Sunday, July 31, 2005

Supremacists Shop at Sam's

Just before closing time last Sunday evening, we dashed into Sam's to buy our stock of standards for summer camp lunch boxes. And as I neared the produce aisle, what did my wandering eyes behold but the epitome of evil, the idiot of idealogues, the demonic demagogue himself, David Duke.

In case you don't already know who this guy is, David Duke is a former grand wizard of the KKK. He's the founder of the NAAWP, (yep, "White People"), and NOFEAR, National Organization For European American Rights, which, after a trademark infringement lawsuit, was changed to European-American Rights Organization. Duke's big on using the term "European" rather than "white" these days. I always thought I was white and European, but I believe this is questionable by the DuKKKe standards. For example, if you're Jewish, you're not white. (But I'd bet you I could randomly pick 100 card-carrying "legally Jewish" folks to parade in front of him mixed in with Duke's "officially white" designees and he'd miss the call at least half the time, probably more) Same deal for Semitic folks in general, (which includes Arabs), as well as Hispanics, and probably lots of other groups who think they're white, too. I have a friend who dated a guy whose parents made him break up with her because she was not "white." That's what he told her; she was confused, as she appears to be quite white, but her mother is German but her father is from Madrid. A Spanish last name. That's all it took. I was eighteen when she told me this and it was the most bizarre and unbelievable thing I'd ever heard of. Little did I know...

Anyway, we are pretty much the poster family for everything Duke abhors, no matter how you slice it. My gravest offence may be that I, a white girl, married a black man and had a child with him. Except I don't think he'd consider me to be white because I come from a family where Christians, Arabs and Jews from the central and eastern Mediterranean, cross-pollenated freely, with some input along the way from fair skinned/haired/eyed interlopers from northern Europe. This amalgamation has yielded an assortment folks falling at different points along the continuum between dark olive complexions (me, in summer) and quite fair and freckly folks (my sister), with lots of blue and green eyes. However, none of these (so-called) "Aryan" traits offset the non-Aryan traits and make me officially white, per Duke. (My dad's grandmother was very, very fair-skinned and blue eyed, a condition that Dad attributed to "The Norman Invasion," which , not being much of a history buff, I know nothing about.)

It should be noted here, for the record, that word "Aryan" has its roots in linguistics and is generally associated with the language families of Iran and northern India. It was only by some very fancy footwork by Nazis and proto-Nazis that the word came to be associated with a white "master race." (Want to know more? Wikipedia has lots of info.) Don't try explaining this to the hatemongers. But do ponder the irony of pro-European-American rights/white supremacists embracing a concept based on something rooted in Iran and India.

Now, on to my second manner of offending the grand wiz. Given the fact that I'm probably not white by his definition, I've committed the grave offense of spoiling some perfectly good, blue-eyed WASP seed by procreating with one in round two of my contribution to the overpopulation of the planet. (Sorry, it wasn't deliberate, but they're both very much worth it.) I'm sure Duke must have wanted to wretch when he saw fair little Rachel, with her light aqua-blue eyes, and dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, trouping around the store with her horrid mother and bi-racial brother. Poor child. She'll never ever learn how superior her WASP half is, living in a house with us.

Though we don't know each other personally, David Duke and I are not strangers. When he ran for governor of Louisiana in 1991, (another of the many things we have to be proud of here), I joined a group of activists organized by local members of the ISO (International Socialist Organization) and the Delta Greens (a local chapter of the Louisiana Green Party) to fight him and his campaign of hatemongering. It was one of the most fulfilling times of my life. We went wherever he went. We heckled him and hounded him and never gave him a moment's peace. We organized rallies, marches, vigils, and produced a fundraiser in the form of a play called "Do The White Thing," a parody of Duke's campaign, written and directed by some very talented New Orlenians and performed by black actors in whiteface makeup. Little three-year-old Alex was present at many of the events, (only those that I expected to be safe), and still remembers holding a "NO DUKES" sign and chanting anti-Duke slogans. (Zaytuni- I believe you were at some of these as well, n'est-ce pas?)

I must not fail to acknowledge all the hard work of Lance Hill, the man who was the driving force in the hard-fought battle against Duke, not just in 1991, but at every opportunity, as Duke's political career was certainly not limited to the race for governor. (Read the article at the link and you can't help but admire this man.)

When I saw Duke at Sam's, all I could think of was what a pathetic piece of crap he is. Actually, from the moment I saw him, I had this irresistible urge to laugh at him, which I indulged frequently. I watched him spend nearly 10 painstaking minutes inspecting the several containers of tomatoes he'd opened, substituting the less-than-perfect specimens for pristine ones from the other containers until he had his own little master-race produce to take home. Poor guy. It must be tough to be him, so perfect (after thousands of dollars worth of cosmetic surgery) and to have to live in such an imperfect world. How ever does he survive in a city such as this, with it's 66 % black population- even higher of you count all us deluded folks who think we're white but don't qualify for reasons mentioned earlier. (Actually, Duke does not really live among us New Orleanians- he lives in the white-flight suburbs, of course.)

