Naiad

Today is a breathtaking gift of Nature all rolling green with her azure cap and puffy cumulus feathers. Wandering away from my house, I encounter brick-painted, huddling homes from two centuries ago built by immigrant Irish who saved a few pennies and built a new community in a triangle a couple miles removed from the death-stench stockyards of their employment. Today there still exists a few Irish and Poles but now it is mostly comprised of upwardly-moblie Mexican nationals who have yard sales on Saturdays and fiestas on Sundays.

The triangle is bordered by Archer Avenue (formerly the Road to Widow Brown's) which reaches out from Chinatown into the wandering desires of Resurrection Mary. This is the southern border of Mount Pleasant, which settles along the river. The Chicago River is now the home of haunted steel mills and scarred ports. Most of it is vacant although the passing trains graon on their tracks day and night like a grandfather on the porch warning against the transcience of our values.

Here, the river itself is spanned by several suspension bridges still studied today by rapt mechanical engineers. The river, far below me, appears in the sunlight as a chunk of amber hiding in its depths some winged prehistoric creature. With its ornaments of railroad ties and ordered train cars and abandoned factories and graffittied granaries it stands in stark contrast to the lake it flows from -- divorced from natural union by dynamite. Once I visited her here among the broken factories and prarie flowers and I came back with a baby. Once I led a parade to meet her at her contrived lake source and dyed her the color of envy.

I am never far from her for long.

I'm Shipping Up to Boston...

Just got back from Boston. I was sent there on business, but it was my first visit. It's a great town. I would happily move there someday.


Mostly, I worked my ass off; but I did get to go to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. I spent an afternoon wandering around, visiting historical monuments, etc.

Part of my family lived in Boston for a couple of years between Ireland and the Homestead Act -- so I kind of enjoyed squinting my eyes and imagining the streets as they were when my ancestors arrived.

Just in case you wanted to know, John Hancock is enshrined beneath an approximately 10 ft tall snow white, circumcised penis, with his silhouette placed near the head like a slightly off-kilter, giant Prince Albert. (A Hancock headstone in the shape of a penis IS kind of appropriate, don't you think?)

I also spent my semi-insomniac nights in a strange (if comfy) hotel working on my Sarah Palin impersonation. It's such an excellent impression to do, because once you get the voice down, you just mimic all of the stupid/scary/ crazy shit that Dogmatic Geography Quayle 2.0 keeps spouting.

I have lots of political stuff to discuss -- like the complete diplomatic breakdown between the US and 3 South American countries, the financial crises, our Biblical Plague weather conditions and Sarah Palin's precocious pre-schooler's grasp of ethics, the Bush Doctrine and foreign policy -- but I've miles to go before I sleep. So ta-ta for now!

Oh, and of course... here is the little tune I sang to myself the entire time I was in Boston.

I'm a sailor peg
And I've lost my leg
Climbing up the top sails
I lost my leg!

I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping up to Boston whoa
I'm shipping off...to find my wooden leg

If That Ain't Country ...

Some friends asked me to drive a couple hundred miles south to help them out at their bar. I used to work there and it was the day of the town festival and they had 2 bands and were going to be short-handed.

So I went.

I had to work with a 22 year old (she was good) and I haven't tended in 3 years. Boy, have I slowed down. Also, a lot of the teenagers I used to keep an eye on (boyfriend's kids, nephews, etc.) are old enough to go to bars now -- which made me feel old. Also, a couple of them had me inventing or improving on crazy cocktails, but I enjoy the art of mixology.

Also, my ex-boyfriend's ex-wife (who in the past stole my morning sunshine more than once or twice) showed up in this white sarong midriff-baring thing (which she shouldn't have been wearing) and ordered a 57 Chevy with Rasberry Pucker instead of amaretto because it "makes it smoother" and she wanted it free because it was her 43rd birthday (HAH! she's still older than me) and she bossed me around through the whole operation so I told her she had to show me her license and prove it was her birthday. I'm generally easy-going, but don't lets start the bitch contest. I'm too competitive. Anyway...

Oh, did I mention there was a band who played covers of 80's "Metal" and wore wigs so that they looked like a hair band? Have you ever noticed that nearly all of Bon Jovi's songs are identical? I kept thinking they were playing the same song all night, but when we were cleaning the bar at the end of the night I read their set list and noticed it was actually supposed to be several different Bon Jovi songs. They did play a nice cover of "Crazy Train" and I am not too embarrassed to tell you how much I like that song.

