Beware the Kiwi

Wacko Lou Sheldon of the Traditional Values coalition shows up on the radar once or twice a year, but I must admit I've not taken time to actually visit his site very often. It's interesting not just for its obvious targets -- homosexuals, "abortionists" and any Democrat, female Democrats, of course, being the worst. Of particular amusement was a transcript of a speech Hillary Clinton gave to Planned Parenthood that is supposed to shock us, and it does only in that it reveals a voice and platform that is so sane it's hard to believe it came from the United States.

Sheldon has also adopted the term "radical homosexuals", which I've heard a number of his ilk use in references these days, as if they have finally learned that just saying homosexual these days is not going to upset enough people.

However, it's particularly interesting to see that he is attacking Nancy Pelosi for turning the Congressional cafeteria "green" with healthier food selections. As Mr. Sheldon's rant states:

Her edict has replaced Jell-O with raspberry kiwi tarts and mini-lemon blueberry trifles. Buns have been replaced by baguettes.

Not everyone is happy with Nanny Pelosi’s changes. The food is fancier and the prices are higher. In addition, the stirring sticks for the gourmet coffee nearly melt-down when put in hot liquids. Coffee cups have been replaced by “ecotainers” and the cafeterias serve “free range chicken.” Meatloaf has been replaced by mahi mahi.

One Republican aide wrote: “I really don’t like Nanny Nancy telling me what I can and cannot eat for lunch. If I want to eat unhealthy, I should have that choice.”

Personally I think the right wing Republican "radicals" should be allowed to continue being offered all the artery-clogging fried slop they can consume. It certainly helped off morbidly obese Mr. Falwell, and we could hope more of them find their way to an early grave following his example instead of Mike Huckabee's. Isn't there something in the Bible about the body being a temple and that it should be respected? Never mind, I guess they don't take it literally when chowing down on those dough nuts and deep fried cheese.

Written on the Walls and the Road

How many of my days forever lost sitting in muddled dread... ...that a monster will arrive in my mailbox, yet it never came.
How easily I fell into such a funk.
I let time, weather and neglect take their toll before light returned and I left these furnished rooms to stroll out the door.
I look at faces on the street, but they all seem to be the same.
Oblivious to a growing hunger that even I can not satiate.
The rhythm is there, but sealed and shrink wrapped.
Yet it beckons, piercing like a diamond needle in the ebony vinyl night.
"Rats," I mutter, muffling my rodent-infested rage that simply scurries, nibbling away at scraps as night approaches.
My thoughts wander back to sticky, sweet fields of corn...
...that empire I left behind so many decades ago.
Do I even remember that name?
And can I be transported back to such grace by the most random smile from a stranger on the street?
We can save the daylight a few weeks more until November arrives, but I know what happens as those sparkles command the sky at twilight.

Befuddled diamonds, or are they just glistening glass to cut at our tires?
I try to ground myself in the aqua marine shapes ahead... ...convinced that it is for me they reach.

(Inspired, in part, by the great archives of Reya Mellicker's Gold Poppy)

Affirming Contradictions

In your journal list your contradictions. Don't try to justify or correct them just now, simply list them. ..

Ew, I always hate this exercise. I already know most of them.

Perfectionist -- Pack rat
Privacy obsessed hermit -- fame and attention whore
Perfectionist -- typo slinger, speed writing freak
Vegan -- sushi addict (and not just avocado rolls)
Perfectionist -- sloth
Pacifist -- foul mouthed, road rager screaming death threats behind the wheel
Buddhist -- Christmas schlock addict

Okay, the entire perfectionist thing is really getting at me this month as I am not travelling until after Labor Day and have been embroiled in both work and personal "time to get the systems in order" mode. July was strategic planning month at work and it sort of spilled over into real life, as in trying to answer the "what's it all about" question. I'd had that question answered once after a massage in Bali and on a mountain in Nepal, and it was that it was about being in that moment.

Now August is sort of the "tactile planning" month, mapping out specific dates all that I plan to accomplish between now and June 30 (work fiscal year end, and usually a personal turning point). So the perfectionist and slob are sort of crashing against each other right now since it requires having piles of projects and things to be sorted all over the JunkPlex. As single person abodes in San Francisco go, the JunkPlex is pretty spacious, but any pile of "to do" stuff is always crazy making for me. And it seems that the place is usually at its tidiest once I've packed my bags, ready to head out the door for a long trip. If I burn up on a plane crashing into the Rockies, the people walking into my place would be deluded into believing I led a decidedly orderly, perfectly organized life. Well, that's what I'm always moving towards, but the wheels required to turn it to that point move so slowly.

[The photo does not relate precisely to the post, but we'll say it's JunkThief about to be crushed by the churning wheels of perfection. Actually it's part of his latest experiment of channeling some of the works of Cindy Sherman. Needless to say, he's very dissatisfied with it since it's far from perfection, and he may abandon the whole project. Bleh, bleh, bleh.]