After I pointed him out to Alex, I decided I wanted to take his picture with my camera phone and blog it. Alex wanted to be a part of that, so I gave him the cell phone. It turned out to be much harder than we thought, because you've got to be pretty close to get a good cellphone picture and we wanted to be stealth. We kind of stalked him around the store for a while without luck. It was a frustrating endeavor and there were moments where I just wanted to go right up to him and with a big grin on my face and ask him to smile for the camera, then trot off laughing.

As I said earlier, it was just before closing time when we were shopping and we beat Duke to the checkout lines. There were only three lines that were still open, and two of the cashiers were black. The line for the white cashier was longest, and when Duke arrived, he nervously paced back and forth with his basket, trying to decide what to do. What a dilemma; the shortest line (ours) with a black cashier and a longest one with a white cashier. He got in the white cashier's line. I had turned to watch him, curious to see what he'd do and eager to give him the evil eye, or better still, to chuckle at him, which I think is a more appropriate assault .

After he made his choice I said, in the kind of voice you'd use to speak to a child, "That's right. Don't get in the short line with the black cashier..." I said this at what I guess was a normal volume; not very loud, but not at a whisper. The 20-something year old cashier gave me a perplexed looked and I told her the man in the suit was David Duke. Her eyes got as big as saucers. The black cashier in the next line heard me and suddenly they were looking at him then looking at me and then each other, like the big, bad wolf was about to gobble them up. I told Alex to snap a picture, even if Duke was not that close. Alex was nervous, so I told him to just take my picture and get Duke in it. He did.

So, I'm still turning and giving him the evil eye every now and then, and the poor cashiers seem nervous, and then he moved over into our line, behind the customer that was behind us. I apologized to the disconcerted cashier for startling her told her not to be afraid of the big coward and advised her to just treat him like any other customer.

Little Rachel wanted to know what all the fuss was about, so I explained as best I could who Duke is. On our way out to the car, we began to speculate about what kind of car Duke drove. Aware of the kind of ego Duke's known for, I thought it would be some sort of German power-car. Knowing that black is a power color, I even postulated that it would be black. After all, he wears black suits when not clothed in white robes. Rachel, having just found out what Duke is all about, said she thought he'd drive a white car. Turns out she was white right. And the cable repair man, a green-eyed, African- American with a passion for cars who saw what I was working on when he used the computer to test the connection, said the car is Japanese. Interesting.

Post Script: I've been working on this post for the last two weeks, as time has permitted. In doing my research for pictures and links to enhance the content, I visited Duke's website. I will not grace it with a link, but you can find it by by simply adding dot com to his name. I must tell you that perusing it made me feel nauseous, literally. Although he still hates virtually everyone, he seems to have almost completely devoted himself to antisemitism now. I have never been able to find any logic in this sentiment that can stand up to even the most miniscule scrutiny, and I remain confounded by the notion that Duke and his ilk manage to rationalize their beliefs.

Duke in Wikipedia
The Southern Poverty Law Center- Advocates for Justice and Equality
General Information About Hategroups and Extremists
SPLC's Hatewatch
Duke Stars in Gay Prison Porn?

Friday, July 29, 2005

Busy Day Post: Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?

Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Do This While You're Waiting!!! (Click this title.)

Yes, I am still alive, but have been exceedingly busy with my four jobs, two of which are definitely full-time (teaching and parenting) and the remaining two (music management and clinical research) in competition for every other free moment I have. I'm not even counting my other personal occupations, such as my own musical pursuits, which have been shoved so far back in the line of priorities, it's sad, as I do love them so. Anyway, I must divest myself of some of these responsibilities, and I'm working on that. I'm currently digging my way out of grading hell and preparing to post final grades for the semester. I have lots of unfinished posts in the wings which will appear shortly after I am relieved from university obligations. Sigh.

Now, in the meantime, if you really want to make my day, (and I could use that!), point your browser to the live radio broadcast stream coming from WWOZ in New Orleans no later than 5:00 PM Central (6:00 PM EDT, 4:00 PM MDT, 3:00 PM PDT- unless you're in one of those wacky places that stays on standard time while the rest of us languish in more daylight work-hours, in which case, you'll have to adjust accordingly). If you do this, you will hear my soon-to-be-former management client (not because I don't love him and the band, but because I just don't have the time), Kirk Joseph and the band (Backyard Groove) doing a live "informance" to promote tomorrow night's gig at Snug Harbor. This will be a more jazz than funk-oriented gig.