Okay, so then these cowboys ambled up to the bar and ordered lemon drops. They were real cowboys in dark Wrangler jeans, button-down embroidered chemise shirts, hats, belt buckles and boots. So I asked them if they wanted Stoli or Absolut (these were the only call vodkas -- although we do carry a dozen brands of various whiskeys) SO


Cowboy 1: Don't you have Citron? You're supposed to use Citron.


Sirena Cum Tender: I know, but I don't have it. Don't worry, I'll squeeze lemon in the shaker, instead. It'll be yummy. (under her breath) Damn, my shaker's full of banana shit shots. (Mixes shot impressively in 2 plastic cups and rolls lemons in sugar for neatness and ease. Sets shots in front of customers.)

Cowboy 2: (Regarding the sultry and efficient bartender from under the brim of his hat.) This ain't your first goat-roping, is it?

SCT: (Shakes her head.) Nope, been to quite a few rodeos, too.

Cowboy 2: Well, usually when I say that to a girl she just looks at me all wide-eyed and wall-eyed. I can tell you're as down home country as it gets. (He smiles winningly.)

SCT: (Mouth spreading slowly in a wicked grin.) Yeah, but the irony is I was born and raised in the city -- I spent some years living in the sticks, but... (She giggles. Cowboys 1 & 2 swallow their booze and scurry away. She giggles some more and gets back to work.)

I spent Sunday with good friends. They have a barzebo in their backyard, and we spent the day sitting and talking and drinking a box of wine.

Oh, except we drove through the main drag to pick up some beverage reinforcements and they had yellow ribbon placards posted on the streetlight poles. In a town of 400, at least 12 are fighting overseas. That's 3% of the population. This was one of the sadder parts of my weekend.

And that's the whole cock 'n' bull story, more or less.

"Holidays In the Sun"

I don't wanna holiday in the sun
I wanna go to New Belsen
I wanna see some
History cause now
I got a reasonable economy

-- Sex Pistols

I've got a recruitment meeting with the Chi-Town Sirens at 7 pm.

(I'll bet you thought I was kidding about that. You owe me 5 dollars.) I think I'm going to like these ladies, because we are meeting over these

I'm not going to work tomorrow. You can't make me. Instead, me and some of mine are piling into the car and hitting the highway.
We do have to make a quick stop on the way to enjoy this most tasty treat.
These are the things I'm going to be doing for the next few days.

I won't have time nor inclination (nor technological capability) to blog. Please consider this your postcard and have a great weekend.

Betrayal

Poor Odysseus traveled for 10 weary years to be reunited with his Penelope. Oh, how nauseatingly romantic. She sat silently weaving at home while he fought a war to determine who got pissing rights on Helen of Troy. He sailed the Mediterranean and had a couple of LTRs with strong women. And where would Odysseus have been without the kindness of those women with large hearts and larger ovaries -- magical women of strength and passion??? Instead he ran home to namby-pamby Penelope, who never did anything interesting at all ... including support Odysseus.

I shouldn't rag on a weak woman for being pragmatic. She was limited by the reality of life as a mortal female in Ancient Greece. Odysseus WAS gone for 17 years. Yet it seems that all she did in that time was weave and fall victim to suitors. They moved into her home, plotted against her son and she just sat there -- passive and weaving.

How did Calypso feel, after taking care of Odysseus' dumb, wandering, arrogant ass for 7 years? He just up and left her for Penelope. Who was this love of his life? Why did he abandon the women who stood with him when Poseidon and logic betrayed him? (Speaking of that, what kind of sailor would piss off Poseidon? Is that an examle of Odysseus' famous wisdom?)

I don't believe that Calypso imprisoned Odysseus. That stuff Homer said about him crying in the day and falling madly in love with her at night? I think we all know what that's about. Zeus understood that Odysseus didn't want to leave Calypso's Cave of Delights, so he sent Hermes to convince Calypso to build the man a ship and send him home. Off he went, only to be wrecked for about the hundredth time by Poseidon.

What about Circe? Sure, she turned his men into pigs according to the (misogynist) Greek version of events. (Since when does a woman need sorcery to turn a man into a pig?) They were in love and she bore him a son. Before he left, she gave him all kinds of useful advice, including access to the underworld and thus safe passage -- since Poseidon had it in for him. And so Odysseus betrayed another strong woman who came to his aid so that he could go home to simpering Penelope.

Oh.... but Penelope was a romanticized ideal of a good wife who was set before us as a metaphorical example. Faithful Penelope who tricked the suitors so Odysseus could finally reclaim his rightful place as king of Ithaca ... thank Athena her epic hero showed up at the 11th hour. Otherwise, who knows...

But I don't hate Penelope. I hate Odyssesus for having acted like such a chicken shit and his betrayals of the women who helped him through 10 years of travel.

