The Rape of the Afghan Women

I don’t like to say stuff like ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so. We are now in cahoots with an Afghan government that is legalizing the rape of Afghani wives by their husbands, pretty much whenever they want. I don’t know what tenet of Sharia law this follows, nor in what passage in the Quran it is mentioned, but I’m pretty sure this just your garden-variety marginalization of women that that world has always been seen, throughout the history of mankind, especially in Muslim countries (usually on religious grounds). This means that not only are Americans sending their money to support an Afghan government that betrays women at the drop of a hat, we are also sending our soldiers to die for it. This is not cool, man. This is NOT okay.

I’m mad. And I’m mad not only in that ordinary ‘someone is pissing me off’ way, I’m mad in a political way, historical way. I’m mad for everything that has been done to women for someone else’s advantage, throughout time. I’m mad for every time anyone has ever said or thought, “It’s okay now—women have their rights and should pipe down.” I’m mad in a profound, visceral, all-encompassing way—because I do not intend to be complicit in ‘trading away’ the rights of women for certain alleged successes. That is not a ‘success.’ And it has been done habitually in the history of the world, and I won’t have a part in it.

We anticipate this happening in Iraq, too. The ascendancy of Sharia law will make it not only harder for women there to keep their rights, but for religious minorities, too. And we have blundered into it, losing 4270 of our soldiers to the ‘liberation of Iraq.’ And countless of innocent Iraqi lives, as well. Who—exactly—will be ‘liberated’? What are we to tell the families of those soldiers who were lost? That ‘they didn’t die in vain’? That their service was wholly ‘honorable’? How can we sustain that lie when a previously secular Iraq will now be demanding veils on women, and keeping them in their homes unless they have men to accompany them? What is ‘honorable’ about that? And you can’t say ‘well, we didn’t MEAN for that to happen’ when it was totally foreseeable, given the religious situation there.

So what do we have in these places that we have bumbled into with some testosterone-loaded plan to vanquish the ‘enemy’ that A) wasn’t in Iraq to begin with, and B) might have been in Afghanistan, but is now in Pakistan, and where we have in fact, helped to continue the oppression of women. We have a mess—that’s what we have. An unjustifiable, unholy, unfair, and undemocratic mess.

I do not hear Republicans taking responsibility for that mess. I do not hear this party that is so anxious for others to be ‘accountable’ for their actions actually being accountable for what they themselves have lockstepped in support of for the past 8 years. In fact, I hear a party that is STILL pushing the swaggering, macho ‘strong (if thoughtless) defense’ mentality that bungled us into these various messes. Well, I am not going to let them carry on as if nothing has happened. What happens to the women of the world may not be very important to them, but it is important to ME. And I will out them at every opportunity.

As is spoken from those who endured a previous hideous outrage of history: “Never again.”

Whenever we deal with countries whose entire cultural and historical pattern includes the oppression of women, we must tread carefully, so as not to entrench these grotesque patterns even further.
That is the very least a ‘democratic’ nation can do.

Intimacy & Boundaries

A situation happened recently that caused me to think about the inherent tension between the psychological need for intimacy, and the psychological need for boundaries. It's a subject close to my heart because I'm a big believer in boundaries. Ask anyone who knows me, they'll tell you I have strong boundaries (some might say 'walls'), and as for intimacy--well--I love having people around that I know well and who know me and accept me as I am.



But it seems to me there are a lot of people who are very reckless with boundaries--always asking very pointed questions about one's personal life, or giving advice on subjects so intimate they have no right treading there. Or else, they're telling you things that are way, way too much information to know about them. Or using your things in a 'what's yours is mine' sort of way. We all know the type, people who are in a big rush to be familiar when you don't know them very well. I really hate that--I hate being in the position of having to find a way to back off--and I hate feeling guilty about doing so.


Maybe it's me.

If you mention the idea of 'boundaries' these people will look at you like they've never heard of the concept before. Especially people in large families, they are so used to having people in their bubble, in their face, about every little thing that the idea of drawing boundaries seems cold and unfriendly, even hostile. Some families operate on the idea that familiarity gives them the right to intrude in almost any area of your life, and when faced with the outside world where boundaries are the order of the day, they find themselves feeling shut out and resentful, when they should feel respectful and appreciative at being informed of the limits of ongoing relationships.

