Burning the Hajib

hajibBurning down the cloth house. Have you a shred of a chance of realizing all that you know in your heart are your dreams withheld, stifled, lost? And does this loss, what you have already lost and what will come, does it resonate anywhere? Or do your struggles as women rise and disappear like waves in the ocean, what does one woman matter, in a world you know is Wrong. Misguided, stupid to the core. Could you do better with one little finger than the men you refuse to call, anymore, leaders. And don’t you have to live with the terrible obviousness. Your perfect skill to find the moral balance midst conflict. Isn’t it all a big pissing contest, no more than gang behavior … and aren’t you, as a woman, with your maternal, familial skills, aren’t you the hope of the world?

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AP – Wichita, Kan. The man accused of shooting a Kansas abortion provider to death jesus_dinosauras he handed out programs at a Sunday church service … said he appreciates the prayers said for him and his family in the wake of his arrest. “I haven’t been convicted of anything, and I am being treated as a criminal …”

“I want people to stop and think: It is not anti-government; it is anti-corrupt government … He said he was concerned about how the media attention was affecting his family … particularly his elderly mother.

“I appreciate your prayers,” said Roeder

How nice. How awful damn …

Wait, didn’t┬ásomebody die? At your hand? Killed?

Is there no end to pathological narcissism?

Whatever. Jesus loves you. Maybe.

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“Just Like Me”

… what is the ability to think in radical fashion?

I’m blogging one Salon article, here, but as you surely already know, these exact heartfelt remarks are all over the web, which means (unless Rove and his web operatives have been busier than I think) they are all over the America that goes to the Safeway, eats crap food and likes it, and works their collective ass off in order that the rich shall get richer.

The blue-collar life is for shit, it is physical labor connected to pay in a way most people reading this cannot or prefer not to imagine. In other words, the most vulnerable of lives.

Vulnerable in so many ways … And to a man, or woman, resistant to the kind of knowledge that might inspire them to at least attempt kick over the traces like workers and workers before them.

Oh rue the day the Marxist critique departed American life. Continue reading ““Just Like Me””