I hate that I have insomnia again. Over the years, it seems that I've come to the aid of several of the sons of pain and at least one of them should be keeping watch so that I can sleep tonight. But they've all set sail for Ithaca and tonight they're either holding themselves or namby-pamby bitches (read: not me). I am so very tired.

Siren Song
Margaret Atwood

This is the one song everyone

would like to learn: the song

that is irresistible:

the song that forces men

to leap overboard in squadrons

even though they see beached skulls

the song nobody knows

because anyone who had heard it

is dead, and the others can’t remember.

Shall I tell you the secret

and if I do, will you get me

out of this bird suit?

I don’t enjoy it here

squatting on this island

looking picturesque and mythical

with these two feathery maniacs,

I don’t enjoy singing

this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,

to you, only to you.

Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!

Only you, only you can,

you are unique

at last. Alas

it is a boring song

but it works every time.

Dubai-bye

After bilking US taxpayers for at least several billion dollars a year (since '03) while feeding spoiled food and fecal water to our troops and in the midst of investigations by the US Justice Department and the SEC, Halliburton is moving headquarters and CEO from Houston, Texas to the Jebel Ali Free Zone in Dubai, UAE.

I guess they don't feel they should have to pay taxes. After all, they work and earn for Cheney -- don't forget he was CEO of Halliburton from 1994 - 2000. He stepped down to help rig W's presidential election. He still sits on their Board.

Anyway, great news for Puppet Master Dick -- with Haliburton moving to Dubai, they'll be perfectly poised to distribute all of the oil they're planning on stealing from Iraq and Iran under the guise of protecting the world from terrorists. (See map below. Please note the Dubai, UAE is a free trade port city located on the southern end of the Persian Gulf -- quickly and directly accessible from Iraq and Iran.)

It's time to impeach Cheney and fire Halliburton. Contact Congress ASAP.

WW III? WTF???!!!???

"The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich SUCKS D*** " Fugees "The Beast"

And to the left (literally, not idealogically) we have Newt -- notice how he surreptitiously plays pocket pool while contemplating "the early stages of WW III."

Okay -- so far this entry has been vulgar AND immature, but come on!!! Evidently, while I was having a fun, peaceful weekend with Nora, Aunt Dawn and Welches et. al., Newt Gingrich managed to get his Neocon pimp rap on the political talk circuit with soundbytes such as this stinky gift:

"I, I believe if you take all the countries I just listed, that you’ve been covering, put them on a map, look at all the different connectivity, you’d have to say to yourself this is, in fact, World War III." Gingrich on Meet the Press, 7/16/05

The countries he's discussing are North Korea, Iraq, Lebanon, Iran, etc. But why do I just get the sensation that the Neocons are out to start a holy world war in order to make money for their pocket pals in crime...and perhaps to revoke our civil rights? (Example... the Patriot Act, which primarily seems to be exercised on a district/ local level in order to circumnavigate the 5th Amendment and inflict double jeopardy on U. S. Citizens.)

Do not swallow it. Do not let this administration and it's lackies talk us into a World Freakin' War in order to up their ratings and win elections. Rick Santorum is one person who has quickly come out in support of Gingrich -- because he's up for reelection and as one of Satan's minions believes war to be both sexy and profitable. On Thursday at the National Press Club in D.C., Santorum said:

“the biggest issue facing our children’s future is a war. Not, as so many describe it, the War on Terror. Not the war in Iraq or Afghanistan. But the world war, which at its heart is just like the previous three global struggles.”

Did he ever take a history class? Does he understand that SO FAR (thank goddess) there have only been 2 World Wars? Or is he maybe thinking of the Crusades? Because these Neocons seem really hot this summer to release a new blockbuster sellout --

World War III Meets

Crusades Two: My God Can STILL Beat Up Your God.

(I'm sorry, but I'm completely incapable of being rational about this topic at the moment. I realize the arguement I've presented is neither concrete nor logical, nor well-organized. But I'm pissed, I'm emoting...and there it is. I'll try again some other time.)

Sveikinu gimtadienio proga!

(That's "happy birthday" in Lithuanian. Today is my mom's birthday and the first day of summer -- or the solstice. This could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. She has that kind of sunshine about her, with that hint of symbolic archaic magic that tends to shade an ancient holiday.)


My Ma and Pete are on their honeymoon in Lithuania, because Pete was born there but moved away with his family as an infant. He has never been back to visit before.

The CIA has lots of information (duh!) at this website if you want to learn some interesting facts about Lithuania.

So, Happy Birthday, Mom! I hope you're drinking wine and soaking up the culture and having a good time being lovebirds with Pete.