I was one of those kids in kindergarten who had 'shares well with others' written on my report cards constantly. But at home, a different standard applies. My home is my castle, my fortress, my sanctuary. I am jealous of everything in it, its peace, its quiet, and its order, and I don't like people making themselves too much at home there. And the closer you get to my bedroom--the inner sanctum--the more those rules apply.

Yes, I realize there is a metaphor there. You can draw your own conclusions.

But I also believe that my fondness for drawing boundaries makes for easier, long-term relationships. You always know how far you can go, with me, and if you go further, rest assured you will be told so. Conversely, I am always on guard against transgressing anyone else's boundaries, and if I step across, you can be sure that I will have re-assessed the situation shortly, and won't do it again. This is how I am. I make no apologies for it.

But all this watching and reinforcing of boundaries takes a lot of energy, and I often wish I didn't have to do it. However, the way of the world is such that boundaries must guarded--fortresses must be protected.

On the other hand, I might just be overthinking the whole thing.

MySpace, Facebook, & Twitter--Social Networking for What Purpose?

I have yet to discover what good comes of social networking sites. So far, these sites have been time-suckers of major proportion to me. Maybe it’s a generational thing, and young people need a different technology than the one older people have managed to figure out, so that they can feel younger, hipper and more cutting edge. I don’t know.

I do know they use these sites to tell about themselves, express themselves, post outlandish pictures of themselves as if to prove that yes, they DO in fact exist and are having a wonderful time at it, too, thank you very much. Personally, I don’t want that much information about myself floating around the internet. I’m certain that my face will end up on a fabricated body on some porn site. Or I will earn myself a deranged stalker who will for some reason take a dislike to my dog and my cat, and I’ll find the poor creatures trussed up and baked on a platter on my back porch. Seriously, I worry about these things. The whole ‘opening oneself up’ is clearly inadvisable in these times. Just read the news.

Then, there’s the whole political whacko issue you have to worry about. I intend to keep speaking my mind on various venues, and you don’t know what kind of religious and/or political retribution you might incur from some zealot. That’s not paranoia—it’s realistic care, if you know something about those people.

The whole idea of a million degrees of online separation seems bizarre, too. I am connected with people everyone else knows, and everyone they know. The sheer statistics of the occurrence of psychosis in any given society makes this a bad idea at its core. What are we thinking?

And yet, if you have anything to sell, anything to promote, it’s advised that you get on Facebook or MySpace. The risks of rubbing shoulders (no matter how remotely) with unwashed masses have always come in second to the prospect of making money. So I’m out there. In a limited way. Expecting chaos the whole time.

That’s the lure of technology, isn’t it? You just can’t NOT do it when you know it’s out there. It’s the thing that keeps Microsoft pumping out operating platforms that don’t particularly work. It’s the thing that keeps McCain hiring staffers to twitter for him (and yes, we do know McCain and others do NOT send tweets themselves—that strains credulity a little too much). It’s the thing that makes us spend hours hunched over a keyboard trying to download programs, endlessly writing profiles, and keeping secret logbooks of our online user names and passwords.

What hath God wrought? To coin a phrase.

The best that can be expressed about these new ways of interacting was said by a family member, when I asked her what these social networking sites were for. She answered, “I think they’re just another way to send email.”

That, at least, I can grasp.

If anyone out there has found a good use for social networking sites beyond that, please let me know. Until then, it’s out there, and I use it.
I have no choice.

What Is This Thing Called 'Conservative'?

Okay, it has come to my attention that people are throwing the word ‘conservative’ around with abandon lately. I hate when people start throwing words around with abandon, without any respect to what the word means at its heart, in its beginnings, and without any care as to what other people mean when they apply it in actual use. It’s too easy to be dishonest with words—they are often slippery things—and I respect the power of words so much it really rubs me the wrong way when the use of words is used to drive people into misconceptions about themselves.

We are told often that most Americans consider themselves ‘conservative.’ Now, what are we to presume that means? That they wholeheartedly subscribe to the Conservative Agenda as currently stated by the far-right-driven Republican Party? I think not. ‘Conservative’ has a more subtle meaning in the minds of the bulk of the American public. It means ‘not going overboard.’ It means ‘spending money where it counts for the good of ALL citizens.’ It means ‘thinking carefully before taking action.’ It means ‘deeply considering facts before applying policy.’ It does NOT mean ‘blindly following a particular set of ideological points.’ Nor does it mean ‘promoting religious principles through legislation.’ Nor does it mean, ‘ignoring the poor of our country as if they are inherently unworthy.’

