In my blogreading, I’ve recently come across a couple of instances where bloggers have spent an inordinate amount of time responding to trolls. Why? Responding will only give the trolls what they are looking for: attention. And, while it may momentarily feel good to respond to them, doing so will eventually suck the life out of you. You don’t owe them a response. Responding will not change a troll’s mind. Doing so will only put you on the defensive in a war of words that you cannot win. Best not to even enter the fray, I think. It’s really not worth giving them the time of day; instead, quietly delete their comments and be done with it. They’ll move along quickly enough when they realize they do not have a captive audience.
Category: Uncategorized
All your colours turn to pale
After nearly a month of dry weather, it finally rained. It’s been unholy dry this summer, so any bit of rain is a relief. But, at this point, it’s too little, too late for some of the trees. Because of the drought, the leaves aren’t turning normally. There is some yellow and orange and red, but many trees–black walnuts seem to be the most affected–dropped their leaves months ago. They just didn’t do well with this season’s lack of water. Many other trees are still green, but the leaves look sickly and are, I think, unlikely to turn color.
The rain started Thursday night and lasted into the weekend overnights, leaving the days overcast, mostly dry, and very nice temperature-wise. It was that lovely, in between weather that is not too cold for short sleeves or too warm for a hoodie.
I was especially appreciative of the coolish weather on Saturday, as Ralph finally showed up to do some outdoor repairs. My deck has seriously deteriorated, and he had promised months ago to put a new deck up. I figured he’d show up one day, out of the blue, and that’s what he did. I suppose I could have just let him do all the work by himself, but that didn’t seem right, so I helped out. His new girlfriend was helping, too, so it gave me a chance to talk to them both and to get to know her. She seems very laid-back, which should be a nice change for Ralph. He certainly seems happy enough.
I also managed to fix my antenna, so as soon as I can get it properly rotated, I’ll have teevee. Wheee!
What to Do
Hurricane Katrina has destroyed thousands of lives. Together, the liberal blogosphere is raising money for the Red Cross fund for food, water, shelter, and transportation out of the Hurricane Zone.
If you don’t know how to decide where to donate money for Katrina relief, you can go to Give.org. The obvious option seems to be the American Red Cross (or call 1-800-HELP-NOW). Or, you can donate to the American Red Cross via the Liberal Blogosphere for Hurricane Relief drive (click on the ad).
Addendum: Also, Oxfam or Second Harvest. Be patient, as some of the above websites might load slowly due to increased traffic.
Some folks are recommending the donation of a day’s wages as a rule of thumb. If you can’t do that, then anything is better than nothing. If nothing else, dig the change out of your sofa or raid your penny jar (everyone has a penny jar, right?). Most towns have local branches of the American Red Cross that will take such donations in person, so you don’t even need to have a credit card or even a checking account.
I haven’t had a chance to see what’s being shown on network news, but from what I’ve heard on the radio and seen online, it’s bad. BAD. Rescue workers cannot get to the people who need help, because armed looters are shooting at them. People who were lucky enough to get to a relatively safe place to sit out the hurricane are now trapped. They’re without food or water in an area that is oppressively hot and humid. The living are confined with the dead and dying, surrounded by sewage- and chemical-laden water. The risk of disease and infection is huge. According to one report I read, even minor scratches and abrasions are likely to become septic in that environment.
I’m horrified at the physical state of things, but I’m even more disturbed at the lack of help the survivors are receiving. I don’t think people really understand that we live mostly on an honor system. We expect people to behave in a certain way, and generally they do. It doesn’t take much external pressure to upset that balance, though, and when that happens, we do not have (and cannot hope to have) the physical resources to ensure that people are kept safe from each other. So much for Homeland Security, eh?
Us and Them
And, now, back to the subject of “us” and “them”. I don’t have cable, so I didn’t see the original broadcast of this, but a few days ago Boing Boing linked to video of a FOX News report, in which the newscaster refers to non-Arabs as “regular” people. Obviously, if you’re Arab, there must be something irregular about you. The mind wobbles!
Social Commentary on Big Brother
I may as well admit it. I watch Really Bad TeeVee. One of my favorite indulgences is Big Brother. Yes, you read me correctly. I don’t have cable or satellite, so I’m stuck with three and a half channels of whatever garbage CBS, NBC, FOX, and sometimes PBS (that’s the “and a half”) deign to broadcast at me. Summer network television is craptacular at best, so I’ve been looking forward to the start of the new season of Big Brother.
I have to say that the first episode was not everything it could’ve been. The powers that be have ordained that this new crop of jackasses should all be young and, I assume, what passes for attractive. With the exception of the lone Iraqi kid, they’re all cookie cutter replicas of ideal American plastic prettiness. I couldn’t tell you one of their names or describe any of them to you. All I recall is a lot of teeth, hair, and tanned flesh.
