hey folks,
i've got a link for you, so you can see that the financial crises is really, really, really bad:
http://dabagirls.wordpress.com/
enjoy reading!
greetings
-Krissi
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Mr. Fixit
there was once a group of several friends in the church who began to grow wary of a popular new rising leader. he was using the church as a springboard to gain further votes in following elections. people who had called themselves christians were losing sight of Christ's true nature and were applying strong feelings of nationalism to Biblical precepts.
this small group of friends spoke out for years against this man's use of the church to gain power and strip the Messiah of his true identity, warping the image of a "good christian" into something drenched in propaganda and illusions of grandeur, power and economic rehabilitation.
this small group of friends were right.
the leader withdrew his support for anything left of the real church.
the state fell under control of a man and his secret police who no longer valued human life that was anything less than Aryan.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer and 14 of the other 15 conspirators who had tried to assassinate Adolf Hitler in order to commit the lesser of two evils were executed in the final months of the European war in the 1940's.
some of these men had spoken out since the late 1920's when Adolf Hitler began making promises of national recovery.
the cult of personality took over and his face was an icon of positive change for years and slowly became an unstoppable symbolic effigy of both a failing nation and a crumbling church.
the cult of personality is a very dangerous thing, especially when the person being admired so violently is still living, and still very powerful.
we must be careful, as people from all walks of life, particularly those of us from within the church, to avoid fawning over a leader because of the change they promise.
i may get criticized for this. but i voted for him, too. and i'm totally psyched that he won the election.
...but a pox on me and my hands and my tongue if i do not state that i am concerned with an overwhelming adoration of a new leader.
i am guilty of bowing to the cult of personality in many ways. i violently adore writers and philosophers like Bonhoeffer, King, Dyson, Niebuhr, Lewis, Bell, and several others.
i also used to believe so strongly in the persona of the man known as El Che. i've since learned that it is the ideals he stood for that i love, and that he was a fallen and failed human in many respects, though certainly not all.
please, sisters and brothers, let us not get so wrapped up in an iconic and impressive speaker and leader at the cost of our search for peace, justice, and most importantly truth.
this small group of friends spoke out for years against this man's use of the church to gain power and strip the Messiah of his true identity, warping the image of a "good christian" into something drenched in propaganda and illusions of grandeur, power and economic rehabilitation.
this small group of friends were right.
the leader withdrew his support for anything left of the real church.
the state fell under control of a man and his secret police who no longer valued human life that was anything less than Aryan.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer and 14 of the other 15 conspirators who had tried to assassinate Adolf Hitler in order to commit the lesser of two evils were executed in the final months of the European war in the 1940's.
some of these men had spoken out since the late 1920's when Adolf Hitler began making promises of national recovery.
the cult of personality took over and his face was an icon of positive change for years and slowly became an unstoppable symbolic effigy of both a failing nation and a crumbling church.
the cult of personality is a very dangerous thing, especially when the person being admired so violently is still living, and still very powerful.
we must be careful, as people from all walks of life, particularly those of us from within the church, to avoid fawning over a leader because of the change they promise.
i may get criticized for this. but i voted for him, too. and i'm totally psyched that he won the election.
...but a pox on me and my hands and my tongue if i do not state that i am concerned with an overwhelming adoration of a new leader.
i am guilty of bowing to the cult of personality in many ways. i violently adore writers and philosophers like Bonhoeffer, King, Dyson, Niebuhr, Lewis, Bell, and several others.
i also used to believe so strongly in the persona of the man known as El Che. i've since learned that it is the ideals he stood for that i love, and that he was a fallen and failed human in many respects, though certainly not all.
please, sisters and brothers, let us not get so wrapped up in an iconic and impressive speaker and leader at the cost of our search for peace, justice, and most importantly truth.
Friday, December 26, 2008
17 pages in an hour for her. 17 hours by the radio for them.
i remember it clearly, the second week on outreach, most poignantly on the 27th and 28th of December, my friend borrowing my AM radio, sitting in a small hut on the outskirts of Mwanza, Tanzania.
two major events occurred on the 27th of December, 2007. it was a day that rocked my world.
Kenyans voted for a president,
the election being rigged to favor the incumbent. the next 30-odd days awash with blood in a nation heralded as Africa's most peaceful. near 1000 deaths triggered by the lies of the rulers.
Pakistanis lost and began mourning for one of the most prominent women in southern Asian politics.
