Dear Mr. Ray Kelly – New York Police Commissioner

How could Boeing parts fly into a concrete crevasse when no Boeing hit any building during 9/11 ?

Yes sir you may well scratch your head looking for  answers, you will eventually become a victim of your own deceit!!

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Dear Mr. Ed Davis – Boston Police Commissioner

How could your number one suspect suddendly become the walking dead?

Are you crossing your heart hoping that good lord will not strike you down for this massive cover-up?

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These servants of the New World Order and Master of deceit must be brought to justice

World news has been totally taken over by the New World Order to a point of insulting our intelligence!!

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Having spent my entire life in aviation as an executive in airline operations I find this latest effort to convince the American public and the world that commercial airliners hit the twin towers and the Pentagon has gone beyond ridicule and like all false flags is now insulting the intelligence of ordinary people.

Normal Police  protocol was maintained to some extent and according to the Police Commissioner the FBI, OCMA and NTSB were all called in and attended

Having worked in the aviation environment at many locations around the globe it is normal for the police to secure the scene but to then hand the scene and investigation over to the Air Accident Investigation Board or in the case of the US to hand it over to the NTSB but for sum unknown reason this was not done……why?

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It is important to first view the video of the initial announcement that was so hurriedly released by the New York Commissioner, Ray Kelly:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bUMDXuzbjeY

Note the reference made to the possibility that the part was lowered into position and also he stated that everyone had confirmed there were not marks on the wall whatsoever!!

As they say “Miracles do happen but this one certainly did not”

Let’s look at some of the “Bullshit Media” reports:

The Guardian UK

Landing gear from a plane thought to have hit the World Trade Centre in 2001 has been discovered in a narrow Manhattan alley. The part, discovered in Lower Manhattan on Friday, is thought to have been lodged in the 18-inch space since the attack happened. New York City’s medical examiner’s office must now decide whether to sift soil on the site to look for more evidence from the attack.

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Plane wreckage found in New York alley is from 9/11 jet, Boeing confirms

Medical examiner’s office to search for human remains after landing gear found between apartment building and mosque

A rusted piece of landing gear discovered wedged between a mosque and an apartment building in New York has been confirmed by Boeing as coming from the type of jet used in the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center.

Police said Saturday that detectives had been in contact with officials at Chicago-based Boeing Co who confirmed the wreckage was from a Boeing 767. Police have said the landing gear had a clearly visible Boeing identification number.

The American Airlines and United Airlines planes hijacked by Islamic extremists in 2001 were Boeing 767s. Boeing spokesman John Dern said he could not confirm whether the ID matched the American Airlines plane or the United Airlines plane.

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Let’s just hold it there for one moment:

Three times we saw reference to this being identified as belonging to a B767 and to it being the landing gear and that Boeing had identified it but could not say which B767…………I find it not only incredible for this information to be released so quickly to the public but also the fact they confirmed it was from a B767……..this proceedure is not normal protocol as they normally remove the items found to a special location where Quote Aviation Experts Unquote examine the wreckage for later identification all prior to media announcements…….in this case it was non aviation police forensics that took it away.

I also find it incredible that they were so quick to identify this part as being ex one of the B767 aircraft that allegedly hit the twin towers (which they did not) and yet cannot say which aircraft……….this is extremely easy to do in metallurgy so are they too afraid to be too specific at this stage because of other aviation experts would pull their “False Flag” story apart?

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The twisted metal part – jammed in an 18-inch-wide, trash-laden passageway between the buildings – has cables and levers on it and is about five feet high, 17 inches wide and four feet long, police commissioner Raymond Kelly said Friday………did any of you notice his lack of confidence in answering questions and the fact he gave reference to this object possibly being lowered into position…….this was later changed and yet such a huge chunk of wreckage managed to slip down a narrow slot, many floors below and suddenly jamb approximately one floor up from the ground and yet the original photographs do not show this………..the story kept changing by the minute…..as per every false flag event!!

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The landing gear then suddenly became the assembly that forms part of the aircraft flaps and yet in their own words experts, including Boeing had identified the part by the Boeing part number. This aspect was also rather strange in that after all these years normal oxidization would have taken over most of the debris (which is normal with aircraft parts), especially when within a very large city full of pollution and varying weather patterns from very hot to cold damp conditions and heavy snow………remember the part was at first described as being wedged one floor up and would thus have been open to the environment (which is was not).

My other observation is that this alleged piece (had it been genuine and actually happened) would have moved at a fast rate of knots (like a missile) from the WTC and hit the higher structure next too and above the 18 inch space it miraculous drop down into  marking the wall or going through one of the many adjacent windows……..come on you guys in the CIA and the FBI can’t you invent a better story than this outright bullshit?

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Why did they show this picture when this gap is not the gap they are talking about but the building next door?

Rather well presented NYPD Crime Scene Map (or should I say the crime scene that they planted) !!!

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Then we had the full video footage of the wreckage, as they found it, followed by the dramatic footage of the removal of the part…….don’t you find it rather suspicious that all of this was rushed along in a totally open environment before the part was examined by aviation forensic experts…….rather strange when you compare the parts that were removed from the other false flag at the Pentagon which were hidden under a blue tarp cover…….everywhere in the world the wreckage of any aircraft is treated the same way so why all the intense exposure…….could it be that they wanted us all to believe that civil airliners actually hit the building ?

I find the level of intelligence of these so called intelligence agencies has now become dumber than dumb!!!

