>assumption has begun to destroy the entire world.

>the hollywoodization (and yes, that is an actual word) of crocodile dundee and steve irwin has created an almost comic representation of a common day australian. according to a majority of people in other nations, australian citizens are outback dwelling country bumpkins who wear wide – brimmed hats, tote knives to hunt crocodiles and welcome you with a friendly g’day.

>i cannot recall a single time in my life that i have used g’day as a certified greeting and i – am – australian.

>if i was to subject myself to this theory, subtracting the hollywoodization, i would assume the following:

-all americans are fat.

-all germans are malicious, conniving monsters.

-all swiss yodel from mountain tops.

-and all new zealanders farm sheep and sodomize them.

>how stereotypically cynical…

Dari pengalaman semenjak dewasa ini, saya dapat menyaksikan banyak perjalanan seseorang dewasa ini yang boleh dianggapkan “stereotype” didalam sistem masyarakat kita ini. “Stereotype” atau kesamaan ini saya jangkakan berpunca dari kegagalan sistem pentadbiran ataupun kegagalan seseorang itu mengawal jentera pacuannya sendiri didalam mengharungi deras arus perdana.

Sesetengah yang memacu jentera yang perlahan atau sederhana laju mungkin akan tetap berada di”lane” paling kiri sekali. Yang lembab disini mungkin akan cuba berlagak berani untuk ke “fast lane”, mungkin ada yang berjaya dan di “upgrade” ke jentera yang lebih berdaya saing, tapi sebahagian lagi mungkin akan ‘tergolek’ anjing dan terus tersungkur menyembah sistem yang penuh hipokrasi.

Yang sedang berada didalam “lane yang paling kanan adalah mereka yang berbekalkan kekuatan jentera yang mungkin tak terkalah atau pun jentera yang cukup kekebalan nya untuk memanipulasi kan permainan didalam “fast lane” itu. Tapi apa yang menyedihkan mungkin mereka inilah yang akan men’tergolek’ anjingkan “rider slow mo” tadi.

Jadi mangsa yang dan ‘tergolek anjing’ tadi adakah dia akan dapat menguasai semula jentera nya itu semula dan bangkit semula atau akan terus terkubur. Tentu sekali jika ini adalah sememangnya sebuah perlumbaan sudah tentu di luar litar akan menunggu para-para “bookie” yang telah menaruh wang keatas pelumba nya. Pada yang ‘tergolek anjing’ tadi, bagaimana pula untuk dia untuk membayar semula wang pertaruhan keatasnya tadi, adoyyaii… dah lah nak bayar kos perubatan, bayar wang membaiki jentera… bayar balik wang pertaruhan. Hai.. sepatautnya dikira ‘no refund’ sudah lah.

Seperti yang telah diperkata tadi, ramai diantara kita yang mengaharungi kehidupan ini dengan bermula dengan pengetahuan dan perjalanan yang “decent” pada mulanya, dah pandai sikit akan berlaku sedikit pengubahsuaian gaya, cara dan tata cara hidup pun berubah, ‘cari makan’ pun dah lain. Pada “stage” ini mungkin pada yang bijak akan menjimat yang dikendong dan terus mengejar apa yang mendatang atau pun yang keciciran dari orang lain.

Tapi pada yang ‘lebih terrer’ tinggalkan je yang dikendong tu, ‘rembat’ apa yang mendatang. “Stage” ni pula akan ada yang seperti berada di “starting grid” semula. Kebanyakan “stereotype” berlaku disini, berlaku umpama pertarungan baru, mungkin setelah menimba sedikit ilmu dan pengalaman untuk tampil dengan lebih berkeyakinan. Tampil mungkin untuk maraih semula apa yang telah kekalahan tadi, al maklum lah berbekal pun dengan jentera yang sederhana kekuatan nya. Mungkin perlumbaan kali ini akan lebih menarik dari yang sebelumnya. Siapa tahu.

What inspired me to blog about this is my friend Alex.  She’s Pagan and wears a headscarf.  Whenever we’re hanging out, she’s constantly called a Muslim and has to suffer discrimination because of the association people have made with the headscarf and Islam.  Online, many comment on her pictures with phrases like, “Why do you wear hijab?” and “Go back to your country, camel-humper.”  For the latter, Alex was born and raised in the United States of America.  Both of her parents are European-Caucasians, along with her ancestral tree.  If she’s to go back to Sweden, her ancestral country, then so should other European Caucasians living in the U.S.A.   But I know what they meant – they assumed that Alex was Middle Eastern, because she was wearing a headscarf.  Here’s the funny thing:  She looks nothing like a Middle Eastern should.  The comments made are bloody ignorant.

History lesson of the day:

Before Islam emerged, the headscarf was worn by royal females, as a symbol of majestic declaration and beauty.  It was always associated with royalty.  Along came Islam and the hijab was made mandatory; the headscarf being part of the hijab, and not vise versa.

What is the hijab?

The hijab has many subsets.  One is the headscarf.  Another is the concealment of everything but the face and hands.  The figure of the body is not to be displayed.  Makeup is not to be worn (concealer aside).  A hijabi must hold herself in a modest manner, refraining from dating, touching the opposite sex, and displaying flirtatious behaviour. 

This is hijab.

This is not hijab.

The term hijab and headscarf should not be thought as equivalent.   Not every women who wears a headscarf is wearing a hijab, ergo, someone wearing a headscarf is not always Muslim.  The association should be dropped.

Stereotypes by ~YourStarr137 on deviantART

I have a ‘friend’ (and i use that term loosely) who calls me up on a regular basis out of concern (actually boredom!) for my life, so he could pester me about how much of a ‘bad homosexual’ I am. Its really no bother because it’s really not the first time I’m hearing such a term tagging my existence, but apparently; I’m ruining what generations, prominent gay activists and ‘Britney’ (*ROLLS EYES*) have fought valiantly for; careless promiscuity, endless binges of booze and blitz, the unquenchable quest for fashionable EVERYTHING.