Benazir Bhutto, the former twice-run Prime Minister, recently returned from Exile, was shot in the back of the head and then blown up by a suicide bomber.
i spent the next several months of my life engrossed entirely in news and updates concerning these two events. i spent countless hours with my friend Joy, from Kenya, listening to my radio for any news of change and peace in her homeland.
i spent nearly an hour in a Barnes & Noble stateside a month later, reading Benazir's book, 'Reconciliation'. the final draft of this manuscript was handed to her friend and editor the morning before her assassination. i read the whole first chapter, all 17 pages, trembling in the plush chair.
tomorrow marks the first anniversary of both of these monumental events.
some great change has come to these two nations, while yet another crisis looms for one and progress has been slow in another. tomorrow i will likely sit, trembling, reading the headlines commemorating such tragic loss of life.
only this time there's still hope for things to get better.
two major events occurred on the 27th of December, 2007. it was a day that rocked my world.
Kenyans voted for a president,
the election being rigged to favor the incumbent. the next 30-odd days awash with blood in a nation heralded as Africa's most peaceful. near 1000 deaths triggered by the lies of the rulers.
Pakistanis lost and began mourning for one of the most prominent women in southern Asian politics.
Benazir Bhutto, the former twice-run Prime Minister, recently returned from Exile, was shot in the back of the head and then blown up by a suicide bomber.
i spent the next several months of my life engrossed entirely in news and updates concerning these two events. i spent countless hours with my friend Joy, from Kenya, listening to my radio for any news of change and peace in her homeland.
i spent nearly an hour in a Barnes & Noble stateside a month later, reading Benazir's book, 'Reconciliation'. the final draft of this manuscript was handed to her friend and editor the morning before her assassination. i read the whole first chapter, all 17 pages, trembling in the plush chair.
tomorrow marks the first anniversary of both of these monumental events.
some great change has come to these two nations, while yet another crisis looms for one and progress has been slow in another. tomorrow i will likely sit, trembling, reading the headlines commemorating such tragic loss of life.
only this time there's still hope for things to get better.
Friday, December 12, 2008
This morning when I checked my e-mails, I saw an article on the internet...
"The Torture Charts at Guantanamo Bay"
Reprieve, a British human rights organization, published the following list of songs which were used for and while torture at Guantanamo Bay:
• AC/DC - Hell's Bells
• AC/DC - Shoot to Thrill
• Aerosmith
• Barney the Purple Dinosaur - theme tune
• Bee Gees - Stayin' Alive
• Britney Spears
• Bruce Springsteen - Born in the USA
• Christina Aguilera - Dirty
• David Gray - Babylon
• Deicide - Fuck Your God
• Don McLean - American Pie
• Dope - Die MF Die
• Dope - Take Your Best Shot
• Dr. Dre
• Drowning Pools - Bodies
• Eminem - Kim
• Eminem - Slim Shady
• Eminem - White America
• Li'l Kim
• Limp Bizkit
• Matchbox Twenty - Gold
• Meat Loaf
• Metallica - Enter Sandman
• Neil Diamond - America
• Nine Inch Nails - March of the Pigs
• Nine Inch Nails - Mr. Self-Destruct
• Prince - Raspberry Beret
• Queen - We are The Champions
• Rage Against the Machine - Killing in the Name Of
• Red Hot Chilli Peppers
• Saliva - Click Click Boom
• Sesame Street - theme tune
• Tupac - All Eyes on Me
I know most of the songs and I enjoyed listening to some of them. I never thought about torture when I listened to them...
Knowing that others think about the pain they had to feel when they listen to one of these songs makes it impossible for me to listen to any of them without having this bitter taste of torture.
Read more about it at http://www.reprieve.org.uk/Press_stop_torture_music.htm
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Cluster-bomb might as well be Cluster-F#@%
Finally, a cluster-bomb treaty has been fully developed and is being signed this week by nearly all of the countries in the United Nations.
NEARLY all.
let me quickly cite for you the description of a cluster-bomb, from the AP writer/Yahoo! News article above:
"Cluster bomblets are packed by the hundreds into artillery shells, bombs or missiles that scatter them over vast areas. Some fail to explode immediately. The unexploded bomblets can then lie dormant for years until they are disturbed, often by children attracted by their small size and bright colors."
these are not happy little toys that are harmless to play with. these are bombs that scatter foreign objects throughout the
human body for the explicit purpose of stopping someone dead in their tracks. they normally do just that, but to the wrong people...
"[A]ccording to the group Handicap International, 98 percent of cluster-bomb victims are civilians, and 27 percent are children."
and here's the thing about this treaty before the UN. among those nations refusing to sign it we find ruthless nations that have committed countless war crimes, censored and imprisoned their own citizens with little reason, and participated in terrorist actions around the globe.
three of these countries are as follows:
Russia
China
United State of America
...guess what? countries like Lebanon are signing this treaty. the Lebanese government knows what cluster-bombs are like and know that it doesn't want to let them float around the world freely anymore.
"Washington, Moscow and other non-signers say cluster bombs have legitimate military uses such as repelling advancing troop columns."
if you want to repel advancing troop columns, use bullets. they work, too, and don't have a possibility of delayed explosive injury.
maintaining the use of bullets as opposed to weapons such as cluster-f#@%s will not stop the U.S. from being a nation that utilizes terrorism to get what it wants. but hopefully without these shiny play-things governments like those of Russia, China, and the United States of America might actually have to grow a pair and face combat in a more courageous way, as opposed to all-out slaughter of the weak and vulnerable.
If the United States of America would like to look like a nation that honors freedom and democracy, then I simply demand that its government sign the treaty to ban cluster-bombs.
...
and i ask those of you reading, if you live in this country, try to help us look like a little less of the huge asshole we already are and demand an end to cluster-bombs, as well!
thank you.
NEARLY all.
let me quickly cite for you the description of a cluster-bomb, from the AP writer/Yahoo! News article above:
"Cluster bomblets are packed by the hundreds into artillery shells, bombs or missiles that scatter them over vast areas. Some fail to explode immediately. The unexploded bomblets can then lie dormant for years until they are disturbed, often by children attracted by their small size and bright colors."
these are not happy little toys that are harmless to play with. these are bombs that scatter foreign objects throughout the
human body for the explicit purpose of stopping someone dead in their tracks. they normally do just that, but to the wrong people..."[A]ccording to the group Handicap International, 98 percent of cluster-bomb victims are civilians, and 27 percent are children."
and here's the thing about this treaty before the UN. among those nations refusing to sign it we find ruthless nations that have committed countless war crimes, censored and imprisoned their own citizens with little reason, and participated in terrorist actions around the globe.
three of these countries are as follows:
Russia
China
United State of America
...guess what? countries like Lebanon are signing this treaty. the Lebanese government knows what cluster-bombs are like and know that it doesn't want to let them float around the world freely anymore.
"Washington, Moscow and other non-signers say cluster bombs have legitimate military uses such as repelling advancing troop columns."
if you want to repel advancing troop columns, use bullets. they work, too, and don't have a possibility of delayed explosive injury.
maintaining the use of bullets as opposed to weapons such as cluster-f#@%s will not stop the U.S. from being a nation that utilizes terrorism to get what it wants. but hopefully without these shiny play-things governments like those of Russia, China, and the United States of America might actually have to grow a pair and face combat in a more courageous way, as opposed to all-out slaughter of the weak and vulnerable.
If the United States of America would like to look like a nation that honors freedom and democracy, then I simply demand that its government sign the treaty to ban cluster-bombs.
...
and i ask those of you reading, if you live in this country, try to help us look like a little less of the huge asshole we already are and demand an end to cluster-bombs, as well!
thank you.
Monday, November 3, 2008
i am
i am the Black Militant.
i am the Muslim Extremist.
i am the Illegal Alien.
i am the Welfare Slacker.
i am the St. Claire Gang Banger.
i am the South Side Whore.
i am the Tattooed Convict.
i am the Sleazy Pimp.
i am the Drug Dealer.
i am the one you throw your stereotypes on.
i am the minority you want to categorize.
i am the minority you fear.
i am the minority you rule.
i am the minority you monopolize.
i am all of these and none of these.
sadly, i am white.
i am just like you.
i am just like you as any one of these.
i am just like you when not one of these.
you don't see it the right way.
you don't see the similarity in our differences.
all you want is our deference.
because you're in power.
i am Troy Davis.
i am Timothy McVeigh.
i am John Brown.
i am Fred Ahmed Evans.
i am Eric Harris.
i am Dylan Klebold.
and thanks to you, i am out of luck.
and thanks to you, i am forced down.
i am oppressed.
i am where i am.
and i think you know who i blame.
i am the Muslim Extremist.
i am the Illegal Alien.
i am the Welfare Slacker.
i am the St. Claire Gang Banger.
i am the South Side Whore.
i am the Tattooed Convict.
i am the Sleazy Pimp.
i am the Drug Dealer.
i am the one you throw your stereotypes on.
i am the minority you want to categorize.
i am the minority you fear.
i am the minority you rule.
i am the minority you monopolize.
i am all of these and none of these.
sadly, i am white.
i am just like you.
i am just like you as any one of these.
i am just like you when not one of these.
you don't see it the right way.
you don't see the similarity in our differences.
all you want is our deference.
because you're in power.
i am Troy Davis.
i am Timothy McVeigh.
i am John Brown.
i am Fred Ahmed Evans.
i am Eric Harris.
i am Dylan Klebold.
and thanks to you, i am out of luck.
and thanks to you, i am forced down.
i am oppressed.
i am where i am.
and i think you know who i blame.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
the white moderate (and why i am leaving "church" as it is commonly known)
in this video i only see a handful of whites who are not police (in this particular case the police involved with Troy Davis have been accused of coercion to reach the verdict against Troy that's now nearly had him executed THREE times!...
"...I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
...
We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.
...
I had hoped that the white moderate would see this need. Perhaps I was too optimistic; perhaps I expected too much. I suppose I should have realized that few members of the oppressor race can understand the deep groans and passionate yearnings of the oppressed race, and still fewer have the vision to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent and determined action. I am thankful, however, that some of our white brothers in the South have grasped the meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it. They are still all too few in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some -such as Ralph McGill, Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, James McBride Dabbs, Ann Braden and Sarah Patton Boyle--have written about our struggle in eloquent and prophetic terms. Others have marched with us down nameless streets of the South. They have languished in filthy, roach infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of policemen who view them as "dirty nigger-lovers." Unlike so many of their moderate brothers and sisters, they have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need for powerful "action" antidotes to combat the disease of segregation. Let me take note of my other major disappointment. I have been so greatly disappointed with the white church and its leadership. Of course, there are some notable exceptions.
...
But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church."
-Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr, "Letter from Birmingham Jail"
...and people wonder why i am so disillusioned with the church and can no longer stand to attend most churches. there is so much jovial worship and so little gritty action. where there is gritty action i am unable to be involved and thus i only witness the hollow-seeming worship. it is too hard. were i to ever find a church CENTERED on SERVICE to GOD AND MAN... well, i would be there. but i seek the kind of church that consists of several people committed to various types of service and love for Adonai and fellow man. so, with this i offer up my reasons for stepping out of the common visions of "church" among most people i know.
i also ask that any others who are disillusioned with church the way it's so commonly done, and seek something different, even if it doesn't turn out to be "better", then i would love community with you and the chance to discuss and eat with you and do whatever we feel should be done. let us serve our God and one another.
Peace.
Salaams.
Shalom.
Friede.
Pace.
Pax.
"...I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
...
We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.
...
I had hoped that the white moderate would see this need. Perhaps I was too optimistic; perhaps I expected too much. I suppose I should have realized that few members of the oppressor race can understand the deep groans and passionate yearnings of the oppressed race, and still fewer have the vision to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent and determined action. I am thankful, however, that some of our white brothers in the South have grasped the meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it. They are still all too few in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some -such as Ralph McGill, Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, James McBride Dabbs, Ann Braden and Sarah Patton Boyle--have written about our struggle in eloquent and prophetic terms. Others have marched with us down nameless streets of the South. They have languished in filthy, roach infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of policemen who view them as "dirty nigger-lovers." Unlike so many of their moderate brothers and sisters, they have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need for powerful "action" antidotes to combat the disease of segregation. Let me take note of my other major disappointment. I have been so greatly disappointed with the white church and its leadership. Of course, there are some notable exceptions.
...
But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church."
-Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr, "Letter from Birmingham Jail"
...and people wonder why i am so disillusioned with the church and can no longer stand to attend most churches. there is so much jovial worship and so little gritty action. where there is gritty action i am unable to be involved and thus i only witness the hollow-seeming worship. it is too hard. were i to ever find a church CENTERED on SERVICE to GOD AND MAN... well, i would be there. but i seek the kind of church that consists of several people committed to various types of service and love for Adonai and fellow man. so, with this i offer up my reasons for stepping out of the common visions of "church" among most people i know.
i also ask that any others who are disillusioned with church the way it's so commonly done, and seek something different, even if it doesn't turn out to be "better", then i would love community with you and the chance to discuss and eat with you and do whatever we feel should be done. let us serve our God and one another.
Peace.
Salaams.
Shalom.
Friede.
Pace.
Pax.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
identity in you?
they say i've got identity in you Jeshua, but they also say you don't love gay folks or black folks or Iraqi folks, that's why i don't think i want THAT identity, i know your justice is different from that of those that claim your name, but i can't handle it, i'm lost, unable to find just you, just you, simply you, where the hell are ya, i'm reaching out in every direction, to my friends, to my causes, joined NAACP SPUSA and one too many churches looking for me, not you just me, i got it wrong, and now i can't get it right.
how can you be so close and so far, how can i climb the highest mountain and somehow miss you, how can i seek justice the way i think you like it and never meet you in the streets, how can i be raised in the church only to founder at the age of 20, how can the church raise me and push me out of the nest, i don't really want church, i want community, i guess i was raised by one that has now morphed into counterfeit, counterfeit cash burns a different color, smoke traces give it away, put it to the test and it fails, see me hurting, no you don't, you're not looking, you're the counterfeit.
i can't find my identity anymore, i don't know where to start, i'm lost in a foreign state, a fresh foreign state of mind, i don't want a lot of readers i want the right ones, i want those i can read with weep with write with smoke cigars and drink with, all that in fellowship with the Rabbi, where did the Rabbi go that no one can show me what he looks like anymore?
a sip of peach tea i find refreshing, i watched a confusing movie today, wish i were home, wish i were at bcc even though i know i've outgrown it their too, not all change is bad but all change hurts sure as hell, i hate this limbo this extraordinary maze, where are you taking me you devilish white rabbit, you're such a pain to me right now, i really am in pain, can't you tell, stop running me in circles and stop for a second won't you, i need peace, i need restoration, i need community, i need identity.
but identity's gone, jumped the gun as i jumped off the wagon, joined a new caravan called college again, they say it'll make me smarter, what if cigars i've never tried are all that i want, what do you say to that you pristine white-washed vanities of vacancy of vision, invest in someone won't you, invest in a man in need of a heart transplant and stop shoving me those bandaids damnit!
God, sweet sweet God, i want what you give, what you have given, what you always give me, i guess i lost it somewhere along the way, did i deny it or have it robbed from me, only a few remotely understand me and that number diminishes, i know i'm not alone but i see so few who are fighting for what i'm fighting for, i'll continue to pray with her, it's been a while since that act, i miss our prayers every night, her sweet soft voice saying amen and good night, i miss knowing she was with me on it, but i stopped praying with her each night and i blame me alone, i am the cause of my problems, i want to come back, but i don't even know which way to go!
i had another chance to find communion tonight, but like so many beyond the walls of the "church" i refused the chance, gave myself an excuse, i've been hurt so many times as i've sought companionship in you Rabbi, don't make me try it again in the wrong place, i'll join the ranks of the gas station guy, he with his beautiful broken eyes, he and i the same are crippled and killed by the christian church, i find more peace with him than i have in a "church building" in a year or so now.
i don't know what i did but i have become your judas.
how can you be so close and so far, how can i climb the highest mountain and somehow miss you, how can i seek justice the way i think you like it and never meet you in the streets, how can i be raised in the church only to founder at the age of 20, how can the church raise me and push me out of the nest, i don't really want church, i want community, i guess i was raised by one that has now morphed into counterfeit, counterfeit cash burns a different color, smoke traces give it away, put it to the test and it fails, see me hurting, no you don't, you're not looking, you're the counterfeit.
i can't find my identity anymore, i don't know where to start, i'm lost in a foreign state, a fresh foreign state of mind, i don't want a lot of readers i want the right ones, i want those i can read with weep with write with smoke cigars and drink with, all that in fellowship with the Rabbi, where did the Rabbi go that no one can show me what he looks like anymore?
a sip of peach tea i find refreshing, i watched a confusing movie today, wish i were home, wish i were at bcc even though i know i've outgrown it their too, not all change is bad but all change hurts sure as hell, i hate this limbo this extraordinary maze, where are you taking me you devilish white rabbit, you're such a pain to me right now, i really am in pain, can't you tell, stop running me in circles and stop for a second won't you, i need peace, i need restoration, i need community, i need identity.
but identity's gone, jumped the gun as i jumped off the wagon, joined a new caravan called college again, they say it'll make me smarter, what if cigars i've never tried are all that i want, what do you say to that you pristine white-washed vanities of vacancy of vision, invest in someone won't you, invest in a man in need of a heart transplant and stop shoving me those bandaids damnit!