I will leave this story at this point because I know that when they read this and many other responses they will again come back with even more bullshit, hoping that all the sheeples out there will accept it!!

This is what the Zionist controlled media had to say about it:

NEW YORK (AP) — Police used a pulley system on Wednesday to remove a suspected 9/11 plane part from between two buildings near the World Trade Center site, and the medical examiner said no potential human remains had been found there.

About six officers raised the jagged, 255-pound (11 5 -kilogram) metal piece, which contains cranks, levers and bolts. They took it over a three-story wall, lowered it into a courtyard, and carried it through a basement. Onlookers across the street took pictures as they loaded it onto a truck headed to a Brooklyn police facility.

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Notice the distinct lack of oxidization

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It is now time to look at the other false flag  currently being played out by the “Black Ops Schmucks” and the police in Boston.

One cannot imagine that the President, Government, authorities and intelligence agencies involved in this total scam false flag continue to bombard us with MK Ultra “Mocking Bird” type misinformation and all the sheeples out there accept it “Hook Line and Sinker.”

Take a look as some of their latest “Verbal  Diarrhoea” which I will again prove is totally false by their own admission both visually and verbally:

1….Suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev died after a gunfight with police several days later. His brother Dzhokhar was captured and lies in a hospital prison.

2….The surviving brother, 19, faces federal charges of using a weapon of mass destruction and malicious destruction of property resulting in death over the double bombing.

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In 1 above they clearly state that Tamerlan died after a gunfight with police but to be more specific the hospital stated the following:

A doctor involved in treating the Boston Marathon bombing suspect who died in a gunbattle with police says he had injuries head to toe and all limbs intact when he arrived at the hospital.

Dr David Schoenfeld said 26-year-old Tamerlan Tsarnaev was unconscious and had so many penetrating wounds when he arrived at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center early Friday that it isn’t clear which ones killed him, and a medical examiner will have to determine the cause of death.

Again lets just turned back the clock when Tamerlan was arrested, strip searched naked and put into a police vehicle…..very much alive!!!!

Tamerlan being guided by Boston Police into their patrol car – naked and handcuffed!!

“Watch you head son and be careful  of the seat buckle when you sit down on your bare butt”

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Then we have the media coverage regarding 2 above where they state “ The surviving brother, 19, faces federal charges of using a weapon of mass destruction and malicious destruction of property resulting in death over the double bombing.

I always thought that the west’s supply of Chemical and Biological Weapons (CBW) to Saddam in Iraq were Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD’s) or the US supply to Israel of Bunker Busters and other WMD’s caused the genocide of  Palestinians and total destruction of the Gaza Strip, as the pictures show below:

The Kurdish Genocide compliments of the US, UK and many other countries

Israeli Depleted Uranium WMD’s used extensively in Gaza and continue to this day

Thank you so much Mr. President…..please excuse me whilst I clean up my lounge!!

Please don’t ask me about Mossad/CIA being responsible for 9/11!!

The Israeli’s arrested in New York by the local police and held for over two days before being deported back to Israel……at least two of these were Mossad agents!!

Here they are on Israeli TV after the event:

Wonder if the Israeli Government has assassinated them yet……….this is the normal outcome for carrying out such a task?

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What was that comment above regarding the Boston alleged bomber and WMD’s…………….perhaps they would have us all believe that a domestic pressure cooker full of nails and ball bearings (or was it Irish Stew!!) could cause such minor damage?

I would have thought that the jointly developed Israeli/South African Nukes that took our  respective countries to war in the Gulf were truly WMD’s – Better ask the British PM, David Cameron as he went secretly to South Africa (with the blessing of Maggie Thatcher and her son Sir Mark Thatcher) to secure the deal and managed to pilfer millions of pounds out of the tax payers coffers at the same time!!

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Sorry I got carried away there for one moment…..now back to the Boston Bombers or should I say Black Ops Bombers.

A more recent report has now gone totally overboard in bringing more people into this false flag whilst at the same time giving even more bullshit lies as to how the main alleged bomber died, which is in total contradiction to the original story.

One must also keep in mind that they first had a Saudi suspect under arrest (who was visited by Mr & Mrs Obama whilst in hospital) and who then went to court but suddenly the court had a bomb threat and their suspect simply disappeared into thin air.  

Then we had the live footage of the police, with guns raised, having the number one suspect lying on the ground with arms outstretched and fingers turned upwards lying very relaxed and very much alive on the ground as seen below!!!

Please Mr. Policeman please don’t strip me as its rather cold tonight !!!

Then again we had the other witness who was directly overhead the scene who on camera stated:

A witness has told how he saw the marathon bomber hurl explosives at police – before one was shot dead in the street.

Andrew Kitzenberg had a front-row seat to the dramatic shootout that happened on his doorstep in Watertown, Boston.

He said: “I was just sitting in the living room and started hearing gunfire outside.

“I went to the window and saw two people behind a black Mercedes SUV with a sedan next to it.

“There was two shooters firing down the street towards what looked like at least six police vehicles.

“They engaged in a fire-fight for a few minutes and while there was gunfire they were also utilising bombs, which sounded and looked like grenades.

“They also had what looked like a pressure cooker bomb. It was about 30 to 40 feet from my bedroom window.

“I’ve seen the photographs from the marathon [when similar bombs were used] and I had a clear line of sight.

“The shooters were separated by about 10 feet and were in between the cars.

“When they used their larger bomb, they threw it towards the officers but it didn’t get near.

“It acted as more of decoy and covered the whole street in smoke.

“At that point one of the shooters ran towards the cops firing his gun while the other got back into the SUV. I saw the guy running get taken down.

“As he went down, the second shooter turned the SUV around and went full speed at the police officers. He went right through the middle of the cars, taking out mirrors and breaking through.”

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The latest reports again show a totally different story which is perfectly normal when the dumber than dumb intelligence services get it wrong and eventually shoot themselves in the foot as per the report below:

Three additional suspects have been taken into custody by police investigating the Boston Marathon bombings.

Boston Police Department announced on Twitter that three more suspects are in custody and said that there is no threat to public safety.

A lawyer said two of the three new suspects are men originally from Kazakhstan who were friendly with the main suspect Dzhokhar Tsarnaev.

Azamat Tazhayakov and Dias Kadyrbayev appeared via video for a visa violation hearing in immigration court in Boston earlier on Wednesday.

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Maybe you are you all starting to feel very sick at this garbage but believes me it gets even better:

Tamerlan Tsarnaev’s relatives will claim his body now that his wife has agreed to release it, an uncle said. The 26-year-old’s body has been at the medical examiner’s office in Massachusetts since he died.

Amato DeLuca, the Rhode Island lawyer for Tamerlan’s widow, Katherine Russell, said his client had just learned that the medical examiner was ready to release the body and that she wants it released to his side of the family.

Police said Tamerlan ran out of ammunition before Dzhokhar dragged his body under a vehicle while fleeing the scene.

His cause of death has been determined but will not be made public until his remains are claimed.

Footnote ……….The Police said Tamerlan ran out of ammo before his brother dragged his body under a vehicle while fleeing the scene!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The plot thickens because one can clearly see that Tamerlan was very much alive and out in the open with the police covering him at gunpoint

Take a look this interview by MSN with the star witness:

http://video.msnbc.msn.com/msnbc/51592798/?from=en-us_msnhp#51592798

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It is obvious that the amount of truther’s and so called conspiracy theorists that very quickly diagnosed this false flag at record speed caught them all with their pants down which then resulted in total panic within and the rapid changes to their attempted cover-up stories…….as you can see they failed in all aspects…………so you may ask what can we do about this?

Go out and arrest them for their massive lies, deceit and where applicable for the murder, assassinations or mass genocide they have carried out over many years…….who are those criminals…….that question is very easy to answer…..here they are:

I guess we can all live in hope that these scumbags, and many more, will have their day in court but I guess that like asking if pigs can fly………at least we may see a couple of them arrested but one could ask the question how do you arrest the New York and Boston Commissioners of Police?

]]> http://thepulpshelf.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/hot-blue-veins/ Sat, 04 May 2013 19:31:22 +0000 weareyourboys http://thepulpshelf.wordpress.com/2013/05/04/hot-blue-veins/ I grew up in a pretty small, uneventful town.  A ‘just-is’ kind of town.  A sleepy, blink-and-you-miss-it, cup-of-tea-and-a-biscuit sort of a town.  But nowadays, I live deep in the hot blue veins of the city.  And this is the view from my bedroom window:

Gorgeous, right?  In that thick, heady, city-ish way that stings a little bit.  I couldn’t wait to skip town when I was a teenager and get to London.  My sixth form years were consumed by my all-guns-blazing, head-down, full-steam compulsion to escape to the big smoke.  But now, having lived in London for 2 years and counting, I sometimes get a little bit… well, I don’t want to say ‘homesick’ because it’s not quite like that.  It’s more ‘homeyearny’ or ‘homelonging’ or something… though neither of those is quite right.  Brooke on One Tree Hill summed it up a lot better than me when she moved back home from the Big Apple to the sticks.  She said: “Ever since New York, I wanted to come home.  I just knew, in my heart, that there was treasure here.  And I found it.”  

It wasn’t in the shiny city that Brooke found treasure – but in ‘dull’ Tree Hill.  I can really relate to this.  When I was a small-town girl, I was much more sensitive to and aware of little treasures.  But now, as an initiated city girl, I find that I’m more difficult to please.  I’m spoilt. And I’m not sure I’m down with that.

But what do I mean by ‘little treasures’?  Well, that’s difficult to pinpoint. The treasure moments of my teenage years, dusty in my memory’s attic, are barely discernible to the naked eye: you have to know where to look.  They’re like those cute titchy cafes nestled on cobbled lanes, or those teeny tiny bookshops you have to hunt the backstreets like a stalking panther to find… they’re these little snippets of life, minuscule flickers of feelings, frozen in time and dignified by my memory’s shutter-release.

In a small town, if you look closely, if you search with earnest eyes and with every droplet of heart-pumpery your body can muster, you’ll find magic in moments that would pass most citypeople by.  You’ll find some special significance in an angel-breath instant that would be as humdrum to a big-town brain as the flossy lilac smog at dusk.  You’ll see gorgeous, rich stories where other people just see plain old events.  Bereft of the glittering skylines, the heaving restless Thames, the hip new hangouts on every corner, a smalltown girl relies on her imagination, on finding inspiration in the selfsame roads day after day after day. She relies on dreams and ideas and the soft sweet fictions of her own mind.  I spent my teenage years trying to punch my way out of my hometown.  Now I fight every day not to lose my smalltown eyes.

But sometimes it’s hard.  Why nurture your imagination when London hands you all that sparkle on a plate?

So I suppose that’s what this blog is all about: maintaining that feeling of magic and awe and wonder in the everyday things – scraping the ice-cream bowl of life clean and relishing every little treasure it offers.  And never losing them in those city breezes that whip up whenever a scarlet double-decker hurtles by.

The life of a 20-Something consists of many exciting events. There’s the first big time job. The first new apartment. The first car. The first real asshole you date. The first real nice guy you date. The first time you realise that these exciting events aren’t that exciting. Well for me I have recently embarked on a journey of experience. I’ve started writing freelance for an awesome magazine. No! This doesn’t not mean I have the kind of job that will ease all my stresses and burdens, not at all. It does however mean I have tasks. Projects. Things to do that prevent me from dwelling on my own misfortunes and give up on life in my early 20’s.

Last night was perhaps one of the biggest, most exciting events I’ve ever had the luxury of experiencing. And I was on the guest list! Now I know for those lucky ones among you a guest list is an everyday kind of jam. But, for a young girl who grew up in the East London being on a guest list that isn’t for a 5 year olds birthday party is a big thing. The event, for which I was working press, was one of those star studded, fashion dripping affairs in which I generally have no place. But, I’d done my research, I’d chosen one of the only La Di Da typed dresses I own and had somehow managed to look somewhat adequate (for a member of the press that doesn’t get photographed).

I went with a date, my amazing friend Mya who, post break up has managed to look more stunning than ever before. I’ve always heard it said that that’s the first sign a woman’s really over someone. When they change their look and start a fresh, thats exactly what she’d done. So, my fresh friend and made our way to a place in London I don’t usually find myself.

The night was one that you don’t see often in London. It was the type of night where conversations are easy, people are approachable and a cocktail dress is perfectly appropriate even when, I might add, just the thought of stepping outside for a cigarette makes you shiver uncontrollably. Last night saw little old me and my, exquisitely dressed friend, rubbing shoulders with actors and actresses, directors and producers. Now, in a situation like this I’m likely to feel intimidated. What on earth do I have to say to an actress who’d starred in 12,000 films before the age of twelve? How can I catch a joke with critically acclaimed director? Am I worthy enough to stand beside a professional cat woman and take twitter bound pictures? I’d have thought not. But there Mya and I were holding our own.

I don’t know if I’d mentioned this but Mya’s an actress. The world of acting’s a tough one and it takes a while before you can say you’re an actress. No one defines how long, how many jobs you need to have gotten, how many films you need to be in. Last night however I was not the struggling, graduate writer who doesn’t know how she’s going to pay her rent next month and she was not  the student who acts on the side. We were simply the writer and actress dressed to the nines sipping on complimentary vodka and energy drinks (nights sponsor).

I’m a close knit kind of girl, I’ve had the same friends for years and though I can welcome people into my life it’s on an acquaintance type ticket. However last night I met a fellow writer, a  New Yorker and  a fabulous one at that. Within minutes the three of us were cracking jokes, flirting with the charmers and planning trips abroad. That only happens rarely but this chic Laura was a cool one.

I’m sharing this so enthusiastically because it’s the first night in a while that London has held my hand, that I’ve felt inspired and excited by the prospect of the future. It was a good one!

Back home and slightly tipsy I sat on my bed in my cocktail dress and thanked the stars for nights like those. All was good although complimentary vodka was the double edged sword! I feel pretty like shite today

Happy Friday!!!!!!!!!

This FHF is well overdue, but like I said in my previous post, things have been crazy! Anyways, school is over and today is my last day of my internship, so I figured a summer themed First Heard Friday would be fitting. Enjoy!

First Heard Friday – 5/3

1. Let’s Go Surfing – The Drums. This band is from Brooklyn, so I thought it was fitting since I’m moving to NYC for the summer. The band’s sound is unlike any other and transports you to a different time. Jam on!

2. Summer Skin – Death Cab for Cutie. So, chances are you’ve already heard of this song, but I had to put it on the playlist because it’s the ultimate summer song. I can’t wait to go for walks in Central Park listening to this.

3. Summer Of ’98 – The Secret Handshake. The man behind this band, Luis Dubuc, is a friend of mine and although TSH isn’t around anymore, he’s still jammin’ in his project Mystery Skulls. This song brings back sweet memories of high school and is perfect to jam to in the car with the windows down.

4. Double Vision – 3OH!3 . This is another one of those songs that just screams summertime. A lot of people have never heard this song, and although I’m not a huge 3OH!3 fan, this song kicks some butt.

5. Summer In The City – Regina Spektor. Another one of those songs that relate the summer and the city. It’s a sweet and soft tune for when you’re having a lonely night and need some comfort. Anything by this lady is great.

After reading the paper and finishing brunch, TG and I opted to go to Fort Tryon Park to do the Crossword Puzzle. Yes, for those of you who don’t know, this is the greatest indicator of my state of being – I now share the NY Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle. Never in my life have I shared that puzzle and had you asked me four months ago, I would have sneered at the mere notion.

But I digress.

Inwood is the hilly part Manhattan and Fort Tryon Park is basically one big-ass landscaped hill.  I could pretend that I’ve spent lots of time there, but that’d be a lie, I’ve been once. It’s pretty. There are trees.

We strolled up and veered towards the east side of the park, TG said he knew a spot with a bench that had a great city view.  While going down the steps towards this perfect spot, it sits lower than the footpath, a woman and her very large, unleashed rottweilerish beast of a dog come into view. By the time we hit the plateau  she and the beast were fully visible.

Please be wearing a bra, please be wearing bra I find myself muttering over and over again. Why? Her arms and belly were bare and her shirt was hanging from the collar like an infinity scarf, the fabric draping casually over her boobs.

With an arm outstretched, and finger shaking menacingly, in a thick Eastern European accent she shouts “What you want see here?” WOOF WOOF WOOF goes the beast.

Rather than run away from the crazy lady, I try using a tone of voice that conveys sarcasm, derision and disdain. “Well, we were going to sit on that bench and do the puzzle, but I guess not.” She points back up to the walking path and commands. “You go there! You go there!” TG  being the smarter one of us two, never made a move to engage, he just held my hand and led me outta there.

When we were a safe distance away we turned around to see what we could see. And there was Crazy, completely topless, doing her stretches in the very public Fort Tryon park. Please note it was not 8am, it was NOON for christ’s sake, and we are not in FRANCE! Go be naked, I don’t care, but not when I want that bench.

So TG and I crossed over to the Hudson side of the park, found a bench with a river view, did the puzzle, marveled at our brilliance and saw a cardinal.

What a city.
NM

it’s (finally) so beautiful outside.

i’m euphoric. !

images brought to you by my new fixed 50mm lens. !
(purchased via my first big girl pay check)

happy may

-The Narrator

What are other peoples perceptions right now?  Are we heading for a new dawn or am I seeing a faltering start from a flat-lining economy?

There is no menu – only one for desserts.

To start is a salad with a hot mustard dressing, topped with walnuts.

Next up was steak, all you need to do is state you preference of how you would like your steak cooked through from blue to well-done. Give me rare please! The best part of dining here is that 2/3rds of your steak is served first, slathered with their ‘secret sauce’ and served with a good helping of crisp french fries, and then when you have finished and you think ‘wow that was delicious, I could eat that all again’ you can because the other 1/3 of your steak is served along with another batch of fresh french fries! My kind of eating!

Dessert was for sharing – and I got to choose. The French Classic: Creme Brûlée. Deliciously vanillary, creamy and perfectly crisp on top. Get in my belly!

Most people don’t know May 1 is an international holiday, in here people make fun of the fact that no one works in Labor Day, a small irony.

There is something you need to know about holidays in Brazil, they are a success among Brazilians, it’s a opportunity to travel with friends, see distant family and the majority like it for the simple fact that you don’t need to work. Especially when the holiday is on a Tuesday or a Thursday, because Monday and Friday can be “Emendado”, a term we use when a normal day becomes a holiday by proximity with the weekend.

If you happen to be in SP in one of this kind of holidays you will see an amazing thing, the city will be empty. Some go to the beaches, others like the country side, but be sure of one thing: the remaining are going to the movies and the parks!

Today’s holiday is on Wednesday, so the city will be full!

Happy Labor Day!

_______________________________________________________________

A maioria das pessoas não sabe que 01 de maio é um feriado internacional, aqui as pessoas zombam do fato de que ninguém trabalha em dia de trabalho, uma pequena ironia.

Existe algo que você precisa saber sobre feriados no Brasil, eles são um sucesso entre os brasileiros, é uma oportunidade de viajar com os amigos, rever a família distante, mas a maioria gosta pelo simples fato de que você não precisa trabalhar. Especialmente quando o feriado é em uma terça ou uma quinta-feira, porque segunda-feira e sexta-feira podem ser emendadas, um termo que usamos quando um dia normal se torna um feriado pela proximidade com o fim de semana.

Se acontecer de você estar em SP em um deste tipo de feriados você vai ver uma coisa incrível, a cidade vai estar vazia. Alguns vão para as praias, outros gostam do interior, mas tenha certeza de uma coisa: os restantes são ir ao cinema e os parques!

Feriado de hoje é na quarta-feira, por isso a cidade vai estar cheia!

Feliz Dia do Trabalho!

Labor Day Party on Anhangabau Valley / Festa do Dia do Trabalho no Vale do Anhangabau

Labor Day Party on Anhangabau Valley / Festa do Dia do Trabalho no Vale do Anhangabau

http://spitalfieldslife.com/2013/05/01/d-day-for-the-marquis-of-lansdowne/

image courtesy of Spitalfields Life
http://spitalfieldslife.com/2013/05/01/d-day-for-the-marquis-of-lansdowne/

And here is the black and white set from the New Orleans trip.
I shot these B & W I didn’t just edit them as B&W.

For my 21^st birthday, I went to Fat Tuesday’s in Atlanta, GA by myself, bought a drink just so I could show my ID, then I passed the drink along to a guy at the bar and I walked out pleased with my new privilege.  I guess you can say, I like to do things for the helluvit, not for the attention or approval of my peers.  Some may have categorized me as a nerd or oddball.  I liked to think of myself as a Rebel Without A Cause.

Because most people think of me as a sweet and fun loving person, I’m sure there’s no picture in their head of me being any sort of a revolutionary.  But my husband knows me well and likes to test the radical side of me once in a while.  So he calls me a few weeks ago while on his break from work and asks “Do you know what the coolest school in DC is?”  My answer was of course, “Why should I care?”  He flirts some more with the question when I finally say, “Sure, tell me.”  “Yu Ying Chinese Immersion School.”  Immediately I say, “Take him out!”  It was just a knee-jerk reaction.  Our five year old attends the school and loves it.  I don’t want to really take him out.  But why does it have to be named the Best School in Washington, D.C.?