If anyone out there has a different idea of what MOST Americans think they are saying when they state they are ‘conservative,’ I’d really like to hear it. I get the feeling Republicans think that this is the handle they have on the public, this ‘conservative’ thing. They think it automatically means THEIR brand of ‘conservatism.’ And they carry on as if they can drive the public into being on their side by simply wielding the word ‘conservative,’ as if that alone can create the voting fervor needed to push their policies through. And in fact, that has worked to some extent in the past decade. That ‘driving the public’ put George Bush into office, and gave him a Republican congress, and the okay to appoint ideological judges to the Supreme Court. Unfortunately, this Republican brand of ‘conservatism’ has served the American public so badly that voters are wondering, themselves, what they mean by being ‘conservative.’

So Republicans just change the position of the goalposts. “Oh, it’s not THAT kind of conservative that we meant—that was just a mistake—a fluke of personnel—we meant this OTHER kind of conservative. The kind you really like—you know—like Reagan, for instance—he was nice—you liked him, right? Yeah, we meant to be THAT kind of conservative.”

I hear a manipulation in that rhetoric. And that suspicion of manipulation is upheld by Republicans’ complete unwillingness to change any of the points in their agenda. That tells me they’re using the classic ‘bait and switch’ tactic. Promise them one thing—give them another.

Or we hear the even worse: “We must be MORE conservative. We should conservative the heck out of everything, go full-out, whole-hog conservative. THAT’S what we meant to do. THAT will solve all our problems!”

That, too is a manipulation. It implies that their policies would work better if only they were done right. And of course, you must keep voting them into office to try to get it right. I don’t think so. The very last thing Americans want is doing something to an extreme, and the second to the last thing they want is trusting Republicans again.

Until Republicans learn to play fair with the public, the public will continue to hold them in contempt and with suspicion. The ball is entirely in their court. I am not terribly hopeful about it at the moment.

I believe America is stronger with two viable parties in its political debate. But the parties have to play fair—keep it real—and not use duplicitous methods to get into office and then run roughshod over the needs of the people. This is the first duty of government—to serve the public—without that, its purpose becomes diffuse and, more often than not, corrupt.

Let’s watch and see what Republicans do. It could be they will ‘evolve’ though they don’t believe in evolution. Maybe that evolution will occur in spite of their belief—as it does in the natural world. We’ll just have to see. In the meantime, their rhetoric is just so much background noise behind a president and a populace trying to solve real problems in the real world.

10,000 Hours

Malcolm Gladswell's recent book, The Outliers, postulates that it takes 10,000 hours to become successful at something. In his book, he cites several people who have become enormously successful because of this concentrated time learning their craft, whatever it may be.
10,000 hours.
The idea intrigues me--it's as if it's been simmering in the back of my brain for some time. The concept first came to me in reference to Bonnie Raitt, the blues stinger and guitarist. And you can say, 'Oh--Bonnie Raitt--well that doesn't seem like much of a measure of success.' But it is to me. Bonnie Raitt was as good as many of the blues guitarists I've heard. And I wondered how did she get that good. A girl! Didn't she spend all those hours pouring over beauty and style magazines like every other girl? Didn't she spend all her time on the phone with friends, dissecting the curious behavior of men? Didn't she spend all those hours in malls, finding that perfect dress that would make her life complete? Where DID she find the time to get that good on a guitar, and find and sing those songs of such profound meaning and relevance?
10,000 hours.
I KNEW it.
Of course, now I feel a fool. I should have been spending the 10,000 hours getting good at--well--whatever it is I wanted to get successful and famous at. And there's the rub. You have to have the overwhelming desire for something before you can get to the 10,000 hours. You have to love something THAT MUCH to put in the 10,000 hours. That is what I lacked--for a long time. I spent the 10,000 hours, instead, looking into lidded,blue eyes of the man I love--memorizing the curve of his cheek and the tone of his voice. I spent it listening to my children's voices as they read to me. I spent it memorizing the sound of their laughter in the other room. I spent it committing to memory the patterns of their thinking. I spent it taking my aging mother shopping. I spent it at family gatherings, listening to the same old stories. I spent it reading, hiking, kayaking, swimming, lying on the beach. Learning to make a gumbo. Taking my dogs for walks, brushing my cat's fur. I spent it working jobs I didn't care about. I spent it following politics.
I squandered the 10,000 hours like a drunken sailor on leave.
But things are different now. I'm dedicated to this writing thing. I'm obsessed with this writing thing. I write constantly--wildly--with abandon. I write about things, I write about nothing. I write, write, write, hoping something will come of it.
10,000 hours.
Perhaps I'll get good at it. Too soon to tell.
I'm only on the 4000th hour.