Puh-leaz! My life has got to be something of more substance than that. Atleast I’d like to think so of myself!

It’s not like I don’t party occasionally, It’s not like I don’t indulge in some slutty behavior (occasionally), Hell, its not even like I don’t go GaGa everytime I come across a new fashion magazine (which reminds me, I haven’t found this months..OHnvm!). But are you serious, does being gay mean you become such a void of existence? A vapid conclusion people are too quick to make??

The Gay stereotype that the media is quick to amuse the rest of the hetrosexual world with has done some damage to how the rest of the world perceives us, but has it become such a strong image that even greenhorn homosexuals and lesbians believe that when your gay, you have to be ‘that’ gay? And what about Emo, just coz your Emo, do you need to slit your wrists, just because your a muslim, why does the world think your just going to destroy the whole world with terrorism!?

It’s so silly, but why is it so hard to break a stereotype.

For the sake of individuality~

I hope-and sincerely i do-that my ‘friend’ is the only one who believes that golden image hollywood, culture or anywhere else tells you to be like…

]]> http://everydaylifestyle.wordpress.com/2009/12/23/nhs-prescription-homeopathy-remedies-for-cold-and-flu/ Wed, 23 Dec 2009 01:37:22 +0000 everydaylifestyle http://everydaylifestyle.wordpress.com/2009/12/23/nhs-prescription-homeopathy-remedies-for-cold-and-flu/

昨日、バスから追い出され、雪の中を半時間歩いたせいか、ひきかけの風邪が悪化した。鼻がぐずぐずしてひどい鼻声になり、しょっちゅう鼻をかんでいる。風邪薬を買いに行きがてら、薬局で先日もらった処方箋薬も受け取る（上は以前使用しなかった処方箋）。イギリスでは、処方箋薬は無料。だから特に指定がなければ、価格の安いジェネリック医薬品が処方される。薬代は無料でも、処方箋料（NHS prescription charges）を一回につき£7.20払わなければいけない。なので、成分や薬効が変わらなれば、値段の安い、処方箋の要らない市販薬を勧められることもある。

少し前に街角でもらったフリーペーパー、The Epoch Times（大紀元：法輪功関連の新聞だそうだ。知らなかった！読んだのは英語版）に載っていた、新型インフルエンザに効くというホメオパシー・レメディーをBoots（ブーツ）で買っておいたので、風邪にも効くかなと使ってみた。ホメオパシーが盛んなイギリスでは、ブーツ等の普通の薬局で手に入る。最初に少しの喉の痛みを感じてから、風邪やインフルエンザのひきはじめに効くというAconite（Aconitum napellus：アコナイト、トリカブト／£4.99）を使用。その後数日間は、レメディーのせいか安静にしていたからかどうか分からないけれど、症状は悪化しなかった。風邪がひどくなった今日から、新型の初期流行に最も効果的だったというArsen alb（Arsenicum Album：アーセニカム、砒素／£4.99）が、鼻水を伴う風邪にも効くというので試している。

ホメオパシーは、科学的にその効果が証明されておらず、プラセボ効果以上に効き目はないと言われているのだが、イギリスでは£4000億の市場規模を誇るビジネス。レメディーを売っているブーツ自身、効果はさておき、売れるから取り扱っていると認めている。Mは超科学信奉者なので、ホメオパシーや代替療法は一切信用しない。共に薬剤師である両親も然り。私はというと、プラセボ効果でも何でも、効けばラッキーぐらいに思っている。また他に効果的な治療法や薬がなければ、民間療法でも何でも、すがりたくなる気持ちも分かる。さて、今使っているレメディーの効果はいかに？でも、あんまり効果がない場合に備えて、一応市販の風邪薬も買ってある。

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Probably because I was kicked out from the bus and forced to walk in snow for half an hour yesterday, my cold got worse. My nose is runny and my voice has changed, and I have been blowing my nose  all the time. So I went to a pharmacy to buy a cold medicine, and picked up my prescription drug as well (the prescription above is the unused one I got in the past). In UK, a prescription drug is free, but you pay NHS prescription charges for £7.20 (price from April 2009 to now). and usually a cheap generic medicine is given if you don’t choose others. A pharmacist often recommend to buy over-the-counter drug, if it is cheaper than prescription charge and if the ingredients and effectiveness are more or less the same with the prescription medicine.

I bought two homeopathy remedies from Boots, which supposedly effective for Swine flu, after I read the Epoch Times‘ (free paper founded by practitioners of the Falun Gong – I didn’t now it) article about it. First I had used Aconite (Aconitum napellus) , which can be helpful at the first sign of flu and cold symptoms. My condition had been the status quo for few days – I don’t know because of the effect of Aconite, or because I had been at home kept myself warm. Now my symptoms got worse and I started to take Arsen alb (Arsenicum Album), which is “the most commonly indicated remedy for the H1N1 virus outbreak of early 2009,” as I read that it works for a blocked nose as well.

Homeopathy is not supported by modern scientific research, and it is said that there is little evidence the remedies work other than as a placebo. But homeopathy is £40 million industry in the UK, and Boots admits that they sell homeopathic remedies because “they sell, not because they work“. M believes only science, not homeopathy or alternative medicines – so do my parents who are both pharmacists. I myself don’t mind to try anything as long as it works and safe. I also understand people who find a hope in alternative medicines if there is no other cure. Let’s see if my homeopathic remedy works for me. I bought usual cold medicine as well, in case it doesn’t work at all.

下のビデオは、これを書いている時に偶然見た、グラクソ・スミスクライン社のBeecham（ビーチャム）風邪薬のTVコマーシャル。ちなみに、去年のHSBC銀行の広告でも相撲力士が起用された。肌色を濃くして、目を切れ長に修正した白人がモデルのこの広告が、日本人に対する侮辱的だと在住日本人の間でひんしゅくを買っているとの記事があったが、私個人としては，そんなに目くじらたてる程のことでもないと思うんだけれど。多かれ少なかれ、外国人の描き方にステレオタイプが入るのは仕方ないことだし、Mも日本のバラエティ番組等で「ガイジン」が面白おかしく取り上げられているのが不愉快だと言っている。文句を言う人は、人の振り見て我が振り直せ、というところですね。

The video below is the TV commercial of Beechams, the GlaxoSmithKline owned cold and flu remedy, that I happened to see on TV while I waswriting this entry. HSBC bank also used Sumo wrestler for their advertising last year. But HSBC was under fire as the campaign uses the image of a western man whose skin tone has been darkened and that make-up has been applied that appears to narrow his eyes, and it has upset Japanese living in UK, according to the Guardian article. Personally I don’t think it is a big deal – a portrayal of a foreigner is more or less based on a stereotype, not only Japanese. M complains that some Japanese TV programs make fun of ‘Gaijin’, foreigners in Japanese. At the end of the day, I think any country does the same, or otherwise it would be very boring if everything is goody-goody.

In reflection: I read in a book which stated that a Black woman’s smile and laughter were truly her tears, her pain–Of course, which she has become so accustom to holding in her true self that her ability to shift from smile to laughter while tilting her head back, was her PAIN! When I actually digested this, and thought about myself and how many times did I smile when hurting at the afflictions of black people as if a parody; or at my own stupidity; at the jokes that racist told, to soften the sting; at the realization that my parents were in grown bodies with the cognizant skills of an 8th grader or less; and so much more: I realized that more-often, I was crying when smiling.

Yet, at this time, nothing has triggered the tears as seeing black women raw and naked across America. They, are not only naked, but also devoid of intelligence, and so out of touch that what may perfuse from their mouth is somewhere between rated x and rated xxx. It is sad, to walk down the streets and see a large behind in front of me, exposing elastic crimping and creasing’ strangling. It is stressful, to prepare myself for the world, to find that when I arrived, the world is shocked to see that I am clothed, and feminine, and adorned, loving myself: That I am an enigma because I am clothed, refusing to entertain them! Because I do not wear BET fashion gear; or appear as if I am going to a Fredericks of Hollywood photo shoot during the day. Oh, so very difficult to see it on women over 30.

It is rough! To be a beautiful woman and to engage in public with my husband to be accousted by gangs of old and young black women/girls with breast and hips out, stalking and preying about as if derange and unfit for public mobility. I often feel as if trapped in another time zone and violently abused in the presence of these women–Leering men and other women stare at them and gaze as if in the presence of a strange zoo animal. The flexing of my husbands head, to rebuke the creatures, the huff in his voice, the agitation, rage, embarrassment in his eyes in avoidance and inability as a man to chastise the thing back indoors is a strange thing–To hear a black man cry for the fallen black woman is complex and yet, not new: To console this-this male drowning in defeat, unable to protect (cover) not even his mother– is powerful, indeed.

And, again, this black woman gliding down the aisle with no care of her appearance than to purchase whatever available toxins to cover her demise is a heavy screen to view. Even jewels and finery on her appears strange and out of place; as if a mental patient robbed Saks Fifth Avenue and did not know that underwear are  worn on the inside of the garment and not on the outside with a pair of plastic Payless red knee high boots and a large gold chain she robbed from her children’s education or just one book.

I feel like the Native on the canoe, floating, as the beer and empty chip bags float by in what was once a pristine lake. Yes, my smile is often my tears but not because I have the burden of inheriting a legacy of race hatred and disenfranchisement, because along with that I am invested with the strengths of greatness; yet my tears seem to flow and often on their own because as the Native, there is no one left to clean up the once beautiful lake; people have grown accustomed to seeing the big chip bags floating next to the rest of the trash cans. Because the character of Black woman, draped on videos, and swinging from strip poles, labia flapping as much as her jaws, jingling hips with butt cracks’ that are sometimes forgotten, to wipe, everywhere–she is the epicene of shame.

I have written a note in hopes that she and other Black women think about the fact– that when they are smiling, I see them crying too:

Dear Black woman:

I know, many, your own, your history, your wants, have wronged you. I know, all the dreams that never came true for you. I know you, while trying to work two jobs and support your children– you sometimes still cannot make ends meet. I know that you are often lonely, misunderstood, and that your real story has never been told. I know that you struggle, too, each day to keep your pride and dignity, even when your boss and your own family demand that you hand it over. For all of those Black women that fit into this part of this note, I love you, and we will get through it! I have learned how to stop smiling, when I do not feel like it. I have learned how to accept the truth and know that once you have truly made peace with the disappointments’ in your life, you too, will open up to your self and embrace your past: take the happiness and own it. For those Black women, who are not strong enough to transform their conditions, I strongly beg you: Please do not reproduce yourself; please do not bring anymore babies into this world that you are not ready to love, validate, feed, protect, support. I am laden with the grief, tired with the heaviness, burden with the images of seeing little Black children line up for Aids, foster care, cannot read, malnourished, abused, raped– while you shake your syphilis infected pussy all over the front row of the club! I am tired of you. You have to go! Your fears, your inability to be anything more than what others have told you about yourself, has aided in the destruction of the Black family. You are just as responsible if not more for refusing to do what is natural to a woman, nurture the planet! But you, you nurture nothing, besides the hair on your head and your stretched-out vulva [your pussy girl]. We are asking you to leave–the family. In addition, we do not want you back; until you start to eradicate the damages your wound has cause generations’. Do not write, do not send letters, do not call, you are disowned!
P.S. “Love don’t live here anymore, I want you gone today.”

“Ethnic Lumping,” The Navigators, Debbie Law Schwartz

As Ethnic Diversity is woven throughout our nation, we need to understand and embrace God’s design of the uniquely different cultures and sub-cultures in our country and carefully avoid ethnic lumping of subgroups into one pan-ethnic label.

Within an ethnic group like Asian Americans, there are “A’s” who have Assimilated to and are visible in the mainstream culture, there are “B’s” who Bridge between the mainstream culture and the mother culture, and there are “C’s” who are Culturally connected to the mother culture. If we are focusing primarily on ethnic people who are more assimilated to the mainstream of The Navigators, we need to remember that what we see may only be the tip of the iceberg with much more that remains unseen.

Some of the more unseen ethnic groups in our country are those who are second language learners, recent immigrants (legal and illegal), and refugees. Also unseen are those who have been here the longest, our First Nations people. Those who are steeped in religious cultural groups like Buddhism, Hinduism also go unseen because of their cultural distance from the American norm. Each group, a masterpiece of His creative design, brings unique beauty, culture and gifting to the Kingdom of God.

There are over 100 million ethnic minorities in the USA today. This is over one-third of the US population. The ethnic minority population grows at an increasingly rapid rate. 51% of all babies born today are Hispanic. The minority ethnic population will become the majority in our US Student population by 2023. The face of America is changing faster than expected.

Our Creator God is inviting us to join Him in changing Salvation History for every people, tribe, tongue and nation in our Nation. Understanding these sub-cultural nuances is important because I believe our call is to become all things to all men and women, to every nation in our Nation and to every subgroup within these diverse cultures because the Ethnic Harvest is plentiful in America.

Love how this t-shirt tries to break racial stereotypes of asian women.

The Heap presents a special edition of “From The Desk Of” since I really don’t have the chance to write from work anymore. It has gotten extremely busy these days, especially now that it is the end of the year! So I’ll tell the tale from the comfort of home!

I have stories upon stories to tell thanks to the vast array of interesting people my job allows me to help through the county’s patient assistance program. But this ONE story really touched me. I mean, it absolutely makes you appreciate the circumstances I was born into, how fate had it that I was born as an American during a relatively peaceful time, and how one of my patients was born into extreme poverty in what can be considered a third world country. He grew up during a time of political unrest and ultimately bloody revolution. He lives to tell of the atrocities he has experienced.

A lot of my older patients have a hard time understanding the general process of the program we run, and what exactly is needed. Now factor in that he can only speak and understand Spanish, and confusion reaches a whole new level. Both he and his wife are recent immigrants to the US mainland, so despite their age, they are not eligible for the mainstream government programs. Fortunately, they became citizens and are eligible for these other programs directly from the manufacturers of their medication.

Now let’s pause here and think about this. How bad must things be for someone to leave their country at an old age for a land where you don’t know the language and you have absolutely nothing. You are leaving poverty for poverty essentially, and I dare say that living in an impoverished state here in the US might even be worse than that of Cuba. Obviously, it’s not a question of quality of life. While poverty is not the ideal situation to find yourself in, the US has a rich history of community service and outreach programs. Americans are typically very generous.

The problem is that poverty and dependence on the government has such a negative stigma here (and in particular these days as fiscal policy is scrutinized seemingly every hour!). The situation MUST be dire to leave a place where EVERYONE is poor to a place where not only will you be poor, but you might even be looked down upon due to stereotypic generalization. (This is a rant for another day)

My patient takes a medication called Abilify. It helps with depression, but often causes “spaceyness” and forgetfulness. We’ve faced the same problem with the Abilify program for months. They require a state Medicaid denial letter in order to receive beyond the initial shipment of the medication. So of course, we have the task of calling to remind patients that this must be done in 90 days. Needless to say, there are a good number of patients who just don’t cooperate or don’t understand.

Our patient was one that didn’t understand. So he and his wife came to the office to see what could be done. His wife’s medications were simple enough, and we haven’t really had any problems with any of her applications. But for the patient, there were still some medications pending. To make a long story short, I offered to do the Medicaid application for him online.

So we went back to my office, and we just began to talk. My patient preaches a message of world peace. It’s on the top of his prayer list, as he told me. He grew up before and during the Cuba Revolution. He was deemed as a “government asset” and was assigned clerical tasks instead of being forced to be a laborer. Unfortunately, he lost favor with one of his commanding officers and he was forced to join the military, and was given the task of digging graves as well as digging up graves in search of precious metals. It was a period of extreme fear. He would come to work one day only to learn of the government executing a coworker.

He made it through, and somehow was allowed to immigrate into the US with his wife. He was able to bring his daughter and granddaughter over, and they are all able to get by together. They were lucky, and they know it.

This all happened maybe a month or so ago. What compelled me to write about this was that he called me today to with me a Merry Christmas! And again to stress the importance of peace among countries of the world. I was very touched by this.

How can we get to a state of peace here in this world where differences are grounds for war? Is it an attainable goal? It it plausible to even depend on God / religion as a cornerstone for developing peace among peoples? Especially with the issue of “God(s)” being the very issue that many go to war for?

Can society ever become “colorblind”? This is where John Lennon’s “Imagine” makes perfect sense. All possible categories of difference would theoretically have to be eliminated. Anyone have thoughts on this issue? Does religion have to be part of a solution, or would it further hinder the process? Why does the human race place figurative values on a human life according to category?

This Christmas, spread a message of Peace, Joy, and Love.

Ok. So maybe the title was a little misleading but you’ll see the point in a minute.

Princess Tiana is our first black princess, right? When watching this movie, you’ll see some things that could offend the “racially sensitive.” Like, the toothless character, the scary voodoo woman with African masks and stuff around her, and the fact that Tiana is a frog for most of the movie.

After a little research in the background of Disney’s stereotypical portrayals of people of color, I came across the picture that you see.

Apparently, this BuckWheat-ish character, named Sunshine, was in the movie Fantasia, but was later cut out b/c of the uproar. I won’t make this a long drawn out blog but study the picture. What’s wrong with it? Why did they in fact edit it out and then say, “Sunshine who? We don’t know what you’re talking about?”

I guess we as Black folk should be happy our homegirl Tiana didn’t turn out like this.

by Riyad

What would the biggest challenge be for an aspiring marketer in the 21st century? Well to me the biggest challenge would be marketing to the generation of what we loosely call…. Jackasses!

Feeling confused, stereotyped, offended? Don’t be! The moral deterioration of future generations is inevitable. It says so in our religious scriptures; we are nothing but this humankind of constant moral dilution, slowly moving towards apocalypse! As a smart marketer, you have to stop whining and accept that fact, or else you would be a failure! This rampant generation of Jackasses is perhaps the most important segment for many consumer goods. Look at some of the top brands in the world – Levis, Axe Deodorant, Fast Track and all their ‘disciple’ competitor brand; they all target the same generation! There are video games where kids learn to beat up old people! Want a broader look into this…why not! Look at how the villain characters of the movies over the years have evolved – the deceitful third wheel in a love triangle in the 60s to mad scientists in the 80s to mafia drug lords and bank robbers in the 90s to ferocious vampires with symptoms of necrophilia that we see today.

Don’t you see a trend here? Our moral state has deteriorated over the years at such a rate that movie makers realized they have to lower the bar further more to establish the concept of ‘bad’ to new generation viewers. So be smart; accept the jackass-generation rather than denying their existence. Who knows, may be a future successful tagline for a cigarette brand can be: “Cigarette is bad, but drugs are worse! So be smart and choose slow death over fast death….choose XYZ cigarette today!” Marketing as a career doesn’t look that hot now, does it?

Unfortunately, Scientist in Holland and the elitist have come up with a new way of dealing with the mythology that the world is over populated and that there is not enough food for everyone.

They have finally learned how to grow pork in a soup dish. Scientist makes no qualms who will be the recipients of the tasty, indoor grown swine, the poor– those living in third world countries and of course African-Americans and those of black ancestry who since slavery and despite health warnings still have a propensity for salty pork–

Blacks will be heavily marketed to consume the meat and will eat the meat due to eating and dieting habits which, unfortunately, consist of scavenging through cheap and available ready food choices. Large numbers of blacks still refuse to make healthier eating choices. The lack of education and unhealthy lifestyle choices will leave them targeted for scientific food exploitation; oh, this has already happened. Proper food choice in America, is not a condition of poverty but one of education; however be it your cultural habits . . . choice it is. And yet, still, many educated African-Americans, succumb to dietary ills that urban and poor blacks practice. It will be interesting to see if Oprah will endorse the new scientific swine for Black folks on her new Network before endorsing Obama for another term.

After the scientist and governments have figured out how to packaged the meat to ensure its marketability to blacks, perhaps in a DVD enclosed packaging with a free gift coupon to McDonald to try the new scientific grown pork burger, dazzled among bling- bling lights on the dollar menus; or a pink toy that squeals in little juniors meals–They will promote the new meat by the mother load in transport to the mother land. But for sure, it will press against the ails next to already old and brown hamburger and yellow chickens that line up in the stores in poor and urban neighborhoods. Of which blacks do not own the stores so do not dictate the quality but you can make better choices. Or, it will be your menu choice at the local soup kitchen or homeless shelter?

The greater problem is how will doctors classify a new disease that African-Americans’, blacks, will be tagged with, after overeating and dying from the new scientific pork because of genetics differences –that most blacks know nothing about. And how will Africans, blacks justify the consumption of the scientific quality pork while preferring designer labels, Prada shoes and Gucci bags instead of organic foods.

When the meat comes to your neighborhood, in the future–please chase the pig out.

Click here to see the full article from the Times Online.

This is not an emo poem

because it doesn’t cut itself.

It doesn’t grow out it’s hair.

It doesn’t listen to grunge music.

It doesn’t dress in all black.

It doesn’t seek attention.

It has a reason to be sad.

This is not an emo poem.

You take nothing at face value

and you take everything at face value.

What is the method to your madness?

This is not an emo poem!

Some people don’t embrace the darkness they receive,

They are made to dwell in it.

Emos love to hurt.

Why?

This is not an emo poem.

Suicide is for cowards.

This is not an emo poem.

Poetry is about love

friendship

happiness

and light.

This is not an emo poem.

And some poetry is about hate

enemies,

sadness,

and darkness.

This one is.

But take it for what it is.

This is not an emo poem.

So don’t call it that.

You only drive it deeper into depression.

Not a defence of Jersey Shore as quality programming because, as any common sensical human being would assert, it is equivalent to equating Brooke Hogan to Mozart.

UNICO, the Italian-American service organization as well as other Italian businesses and anti-defamation groups consider the show to be an insult to the Italian-American community and cite the word “Guido” as an offensive word. Although traditionally, the term is meant to depict something offensive, it seems like some young Italians have reclaimed it as a distinct social group.

In the context used by the show, I don’t see how the word is offensive. I don’t think it has the same shock value as the “N” word, for example. Guido is meant to glorify a certain kind of Italian-American 20-something [uber tanned, buffed, done up etc...].

And I also don’t think that it makes the Italian-American community as a whole look bad, it’s  just a spotlight of this East coast subculture. Ya MTV is exploiting the house members and is fishing for shocking reactions for their attempted controversy, but there’s no use in getting up in arms. This isn’t a spotlight on the whole community, and MTV has never attempted to generalize or cloak the show as a documentary, it is strictly entertainment.

The most unfair thing to do is have Italian-American organizations turn their backs on the most loyal Italian-Americans that exist. Sure, the Guido culture is a bit tacky, but there are few other subcultures that take so much pride in their heritage. Mind the cliche, and give them a break, would you?

Or should you not? Thoughts?

p.s. Here’s a piece on the subject from TIME

Sooo… opera.

Opera opera opera.

What do I know about opera? The singer Dame Nellie Melba not only had a peach based dessert named after her, but also swore blind that the secret to maintaining her famous voice was the performance of regular and enthusiastic fellatio.

Here endeth the lesson.

Having just glanced over the relevant Wikipedia page, I think I’ll save the next phase of my quest to Pygmalion myself in the world of opera for when I’m back in London, and when a copy of ‘Opera for Dummies’ (with accompanying CD) will be happily at my disposal.

I’m sure this is how Mozart started out.

Oh yes! I’ve seen Amadeus. That counts for something?

Hm, and then there’s the whole Freddie Mercury / Montserrat Caballe thing…

No matter; it’ll come (especially if Dame Nellie’s involved… nudge nudge wink wink).

My knowledge of opera really is shamefully shallow. Disgracefully so. My experience of opera singers on the other hand… well, of them I can tell you that:

a) they tend not to get very enthusiastic about fight choreography.

and

b) they make actors look stable, reliable and down to Earth by comparison. No mean feat.

They tend to be fairly easy on the eye too (that or morbidly obese).

Am I giving them a bad press? This is generalizing of course… there are absolutely wonderful opera singers out there, ones who aren’t flakey or damaged or ego driven, and I’m sure there are plain ones, and perhaps even dull ones – I just haven’t met many.

Intensity is the order of the day generally. Though is that not true of all in The Arts? At least to some degree. We all have our stereotypes to contend with, and generally there’s a sliver of truth somewhere in them (whether this be chicken or egg is another matter of course; do we perhaps gravitate intentionally towards a stereotype, turn ourselves into what we think is appropriate to help attain internal legitimacy? Well? Do we?).

Opera itself is defined by extremes; of emotion, of tension, of characters, of plot – it only makes sense that those who devote themselves to it, spend their life saturating in the scores and librettos, would come to reflect and to inhabit some of that intensity.

They’re a tad nuts too. That’s an element of it I think.

How much are we defined by what we do? More than a lot of people like to believe. The vast majority of our lives are spent working – if you seriously think the environment, pastime and discipline that you spend most of your life focusing on and indulging in does not significantly affect how you develop or who you are… well I think you’re being a tad naive.

Of course it isn’t just our jobs that define us – hobbies, interests, friends… all these play their part; the degree of each depends on how much thought, time and action gets devoted and where. This said, invariably most of the friends will be colleagues, most of the hobbies, most of the interests, they’ll play second fiddle to work – both in time spent and focus given.

I’m not sure why people don’t like this. I mean, if your focus and and attention is primarily based around something other than work, well then I guess that defines you more… but for how many is that true? Especially after the initial year or two. If you don’t like the idea of being defined by your job… well perhaps you should get a new job? Like it or lump it we ARE defined by our work. We get one life to life (debatable, but this isn’t the arena) and what’s the point in devoting most of it to something you don’t even like to be associated with?

But pah; my thoughts are muddled, my mind tired. I must rest. These topics I’ll gestate upon, and perhaps revisit.

Ciao for now.

-Brice out.

When Jeffrey Dahmer a killer and sex offender, went on a killing spree cooking, eating, and mutilated black bodies, black people recognized this as a degenerate and criminal act. Even though there was evidence that neighbors could smell the decaying flesh wafting through the air, greeting nostrils during the dinner hour for long periods of time before the authorities on these matters arrive to remove Dahmer and his secrets. . . Furthermore, blacks celebrated when Dahmer was murdered in prison.

But Tiger Woods is just another black man with a fever?:  Driving an appetite for white bodies, clown faces, and high heel shoes.  And black people, particularly black women are upset that another financially secured and yet morally devoid, ethnically/identity insecure black male decided to spend/send George Washington his extra dough on the coochy of degenerate white women–They, black women, blacks are outrage, hurt, confused, again?

–There is a cultural shock here or an embarrassment that black people have hid behind the Tiger for another glorified icon, pushing the mail carrier and schoolteacher to scum status again; preferring glitz and glamour to sensibility and stability? Oh, but to numerous black people money is stability despite what you may do to get it. Really, no? Yes, and although the Tiger stated numerous times that he was not black and went so far as to create through removal and dissection a specific and particular name just for himself, Cablinasian, black people in small numbers were offended but the majority enjoyed and secretly cooed about the possibility that this degenerate scoundrel may have created another name for Nigger, Negro, Coon, African American, Buck, Slave, Minority, and all of the other caste and exploits that Blacks have been called; while in denial they hide behind and under weaves, skin bleaching creams, and plastic surgery, and languish each night before midnight drooling over what new thing they can buy so that the dross of negritude does not stink up the planet [sic] Ok. And the Tiger, was always in this quasi league above Michael Jordon and Michael Jackson and the other degenerates, who shoot ball and pussy down faster than the speed of light ( is this not what they were bred to do right in black communities?[ There is no such thing as a black community, people; you mean your black home]): Because the Tiger had emerged black skinned and entered the white man’s game of golf, winning. . .Making people that truly feel ugly, happy that another so-called black man has his balls in his hand.

Ida B. Wells-Barnett (1862-1931) tried to break the complexities of white women and black men down but who was listening back then and who is listening now. At least the Tiger did not get a noose around his neck for doing what comes natural to some of these women– white women have truly come to grips with their true selves and the lust for black bodies:  In open competition for something black women have evidently failed to hold onto in the confines of their private space.  Perhaps only white women can tame a Tiger.   And perhaps truly gifted black women have grown tired of taming the Tigers roaming around the neighborhoods? After-all even when these degenerates are let loose to roam, they often kill, cheat, embezzle, extort, rape, mutilate, rob, outside of the confines of black and brown women; and call it racism while counting their millions/billions.  “It’s Time for Some Football.”

Although he does not have the thick braided cord visible around his neck– The media hounds are chopping at the jaws, and the smell of lynching is musty between the air. . .Billie Holiday, is this,  particular Tigers’ fruit, Strange?

These relationships are not new and they are not very difficult to understand. Some relationships I am sure are mutually and equitable stabilizing for those people entering into them, for the reasons they entered them in the first place to be stabilized from something unstable in them.

The Degenerate behavior of men such as the Tiger; and blacks that portend that they are hurt (the Omen); and surprise over many black males inability to stay and achieve with black women is what is shocking. There are degenerates’ like the Tiger running kaons’ in and out of black homes, neighborhoods, families. The scar is–that blacks just do not recognize what is degenerate when it is sitting in their backyards. Tiger is portraying a behavior, and one that is classified as mentally ill and criminal at that. Let us consider this and not construe the fact that there are now and counting 14, possibly more white women who are disclosing the privates of the Tiger. For those that are trying to declassify him into a sex addict–he is suffering from something much deeper–He has deep identity issues that truly evolved when people of color fragment due to a failure to bond and recognize their legacy/history in the mirror.  It must be awful to face the mirror and believe that your entire life–you have been raised to be a white man–to find out that at best you are truly regulated in this society to a buck–despite your  green bucks–America glorifies the black buck more than the golf game.  Otherwise, you would not have men who should be of prestige–squander and filth the way too many black men do with their money and lives.  You hate yourself to want every white woman in the world to console your inability to deal with your blackness! And you hate every black woman because she makes you remember her inability to deal with her own identity!  What torment it must have been to live inside a house where a black daddy and an Asian mother self-hated until you saw yourself as a different race(race:  a social construct that is a fallacy, make believe, myth).  And there, a grown man with ebony skin–cannot see Africa, not even in the melanin baked onto his scrotum.  Do we have to wonder what doll Tiger would have picked up at the tender age of two only a few more years before his identity was truly mastered–the white doll, or the black one? What caste indoctrination and self-hate was done to create the Tiger’s around us. . .A man that destroys himself, willingly, a personality based on no laws.

Another learn:  anyone that you have a relationship with, bring into your confides of friendship–you become responsible for the sharing and securing of their well-being. To publicly expose your thug-like mentality as a public figure, father, parent, political leader, role model, etc. you are suffering from a personality that is diseased. A behavior that is criminal–why, because to knowingly risk the repercussions of ridicule, punishment, in this case finance, diseases–for desires, gratification, the goods–you are just a Thug criminal in a put-together package being sold off to the world as a shining star. Lap milk for blacks. Only a criminal would rob a bank when the guard has a gun to shoot him–and a criminal personality must have a plan–that is right–a plan to commit the crime. No criminal conducts a crime without a plan–it does not matter how stupid the crime is, or how ill prepared he/she is; they planned something even if it was how they were going to go inside the building; what they were going to write on the stick-up note to the teller at the stick-up point. In addition, did not the Tiger call one of his degenerate females and warn her that the heist and the shiest was expose and to remove her name from her cell phone. He is not only a major player in his caper, but he is a disillusioned thug criminal–to trust, to behoove a false security in which he would believe that his co-conspirators would not expose him in the moment of lifting themselves above the game. Is the Tiger a rational man, or is he just another degenerate black thug perpetrating and penetrating degenerated white women who share his same values and criminal personality? If you look into the history of these women, you will find that they all have exposed their true characters well before they snared the Tiger in his own trap, tramp, and trash. Can you imagine what damage he would do to a black woman who is the least among men in the glorification of women–he would never pay you off girl with money! You would be in the welfare line and tripping with your weave on backwards! He would rob the last visage of your humanity and sanity–because he was raised to hate–hate the blackness.  And every person of color who has not as of yet stop self-hating–will raise up another Tiger, despite affluence and education, lines of demarcation and tree-less lined streets.

The secret:  black women will moan that another white woman robbed the shocking number of unmarried, never married, and too many babies, and diseased, poor, identity ridden, degenerate black women from a good man. Yes for those type of black women the Tiger is your predatory black male–yes predatory male is a criminal terminology–and his MO is to prey on whatever weakness that satisfies his inability to adjust his self-hatred and lack of justices. –Eventually these men will turn your children, particularly, your sons into predatory males too,  just by sleeping in your bed. Fact. Ok. So do not take it too hard, the shock of hearing it straight without a chaser–just look at your family, the prisons, and your schools and you will see them all lined up to prey/pray.  They are coming. . .(Predatory males in low income neighborhoods, prey on poor, uneducated, welfare mothers, typically without social mobility or economic status/protection; look at the waitress and porn circus of Tiger; a man with money).

Stop the cover-up:  and we can solve the Tiger’s issues along with some others. A thug such as the Tiger is not attracted to strong and spiritual women of any ethnic background. He is a fragmentation of an imagination–he is a fantasy–he is not real, nor is he whole enough to cope with the immeasurable task of being a loving father and positive role model. Do not forget that the men who are prepared for this task, most women do not give them the time of day; they do not have the mil to fake you out of your mind. Women like men like the Tiger, and women who are just like the Tiger, will always seek thrills, drama, destruction, and the illusions of womanhood to gain their next meal/mil ticket. You can despise these women for our society created them from the same mold that made the Tiger profess he was not black; they told them instead that they can have everything base on the fact that they are white women; and they consume, and materialize, until they are destroying white families and black families. These women have no more interest in their cultural roots, their offspring, than the Tiger.  One these women are takers, and men like the Tiger are fakers.  And so yes, it is well known that criminals collaborate with other criminals. These women have degenerate sexual appetites just like their co-conspirator, the Tiger. And for all of those women who are crying over the Tiger, and praying that he will one day come back home, you are degenerate for believing that you can change anyone, but yourself.

Tiger is another thug in disguise:  he wears suits, he wears sports wear, he carries a gulf club–that is the only disguise he has and if clothes still create the illusion of wellness and stability, yes, black people still have a long way to go in demanding a higher level of recognition and standards than imagery. Take off Tigers mask and you will only see, 50 Cents, and the rest of the degenerate boy-males who were once prey– who in return are only displaying the outcome of their own psychological ills. It is time to take the covers off the mirror instead of the white sheets.