City Paper came out with its BEST OF D.C. 2013, on April 12^th.  Yu Ying won the Readers’ Choice award for Best Elementary Schools.  “At this school, ‘the kids are soaking up Chinese like little sponges,’ the ‘community is highly involved,’ getting a ‘top notch education.’  Its ‘the reason to stay in the city and pay high income taxes.”  Oh, how true this is.

If it comes down to it, the biggest reason we stay in D.C. despite how financially challenging it is, is our son’s school.  He has a penchant for the language and my husband has spent much of his life studying the culture and philosophies.  Its a pleasure to enter into the school each day and engage with the teachers, students, staff and other parents.  It truly is a wonderful experience for all of us.  I’m very happy for the school as everyone there works very hard to be an excellent contributor to a child’s education.  But then it becomes part of the “It” crowd and it marks the place where I start getting rambunctious and drastic with my decisions.

It must be fear that sets me moving in the opposite direction.  No one likes rejection and since I resist being part of the “best” party, I usually find myself getting kicked out.

Why do I resist?  When something is considered “the best,” then the competition kicks it into another gear and the easy, relaxed, wonderful experiences begin to diminish.  All of a sudden, things start changing, heads inflate, rules get stricter, security gets tighter, standards or maybe its quality that drops, prices rise through the roof and some folks find they can’t keep up.  Thus, they get forced out.  Then everything and everyone is trying to do and be the same because everyone is doing it.  It looks a lot like gentrification.

Let’s just be frank, D.C., once upon a time, was crowned the Murder Capital of the World.  Now it’s the Best Place to Raise a Family.  It’s absolutely a beautiful thing to live in D.C. now.  But I remember when attending college in Atlanta and telling someone I was from D.C.  The jokes, the looks of horror, the endless questions like “do you have to wear bullet-proof jackets to school?” (which sadly wasn’t a joke).  I can be proud to say I live in D.C. now.  So what’s my beef?  I’m not all that against the city having such an illustrious title.  Its just having this whole “who’s the best” contest within the city that seems unnecessarily divisive to me.

Sure, Eastern Market is a super special market.  But its been here forever.  Well, built in the 19^th century is close enough.  It’s the oldest open air market in the city.  How can you compare it with other markets that have just started in the last 10 years or with those that serve a different population like the one at RFK Stadium Parking Lots?  You can’t really.  Each market has its own personality.

So many of the “bests” aren’t actually The Best but rather, the Most Popular.  As soon as you say something or someone is the best, then everyone wants to be apart of it and it quickly gets smaller so the premium goes up.  People begin getting pushy to get a piece of what’s popular and eventually the experience gets to be a bit lackluster.

Not everything is like that, but in my life, this has been true for quite a few things; Five Guys, Adams Morgan,  American Idol…  (actually Five Guys is still good, I’m just selfish sometimes when my favorite food places expand). I get wanting to build a following, a readership, a clientele.  Many businesses deserve to grow and be known.  But there seems to be a not-so-thin line between a genuine relationship with consumers/audiences and blindly going with the flow because everyone else is doing so.

I also get that City Paper was basing this contest on opinions,they do it every year.  But I don’t get why.  I’m thinking the contest should simply be put out there as D.C.’s Most Popular and leave it at that.  Don’t tell me that one thing trumps another just because someone I don’t know says so.  I have a few friends who didn’t see the value in sending their child to Yu Ying to learn Mandarin.  It was not an important factor in their child’s growth and development.  If you ask them, they would say their child’s school is the best.  We picked Yu Ying because we wanted to learn more about Chinese culture.  Plus, our son just seems to have a talent for speaking the language.  It was “best” for us.

How about the Best Bar?   Other bars offer something different from Wonderland Ballroom.  I have had some memorable fun times there because I love to dance, but I stopped going once I felt it was getting too crowded with unregulars (people who heard it was the coolest bar to go to in the Columbia Heights neighborhood).

Now my opinions are pretty unpopular, I know.  Businesses love the attention they get when they get City Paper’s kind of recognition.  Its more than just word-of-mouth.  I’m sure there’s no love for my kind of marketing which I would consider Marketing for the Greater Good.  But here’s what I would like to see happen:

I think next year, City Paper should do something different to bring attention to ALL of the hidden and tucked away neighborhoods, people, businesses and highlight each and everyone’s personality, or identity.  In other words, highlight their gifts to the city.  Make it as diverse as a multi-lingual, -racial, -personalities family can get.  Every member in your family is a character, right?  Well, if not yours, definitely mine.  We might not like all members all of the time, but its what makes us flavorful.  And at the end of the day, those very different flavors make us family.

D.C. should be represented as a family.  Each quadrant has its own characteristics, its quirks, its brilliance, its dark sides.  But we are all apart of the Nation’s Capital and there’s something to be said about that.  We should be embracing all members of this family, accepting what each brings to the table because its all good.  How many flavors has Baskin and Robbins?  There is something for everyone, yes?  The old heads, the hipsters, the politicians, Lee Lee and Pookie as well.  That’s what D.C. should be represented as, in my opinion.

So this is a challenge for City Paper:  Stop sending roves of people around town who only look forward to having nothing more interesting to say than “Have you been to Dupont Circle?  Its the best neighborhood to dine in.”  Really?  Give us something different, offbest and just as flavorful.  D.C. is just too small to be trying to pull that besties nonsense.

I’ve said it before, some days I think about leaving D.C. because its hard to live among folks who are out to make it THE PLACE to be.  But then I think about all the great things here.  People, places, things to do that aren’t on the grid.  It is the unseen, unheard of, the uncool that keeps me here.  Yet, all it takes is a silly popularity contest to push me to the edge.

Beet Risoto garnished with turnip greens and goat cheese.

In which:

• Boenksie plays ball
• We decide, Sad but True, after a Struggle Within, that going to see Metallica is The Thing That Should Not Be
• We manage to avoid being in a horrible car accident, and I count the millions of blessings that are bundled together in one small boy

Monday, 22 April: What an irritating sort of a day, missioning and hassling and erranding and wasting time.  Outside of things I needed to get done for work, my to dos were: to buy my Spoenks a winter jersey and top because we are finally, after being unbelievably spoilt, reaching a wardrobe crisis, particularly in light of the rapid onset of winter chill; to buy Chris’ belated birthday gift of a coffee machine for Joburg; to buy a toaster because boy oh boy do I love toast; and to look at ovens and fridges and dustbin and such exciting things.  Along the way I managed to lose one if his (borrowed) shoes, get stuck in road blocks three times and behind a broken-down truck once, and to do the tour of Makro thrice.  We joined lovely Candace for lunch, where Beebop sat in a high chair for the second time, playing and eating avo yums and the menu. My favourite giggle of the day was that during an interview on the radio regarding Zuma’s sending troops to the CAR, he stated exasperatedly that in this matter there really just were “so many answers, and just not enough questions”. The little Blinksie was so inconceivably sweet and easy throughout this hiccuppy’nuseless day that I kissed him flurryhurriedly a thousand times from head to toe and shouted out how lucky I am, and watched my beautiful butterbean sleep while I worked.

Tuesday, 23 April:  I was going to rush early to the farm, but thought to rather stay around to let Bimbimbeep see his grandmother, so we had chance to have brekkie at Nice with my darling Faiz, who fed the little eaterBean so sweetly, buzzing him around but giving him neat little mouthfuls and producing smiles all the whiles.  My mother babysat the little boything while I went to a meeting in Hyde Park, and he threw a massive mid-mall tantrum, causing much consternation all round.  Naughty Bederfie.  Apparently many passers-by chided her for the lack of dummy, causing me to read up again on the goods and bads of dummy use, which research left me even more firmly in the no-dummy camp.  We drove back to the farm a little flustered but arrived to a beautiful sunset, and took the boy for walk down the runway, only to be buzzed by a small plane that is using the runway for practice.   I climbed into a 7-foot hole Chris had dug in his field in preparation for a demonstration by a precision farming group coming to visit tomorrow – it felt a little eerie to be six feet under, but interesting to see the roots and smell the soil and feel the cool stillness of the earth.

Wednesday, 24 April:  Oh just a worky day – I missed my boyboy so much, after having spent so much time right by him for a good long time now, I felt so sad and faraway handing him to Becca to play while I worked.  I’ve been working in the evenings mostly in Joburg, after he’s fallen asleep, so that I can spend the most time with him.  But he loves Becca, and he’s going to be fluent in Sotho and put me to shame.  Petrus came to visit for the demonstration, and he and Chris were in a bit of a bad mood about the market being limits down and about having failed to sell when they should have.  I have to sell the Metallica tickets because, as exciting and fun as it sounded at the time, it’s not really a fair option with the Boenks and we can’t justify going to Johannesburg for it.  Damned shame, I would have loved to have seen them.  I cooked yummy carrots and feta and coriander, but poor Petrus (who once had a new girlfriend come to visit him for the first time for a weekend, and his only catering was to provide a sheep’s carcass, only to discover she was vegetarian) pretended politely to eat it and went and snuck a meal in a takeout in Bothaville on the way home. Boendlebops discovered his dad’s stash of superhero figurines and spent a good half hour making the sweetest little bird sounds while paying with them, but I mean properly playing, changing them from hand to hand and pulling their limbs and sticking his finger in their eyes, looking up with smiles and returning to devouring them with determination. 

Thursday, 25 April:  We had a busy but peaceful day, the highlight if which was a giggle’ndelightathon caused by a game of fetch initiated by Dom’s dog Schnookums.  Our Boenks screeched and squealed and chortled in delight as I helped him kick the ball to Schnookie, who scrambled hyperactively to find it, yelping excitedly and slipping on the cement floor, causing a frenetic combination of fascination and fear in the Boenks, whose little head spun and twisted at a fearsome speed with Schnooks’ every move.   Chris very sweetly looking after the walking, dinnering and bathing of the Beemziboeps while I did some work that needed to get out.  After spending the loveliest happiest time with his dad, he had a complete meltdown.  Chris and I had started watching Capitalism: A Love Story (one of the worst movies I have had the misfortune of seeing in a loooong time) and – as he seemed to be fast asleep – I had hd a glass of wine, when he woke up and started screaming.  I went to comfort him, but didn’t want to feed him because I don’t want a 6-month old wino.  But eish but this little sprog is a boy of some temper.  As sweet as honeysuckle as he is, I’ve got to say that when he throws a frothy, he sure does throw a frothy:  bending his knees to bring his feet together to his chest, he winds up to administer sharp two-legged kicks to the irritator du jour, demonstrating impressive fast-twitch fibre development; he screams with such rapid crescendo that he is quickly hoarsened but continues puce-faced, bashing flat-palmed to demonstrate his angry rejection, immediately thereafter grabbing at the most convenient appendage or tether (nose, ear, mouth, hair) and mangling as appropriate (twisting, pulling, entangling), his beautiful little face contorted in a comic-strip caricature of baby-faced distress.  And he does not, will not, let up until he has been presented with that which his indulged little heart desires, most often one warm bosom.  Said bosom being denied results in a progressive escalation of dementia.  Thank heavens for Express-o-nana – we gave him a little bottled love and he fell asleep cradled between us, sweet face uncontrolled and angelicism restored.

Friday, 26 April:  We spent ages debating gate options for Joburg – Chris is cleverly piecing together bits of old gates he has on the farm, and we were trying to decide which operational option best balanced our price/security/prettiness preferences.  Work was pleasantly punctuated by a visit from our newish neighbourish, Bheki (Shannon’ replacement at Dramatic Need) and his son, Lim.  Again Chris took evening charge of the Schpoenks – my heart near burst when I walked in to see the two of them lying chatting babytalkishly in the bath.  We   watched Silver Linings Playbook which I was quite enjoying (it was like a less charming and quirky Endless Sunshine) but was a pirated version and had “property of the Weinstein company” emblazoned across the screen and ended unceremoniously in the middle of a random scene at the Philadelphia Eagles stadium (movie was filled with reminders of life in Philly) which was a little more than slightly frustrating.

Saturday, 27 April:  In mourning for the lost Metallica tickets (we gave them to Sean to thank him for his fetching a and carryings and favours), I made misters Botha senior-and-junior listen to Master of Puppets, Enter Sandman and And Justice for All in bed, and taught the Beebimbop to headbang.   We went to Thornvale to collect a fridge – yayyyy! a beautiful cream Smeg that needs fixing but will be so lovely in Joburg – and encountered one rinkhals on our way in (we didn’t see it but were alerted to it) and another on the way out (this one we saw – he was next to the road, and raised his cape and slid in full swell across the road in front of us).  The farm is so beautiful, and Chris found an unknown wild white flowering bush that smelt of spicy vanilla honey and dust, and whose blossoms looked like little starshaped potatoflowers.  We went back to Rietpan, past the flamingo-pan, and went and had sundowners (well, a cup of tea and coffee respectively) by the dam while the Spinksybobbin played and rolled and pushed his way around on his picnic blanket and got the sweetest red nose from the chill. Chris and I watched a deeply disturbing documentary called “The Imposter” about a young man who pretends to be a missing boy who is then returned to the lost boy’s family who does not – in their desire to have their boy back – recognise that he is an imposter.  Chris and I were both spooked and did not sleep very well. 

Sunday, April 28:  My heart felt near splintering when I left the farm to go to Sherissa’s birthday picnic, after a comfortable and cosy Sunday morning with messrs Botha.  I had a bad feeling and almost turned back but thought that a little indulgent and childish and carried on, only to have my reluctance proven justified:  I witnessed at very close quarters an awful accident that we magically managed to escape being caught in. A car was tailgating me in the fast lane, so I passed between two cars – with a very reasonable space between them – into the slow lane to make way for him, but the car in front of which I pulled in decided immediately that he wanted to overtake me and, without checking the fast lane, veered into the accelerating tailgater who then swerved and lost control, veering at top speed off the road into the wide median rolling twice, catapulting car-contents confetti-like all round, bouncing over the hedge in the median to roll another halfway and land on its side on the hedge.  All of this happening right behind and beside me, with my precious cargo of my little angel, as well as Dom’s dogs, all of whom calmly lay as though nothing were happening. I was convinced from the speed and impact that all of the passengers must have been dead, but immediately two young guys popped one after the other out of the sky-facing side-window, jumped up and down and dusted themselves off, leaving one woman injured in the back seat, but apparently not badly. What I could not believe was that the guy who had veered into them and caused them to swerve just drove off.  I saw him – a huge moustached man with his chubby family – as he pulled back reactively into the emergency lane, slowed a little, checked out the car rolling, and sped off.  Eventually the police came (after one police car had passed the scene without stopping) – they were not interested in either taking my eyewitness account or listening to my recommendation that they scrutinise the toll videos (we were a few hundred meters past the toll gate) to identify the swerve-and-runner – as well as an ambulance, and our little four-bodied mini (thanks, still, to Dom) drove off unscathed with a very grateful but quite shell-shocked driver.  Before this, I had been driving thinking about how existentially odd it is that Bleepbleep is living in a time of his life that will not exist for him in his own memories, a time in which his identity will only be confirmed by the memories of others.  The picnic was absolutely lovely:  the autumn leaves and the bright slight chill and the weddings and.  Blinkieblinks pushed a big pink ball backwards and forward to Sher.  He met Gibrael – Jow and Wendy’s son – for the first time.  Gibrael was soooo sweet and interested in the relative littleness of the Boenks, and was most fascinated to see someone else being breast-fed (he was a little confused and thought perhaps that the Sputnik would like some Melrose cheese instead).  In other developmental news, I was very impressed at the Boenks for stepping out of his trousers while I was undressing him (his least favourite activity after sitting in the car seat when he feels like doing something else) today.  That seemed very grown up to me.  He continues to play indefatigably with his tongue, to imitate the purr of cats and squawk of birds, and the pffft of his own little farts.

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fXWjuwlpEo