And I’m not the only one who noticed this fact. The girl who won head of household* nominated the kid from Iraq as one of her two potential evictees. Her reasoning? She didn’t feel a “connection” with him or the girl she nominated. I realize this is a game, but it seems unfortunate to me that she didn’t feel any responsibility for getting to know the evictees.**
* For those who haven’t seen the show, the head of household is decided by a competition. That person holds the HoH position for a week and gets to nominate two people for possible eviction at the end of the week. The rest of the household will vote to decide which of the two nominees will be evicted.
** Not getting to know the evictees is a common reason given for nomination/eviction on this and similar reality shows. Humans really are a separatist, exclusionary breed. It’s no wonder that people over here can’t find common ground with people over there, and vice versa. When that common ground cannot be found between two flesh-and-blood people living under the same roof, it doesn’t bode well for people who exist in the abstract.
Which brings me to another tangent. In high school, I read an essay speculating that human language developed as a way to name and classify things: specifically, us vs. them. It’s much easier to attack another person/group if you can create a distinction between yourself and them. I’ll try to dig it out, as it was fascinating reading. In light of current events, I think it might be good to reread it.
MIT Weblog Study
MIT is doing a blogging survey. If you have a blog and would like to participate, click on the link.
Fireflies
I stayed up a little later than I intended last night. I usually try to go to bed by 8:00 on work nights, because I get up at 4am. Last night, though, I didn’t get to bed until around 9:30. I let the dogs out at nine-ish for their last potty break. It wasn’t quite full dark yet, but the fireflies were unbelievable. Over the past few years, I’ve noticed that their numbers have decreased. Last summer, it was rare to see more than a handful on any given night. Last night, though. Oh my. There were hundreds and hundreds of little twinkling faery lights. It was gorgeous. I sat on the deck, watching them and listening to the dogs wuffling around in the grass. After awhile, the twinkling became hypnotic. It was difficult to determine their relative distances, which made it seem as if space were collapsing. It was an odd, claustrophobic sort of feeling and I was reminded of one of my mom’s favorite poems, Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Renascence.
And, speaking of happy bugs, I discovered a stand of milkweed growing in the scrubby area between my fence and my neighbor’s fence. Yesterday evening, big, fat, lazy bumblebees and some sort of swallowtail butterfly were feeding from its flowers. I didn’t get a picture of the swallowtail, but I think I got one of a bumblebee. If it turned out, I’ll post it. The spangled fritillaries are back, too! I’ll try to get photos of the whole gang.
Scent and Memory Revisited
I normally buy my shampoo and conditioner from the co-op, but I forgot last month so I picked up some cheap Aussie stuff to tide me over until the next co-op delivery. I used it this morning and was wafted back to the apartment Ms. Lea and I shared on West Charles. So, when I got out of the shower, I decided to listen to Opal.
We lived on West Charles during spring semester, so by the end of April we were both apartment hunting and beginning to pack. I remember that spring as being sunny and warm–warm enough that I walked home from the Earth Day celebration barefoot. That day, I was wearing a vintage red paisley mini-skirt I’d gotten from Jayne, along with a black hat that belonged to Chicken-Legs Darren.
Ms. Lea and I were unable to come to an agreement concerning reasonable visiting-with-friends hours (it was also The Semester of Very Little Sleep), but we were able to reach a compromise on music. That spring was filled with Opal, the Velvet Underground, Jesus and Mary Chain, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Nine Inch Nails, T. Rex, Sisters of Mercy, and the Birthday Party.
That was also the spring that Pandora (this blog’s namesake) was born. She’s sixteen now and brimful of piss and vinegar. I had no idea she’d be with me so long when I brought that itty bitty kitten home.
Mowing the “Lawn”
I had planned on spending the day arting, but when I got back from my morning grocery run, I was suddenly motivated to (finally!) mow the, um, “lawn.” (That’s a euphemism for a cocktail of Johnson grass and various noxious weeds. Landscaping, much to my neighbors’ dismay, is not high on my list of “Important Things.”) When that sort of urge hits, it doesn’t pay to argue with it.
Altogether, it’s about two acres. Ugh. I have no idea what crack-addled demon spirit possessed me when I decided to make the dog yard 1.5 acres. Would y’all believe that it didn’t occur to me that I’d have to actually *mow* all that grass? Duh. That’s one silly mistake I’ll *never* make again. Or, at least, not until I can afford to employ a tiny herd of tiny cows to mow it for me.
On the bright side, the cut grass smells yummy. There are tons of weeds, including mint and garlic, so it’s kind of like making a ginormous tossed salad.
The grass was so tall that I had to mow it on the highest setting. So, it’s still pretty tall. And not very evenly cut. But it’s done, done, done, and not a minute too soon. It started to storm as I was finishing up.
Spring marches on…
Belt of Venus
The pink band of light above the horizon, opposite the setting or rising sun is called the Belt of Venus. The lower dark blue band is the shadow of the earth cast upon the atmosphere and is called the twilight wedge. This evening’s sunset wasn’t very interesting, but the Belt of Venus showed up quite well.
red paper boat 