On Grooming

The whole metrosexual movement among men has really got me stumped. I like clean men, don't get me wrong--but men shouldn't be TOO clean. It's ungodly. It's unnatural. How can you trust a man that's always neat and tidy? How can he go hunt? How can you expect him to bring home the bloodied carcass of his prey? How can he fight the attackers? How can he possibly do the things a man is supposed to do if he's in the habit of obsessing about his appearance? I smell too much cologne on a man and I think 'salesman--be ready to say no.' But that's me. Maybe I'm just Old School.

Then, there are the women who also obsess about appearance, with products, and stylists, and clothing, and plastic surgery out the wazoo (am I mixing metaphors?). You cannot convince me that those women are spending an equal amount of time improving their inner selves as they are in redesigning their outer selves. Time alone doesn't allow it. Lives are busy and everyone sets their priorities.

And some might say, "Well, I have enough respect for myself to make sure I'm well groomed." I'm not talking about "well groomed." Everyone wants to be washed, and cut, and combed, and brushed, and wearing something crisp and flattering. I'm talking about that line that wanders into excess--that division that becomes self-absorbed neurosis and can even become psychosis. It's the excessive focus on the surface of things, and the neglect of all that is beneath the surface. This strikes me the reason for many of the bad decisions we as individuals, and as a society, often make. In seeing the surface alone, we agree to be easily fooled. We become like children, refusing to understand that life is complex and the true situation not always evident.

I know this all makes me sound like a bit of a slob. I'm not. I like pretty things. I like sweet-smeling things. I also like the truth. I also like real meaning.

I'm just wondering if appreciating those things is slowly going out of style. And if it is, what kind of world will we create?

The Lyrics of Scarborough Faire - Eternal Love? or He's Just Not That Into You?

I recently went to a Renaissance Faire. Now, I know what you're thinking, the whole Medieval Faire thing is totally for geeks--but I really had a good time there, what with the costumes and acrobats and jugglers and musicians. It got me thinking about the medieval song Scarborough Faire, made famous in our age by Simon and Garfunkel. Anyone who doesn't know the song should get hold of their version--and also get hold of the lyrics. It's said to be a song about lost love, and contains a riddle wherein the singer asks his lady love to perform various impossible tasks to prove her love for him.

I see something else. I see a guy making it difficult for a woman to make a claim on him.

Scarborough was a town on the coast of England where a huge, 45-day trade festival was once held during medieval times. People from all over England and Europe came to trade at this festival, and it is likely all sorts of men and women intermingled there. The parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme part? Those were herbs from the Mediterranean that were brought to Europe and England in the medieval period. The herbs no doubt figured largely in the trade goods at the Faire, because they had just become popular for medicinal and cooking uses.

So what I'm picturing is this young Englishman who comes some distance to the Faire at Scarborough. He meets a young woman at the Faire, and they...well....let's say, enjoy a moment. Maybe several moments--it was a 45-day Faire. Unsurprisingly, he returns home--with his 'parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme' and resumes his life. Perhaps later, people returning from the Faire tell him the woman is looking for him. He has no intention of returning to her, or having her come to him--so what does he do? He makes up a riddle for her to solve. Do these impossible things, then we can be together. He probably already has a wife and growing family by this time. The very last thing he wants is this one-time fling showing up in his well-ordered life.

'Then she's be a true love of mine.' Not that she IS, mind you. She 'will be.' Hmmm.

Bards went from town to town playing this song with its haunting melody, adding verses as circumstances and inspiration led them to it. But the basis stayed the same. The riddle, the promise that never comes true, the sense of remembrance.

It's not a tale of regret over lost love--it's a song of a past fling and the message, 'Don't come here.'

That's what I make of it. Read the lyrics and background and see what you get.

Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme.