Jun. 7th, 2006

ciroccoj: (contemplative)
It's interesting, finding out that I've got some files on my new computer that Chris rescued from an elderly hard drive. This is something I was e-mailed around 1995 or so.

From Mad at Miles: A Black Woman's Guide to Truth, by Pearl Cleage
(Author's Note: This piece was written for performance and premiered at the second National Black Arts festival in August of 1990 as part of the series "Just Us Theatre Presents Live at Club Zebra!" The piece was staged with video by Zaron W. Burnett, Jr.)

I spent a lot of time talking to my sisters, and in between raising our children and earning our living and struggling for our freedom and loving our womenfriends and building a new world, we sometimes - every now and then - talk about the brothers.

Invariably the discussion moves from vivid descriptions of the various ways in which a brother constitutes "a good brother" to wistful expressions of disbelief at the unrelenting shortage in this area, to a resigned sigh and the unspoken question of why there seem to be so many more good sisters than there are good brothers.

Now I will admit that these are complex questions to consider, but how can we arrive at the correct position on the issues of the day without confronting them? Is Marian Barry, for example, a "good brother" with a few personal problems, under siege from the forces of racism and evil, or a physically abusive womanhater who regularly lied to his wife, manipulated his female employees and acquaintances, and backhanded his lover so hard he knocked her down before she had ever even met any FBI agents?

See what I mean about the complexity of the questions? But I'm optimistic. I believe we can work it out. I believe we have to and that time is getting very short...

Read more... )
ciroccoj: (wink)
It's great, being a cheap drunk. I hardly ever drink, so whenever I have 2.5 glasses of champagne, like right now, I quickly get a very pleasant buzz :)

Champagne is in honour of Chris finishing his last call ever. He's been on call a lifetime, literally; Justin's lifetime, anyway, as he started doing call when Daniel was a little over two years old and Justin not yet a gleam in our eyes.

Nice to be done with that. Tomorrow's a regular work day, capped by the outgoing residents' goodbye dinner, then Friday he's at some sort of seminar, and then he's done.


Had a very, very long rant at parents who seem to believe that nurturing their children's individuality = allowing them to be rude, smartmouth little buggers, but I think I'll leave that till tomorrow. Synopsis of rant? "Bart Simpson was funny because he wasn't a real kid. Your kid? Is not bright yellow, four-fingered, or two-dimensional. Therefore, not nearly as funny."


Mark down the date: Chris and I both smiled at something Stephen Harper said today. When asked how he felt about the fact that apparently one of the terrorist plots was to storm Parliament, take hostages, and behead him, he responded, "I can live with all these threats as long as they're not from my caucus."


WTF, Anne Coulter? Seriously. WTF?


Want to be in Hawaii now. Kthxby.

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