So, if you see this post in time, please tune in and then let me know what you think. And if you haven't done so already, go to his website and check out the CD...and buy it! Support us hard-working musicians! (You can contact me about this or go through LA Music Factory.)

Hey! Wanna thrill me beyond words? Come to one of the shows tomorrow night (Thursday, July 28th) at Snug Harbor (9:00 and 11:00 PM). Come say hello to me. I'll be the 5'7" green-eyed Mediterranean woman with the short, dark, curly hair, standing around, watching attentively and looking very happy and proud of this great bunch of musicians. And if you should decide to show up and you're not from here but decided to make a surprise visit, you'll not only thrill me beyond words, you'll completely blow my mind. (And that might be kinda fun to witness.)

Don't forget to at least tune in...

Thanks, and I'll be back soon!

Friday, July 15, 2005

To The Accidental Tourists

Greetings to you, all you first time visitors from around the world, particularly all you poor souls from oppressive countries lead by religious regimes in parts of the world where Americans are despised. Of you, there are many. I welcome you, one and all, though I apologize for your likely disappointment, since you did a Google image search for "sex games" and only found this:

Maybe you thought you'd find more pictures of this sex game being played. Oh, well.

Or perhaps you searched under "preteen slutwear" but all you found was this:

Or this.

This was hardly worth the energy it took to click, I know, but since you're here, why not stay a moment longer and jot a little note in the comments section just to say hello. Anonymous commenting is turned on (even if you're not). And not that you should care, (do you even speak/read english?), but it would really make my day.

Would it help if I sweetened the deal with this? (Thanks, Mattel!)

Or maybe this?

(See that ring on the chain? What do you suppose Ken does with that? It's pretty much the perfect size, assuming Ken is endowed at all.)

Now, for the rest of you, feel free to say hello, as well.

I am so very sleepy right now, so I must sign off, but I will post again sooooooooon. I promise. And I've got some really worthy Kens to add to the collection....

Monday, July 04, 2005

Thanks, and Keep Telling Them.
(Happy 4th of July. Now Give US Our Country Back!)

Thanks, and Keep Telling Them.
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.
On my last day of hobnobbing with the pharmaceutical research glitterati in Washington D.C., I decided that I should take a walk by the Whitehouse and thank any protesters I found at work there for staying with it and continuing to try to elucidate the naive about the many violations of good stewardship and public trust being perpetrated by the Bush administration. I found two. This is one. Betcha thought Nixon was dead, huh! Well, he is, but now that Tricky Dick's had time to catch up on his reading, he's quite appalled to have learned that a lil twit like Dubya has outdone him. So, the Wheel of Karma has spun him out of the flames of hell and back to his old haunt (hehehe) to do a little service work. I admire the angel of a man hiding behind that mask for enduring the heat and humidity of the day with that thing on. Now that's putting your monsy where your mouth is, so to speak. (Or I could have just used a more appropriate cliché, like, now that's walking the talk. Sorry I couldn't come up with anything less hokey.)

Now, I've said this before, but I'm going to say it again anyway. If you haven't read John Dean's book, Worse Than Watergate and/or Richard Clark's Against All Enemies you absolutely must. Both. They shine the light on many ugly truths and will put many things about this president and his administration in perspective. Read them, I command you! It's important. Especially if you think that Bush and his ilk are doing all the right things for the right reasons. (And these are only two of many books that should be on the reading list for this subject.)

Since I'm in the cliché mode, let me finish my pontification with this truth: Knowledge is power. Given the condition of willful ignorance being exhibited by the masses in this country, it's no wonder we continue to be powerless while tens of thousands die for the self-serving ideals of a priveledged few, and more and more of our
inalienable rights disentegrate and blow away with the wind.

Now, obey me and go do some reading! (Except for you, and you, and you, and you over there on the left, you, too. I'm not talking to you. You're all smart and diligent, you read lots of books, you don't watch reality television, and you know a lot more about all this stuff than I do. So, carry on.)

BTW, Nixon was actually reading another book, which he said was even better than Dean's. I don't recall the title, but I have his e-mail address and will ask about it when I send him the picture I took. I will report this when I get the info.)

I'm Afflicted

Human Virus Scanner

According to this site's very accurate diagnostic tool, I'm afflicted with the following:

1. Junkfood
2. Politics
3. Environmentalism
4. Hippyism
5. Macintosh (DUH!)

I might suffer from or at least be at risk for "Conspiracy Theory" (80%) as well.

Thanks to Richard for posting this on Electronic Ephemera.

Click on the link and take the test.