Below you will find some definitions from Dictionary to describe exactly who Tiger Wood’s is:

Sell-Out: (I thought this definition of sell-out fit the Tiger so well, the black degenerate personality is just like the stock market and the exchange of goods for services; and like a deal gone wrong where you can no longer bargain for security and again you and all that you have are back on the auction block; this is mental illness)

1. When a broker or investor buying stocks has failed to settle the trade in a timely manner and, as a result, the broker can forcibly sell the securities on the investor’s behalf.

2. A person who compromises his or her personal values, integrity, talent, or the like, for money or personal advancement.

Degenerate:

1. To fall below a normal or desirable level in physical, mental, or moral qualities; deteriorate: The morale of the soldiers degenerated, and they were unable to fight.

2. To diminish in quality, esp. from a former state of coherence, balance, integrity, etc.: The debate degenerated into an exchange of insults.

3. Pathology. To lose functional activity, as a tissue or organ.

Have some pride people and mix in some humanity with it!

My new "Kimono Cat" painting, one of my Contest prizes

Everywhere we are being reminded that Christmas is 3 weeks away; some people have been putting money aside all year, others are dreading their next paycheck – knowing they must squeeze a few more gifts from it. Children are great about letting you know what they want (and expect)… the one thing guaranteed not to fall prey to procrastination, they’ve been planning and revising their lists for the last 6 months.

If you’re shopping for someone other than greedy children, however, you might not have a clue what to purchase as a gift. Never fear, every retailer on the planet seems to know what your mother-in-law really wants this year.
One of the most irritating things about commercializing Christmas (for me, anyhow) is the amount of stereotyping you find. Everyone is pigeonholed into a nifty little phrase or a couple keywords.
“My Handyman Husband”, “My Computer Geek Father”, “Our Son the Quarterback”, “Spa and Facial Lovin’ Sister-in-law”.
We wives automatically get jewelry, whether we want it or not… and apparently ALL teenagers love Twilight! It’s only a matter of knowing which “team” they’re on. Pul-eeeeze.

The Today show has been doing segments on gift-giving, and some of their recent suggestions included: beaded clutches, glittery earphones, lacy underwear, a $52.00 make-up kit (and she stated that it did NOT include mascara, lol) and a DVD of “Always Sunny in Philadelphia” starring Danny DeVito. I kid you not. Actually, I think I just described a Philadelphia hooker.

Every year, we plan to NOT purchase any gifts for ourselves, and spend those extra dollars on kids’ presents instead. I say “plan” because I usually crack on Dec. 23rd, and buy him something small anyway. I can’t remember when I stopped counting the number of gift tags with my name on them, but at some point in my teen years – quality became more important than quantity. After my daughter was born, you could’ve wrapped her in a recycled bow year after year… just watching her excited face gazing upon the sparkling mass of wrapping paper and ribbon was MY gift.

The real truth is: Being an adult means you have a job, make money, carry a pocketbook, and have the ability to purchase things you want for yourself throughout the year. Fortunately my tastes are quite simple.

However if we lived in a house built from gold bricks, and lined the litter box with $20 and $50 bills, I might be persuaded to create a Christmas wish-list of my own.
My fantasy gift list would include:

1. A Roman bath-house stocked with my favorite handmade soap from awesome etsy sellers.
2. A pantry stocked with every spice known to man.
3. A resident veterinarian
4. Former Navy SEAL bodyguards for my children

…You’ll notice I did not include World Peace on my list; I doubt any amount of money could buy That, although our governments would like us to believe otherwise.

Oh, you wanted a realistic list? Okay, well then…
1. a basket of handmade soap
2. another (larger) basket of ink for my printer… oooh, and some paper too.
Also, a karaoke machine would be great fun!
I must admit though, at the very top of my list (the only gift I really want) would be a nice evening alone with my Dearest.
No, not Dominic!

Joe and I haven’t had a real date – the whole dinner and movie deal – since October of last year, when Mia had a babysitter and Jacob was in utero. That doesn’t count the few random nights where we stayed awake past midnight after getting the kids to bed – and crashed on the couch with oven-baked pizza and Netflix. We usually fall asleep halfway through both movie and pizza.
I’d like an excuse to dress up… dig the earrings out from the bottom of my lingerie drawer and hopefully still find a match (dig out the lacy underwear, too!), fix my hair, and put on some $5.00 make-up. We’d enjoy the nightlife, eat salty popcorn in a semi-dark theatre with a sticky floor.. and watch anything except a Danny DeVito film.
No offense. I prefer short guys of the Michael J. Fox variety.

Will I get my wish this year? hah, probably not. But you can keep the fancy cashmere sweaters, the pashmina shawls, and the bottles of perfume… There is a black hole in the corner of my closet that will suck any frippery into an inescapable abyss.
I’m sure though, in some parallel universe, an old Norwegian fisherman is probably scratching his bald head at the collection of feminine heels and beaded clutches that keep mysteriously appearing from the wormhole in his cabin.

I do plan to surprise Joe with a gift this year, and yes, it will still be a surprise because he doesn’t bother to read my blog, lol His latest Facebook addiction is the Vampire Wars game, and he hinted that he would like me to paint a vampire cat portrait that he could use as his Facebook avatar. Right now, he’s using Admiral Adama-nic from “Battlestar GalCATica” that I gave him for Father’s Day as his avatar, and he’s received quite a few compliments on it from his FB friends. I’m sure a Vampire Cat would be well received, although it may seem as if I’m jumping on the Twilight-Team bandwagon.

Hey, maybe then I’ll wind up on the Today show’s next gift segment. And maybe I’ll paint a cat portrait of Danny DeVito as Dennis Reynolds. …And maybe not.