Well, maybe not exactly like that, but you catch my drift.

I don't know. We were a family, and we rocked the class, and there will never be a better class in this class than our class. Remember that. Because we rock.

As to what will be my other historical connection: well, I haven't decided yet. Maybe something on Elizabeth Bathory and Ligeia.

I Don't Care Much For Love Poems

I don't care much for love poems - even those of sweet Emily. But Emily's were tolerable. They seemed to say something aside from the "Oh, I love him so" genera that seems to have run so ramped in poetry of love.

There was a poem that I had memorized from one of the Random House books I got from the library when I was younger. It was by Unknown. (Quite a silly name, that.) Anyway, it goes like this:

Around the corner

And under the tree
The handsome Major
Made love to me

He kissed me once
He kissed me twice
'Twas a very naughty thing to do...
But very nice

And sure, puppy love is great and all, but the love that Dickinson spoke of seemed more real. It seemed more like what love is like - the ups and downs and twists and turns and suicidal jumps. The hate that also comes with love. You had those poems like the one about the Major, but you also had poems of unrequited love and unhealthy love and love that wasn't really love. You have angst and depth. And that's something that you don't get with the Major poem - that's all giggles and flowers. It's too happy to seem real.

XXXII

HE put the belt around my life,—
I heard the buckle snap,
And turned away, imperial,
My lifetime folding up
Deliberate, as a duke would do	5
A kingdom’s title-deed,—
Henceforth a dedicated sort,
A member of the cloud.
Yet not too far to come at call,
And do the little toils	10
That make the circuit of the rest,
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine
And kindly ask it in,—
Whose invitation, knew you not	15
For whom I must decline?

As a reader, this poem here almost seems like a trap. Notice the first couple lines - "He put a belt around my life,-/ I heard the buckle snap,"; what's she saying? That whomever she loved had somehow imprisoned her in said love? That loving him wasn't what she thought it would be? Maybe she's not talking at all about herself, but her sister-in-law and dear, beloved friend Sara? Sara married Emily's brother, and mayhap Emily saw that her brother didn't really love Sara or vice-verse. Maybe it was just a marriage of convince. After all, dear fellows, as we were told, Sara was deathly scared of childbirth and intimacy, and she had sought several abortions. (Not that an abortion is bad or anything - it's a **woman's** body and hence her choice to do with it as she pleases; the only person she need answer to is whatever form of God in which she believes.)

When I read this poem, I feel like I'm drowning a little - like I'm suffocating. That love match seems so oppressive - so... I don't know... so bleak. So unlike love. And sometimes there's no love in a match - it could be for money or power or society or whatever but not love.

LII

HE touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast.
It was a boundless place to me,
And silenced, as the awful sea	5
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I ’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air,
Or brushed a royal gown;
My feet, too, that had wandered so,	10
My gypsy face transfigured now
To tenderer renown.

And this poem here speaks of great intimacy. With whom is unknown, just as the 'I' is unknown. Could it be Emily? Could it be her brother? Or Sara? Or her brother's lover? Who knows?! But this poem here seems so much more intense than the Major poem. And it seems so much more real. When you're in true love - or what you think is true love - you feel like you can do those things - silence the sea and rest the streams. You feel that you're changed. And, while I have yet to encounter a love that so moves me to feel as such, I'm sure that you'd know when you felt changed by something.

It would seem funny that she would say that her feet had wandered so, if Emily is the 'I', because she was sort of a hermit. She didn't like to leave her house. And people can say that she was agoraphobic or that it's bullshit (so says the artist in the movie we viewed), but who are we to say. Maybe Emily really was agoraphobic and maybe she wasn't. Would she laugh at the artist? (I think so, even if she wasn't agoraphobic, for the simple reason - Emily seems above her somehow.)

If you don't know what agoraphobia is, go here: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/agoraphobia/ds00894

This is from the Mayo Clinic, and it tells a little about what agoraphobia is. Here's a blurb:

Definition

By Mayo Clinic staff

Agoraphobia is a type of anxiety disorder related to fear. With agoraphobia, you fear being in places where it may be difficult or embarrassing to get out quickly or where you may have a panic attack and can't get help. Because of your fears, you avoid places where you think you may have a panic attack or panic-like symptoms.

People with agoraphobia often have a hard time feeling safe in any public place, especially where crowds gather. Commonly feared places and situations are elevators, sporting events, lines, bridges, public transportation, driving, shopping malls and airplanes. The fears can be so overwhelming that some people are essentially trapped in their own homes — it's the only place they feel truly safe, so they don't venture out into public at all.

Agoraphobia treatment can be challenging because it usually means confronting your fears. A combination of medications and psychotherapy can help you escape the trap of agoraphobia and live a more enjoyable life.

And I should know because I have it to an extent. I don't like places where I can't move as freely as I would like (stores or restaurants), but it's not so bad that I can't leave my home. Sure, when I first started having the panic attacks, I didn't want to leave - I felt almost physically nauseous when I knew I had to go out - but I still went, because the idea of being stuck in my home - as much as I love this house - scared me almost more than going outside, I think. But I still feel a little tight in the chest when I get surrounded by people.

But if Emily was agoraphobic and confined to her home, ok - great, sure; they didn't understand the phobia then like they do today. And if she just wanted to hole up in her home and be hermit-like, great too. It was her life, and we can never accuse her of not living it the way she wanted to live it.

My favorite poem doesn't come from the love section. It actually comes from the Time and Eternity section.

XXVII

BECAUSE I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,	5
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played
At wrestling in a ring;	10
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,	15
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’t is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.	20

I don't know exactly what it is, but this one takes my breath away every time. Maybe it's the fact that it can show an eternity happen in a second, and time is just a human misconception. I don't know, but I think it's beautiful and timeless and great.

And it says to me: "Run up and ring Death's doorbell and run away. He hates that." So, go play ding-dong-ditch with Death. But not like a gangbanger or something - Death, as in the Grim Reaper and The Hooded Skeleton - yanno. Death. And give his horses a carrot or something. They like carrots.