God, sweet sweet God, i want what you give, what you have given, what you always give me, i guess i lost it somewhere along the way, did i deny it or have it robbed from me, only a few remotely understand me and that number diminishes, i know i'm not alone but i see so few who are fighting for what i'm fighting for, i'll continue to pray with her, it's been a while since that act, i miss our prayers every night, her sweet soft voice saying amen and good night, i miss knowing she was with me on it, but i stopped praying with her each night and i blame me alone, i am the cause of my problems, i want to come back, but i don't even know which way to go!
i had another chance to find communion tonight, but like so many beyond the walls of the "church" i refused the chance, gave myself an excuse, i've been hurt so many times as i've sought companionship in you Rabbi, don't make me try it again in the wrong place, i'll join the ranks of the gas station guy, he with his beautiful broken eyes, he and i the same are crippled and killed by the christian church, i find more peace with him than i have in a "church building" in a year or so now.
i don't know what i did but i have become your judas.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Nudes. Beauty. Truth.
last month i was on a walk with my girlfriend, Ashley, and we spent the afternoon meeting her father and getting her registered to vote. equally important as the rest is the fact that she and i walked into a local art gallery on Main and surveyed everything in the shop, from the glass ornaments to the wood furniture to the knit scarves and gloves, to the photographs to the paintings of nude women toward the back of the shop.
it was in this back corridor that she and i viewed some of the most beautiful nudes i've every seen! these women were by no means the norm of the modern playgirl. these women were not huge, but they were also not radically thin. though i can't find this individual artist's work, these following paintings are similar to the styles of the paintings in the gallery, except that those in the gallery were more impressionistic.
somewhere along the way men lost their concept of true beauty and fell for a forfeit and now are more pleased by a frail, thin body with little brains beneath glossy hair and plastic "improvements".
what happened to the love of the kind of woman who'd been made of more than a body? what happened to the truth of a beautiful woman who had more to her than a petite frame that's more "aesthetically pleasing"?
a more matronly look was once considered true beauty, not more than 100 years ago!
it seems to me that in the days of such an image of beauty, women were more concerned with other aspects of their lives. now men enforce this image of objectification where all women have to do is look good.
we men become men when we objectify a woman by forcing her to become less than the complex, multi-dimensional daughter of someone that she is.
it's interesting that to be beautiful you have to be thin, and to be thin you have to buy into the lie that you can't possibly be good enough, beautiful enough, or absolutely incredible enough, in any other way. by forcing the obsession with image, men continue to belittle every other aspect of a woman.
it's so wrong.
the truth is that beauty really has nothing to do with what you look like, although you can certainly look beautiful (as Ashley does)!
in reality beauty is in who a person is, how complex they are, what they live for, breathe in, fight for, care for, worry about, struggle with, burn for and think about... Ashley is so beautiful in every way, and i find it a lot healthier to be obsessed with her in all these other ways than to be obsessed with maintaining her in a certain image. she's NO object! and thankfully she'd never let me forget that! :)
...
and now, in the words of Orwell, witness another declaration of true Beauty:
"Tirelessly the woman marched to and fro, corking and uncorking herself, singing and falling silent, and pegging out more diapers, and more and yet more. He wondered whether she took in washing for a living or was merely the slave of twenty or thirty grandchildren. Julia had come across to his side; together they gazed down with a sort of fascination at the sturdy figure below. As he looked at the woman in her characteristic attitude, her thick arms reaching up for the line, her powerful mare-like buttocks protruded, it struck him for the first time that she was beautiful. It had never before occurred to him that the body of a woman of fifty, blown up to monstrous dimensions by childbearing, then hardened, roughened by work till it was coarse in the grain like an over-ripe turnip, could be beautiful. But it was so, and after all, he thought, why not? The solid, contourless body, like a block of granite, and the rasping red skin, bore the same relation to the body of a girl as the rose-hip to the rose. Why should the fruit be held inferior to the flower?
'She's beautiful,' he murmured.
'She's a metre across the hips, easily,' said Julia.
'That is her style of beauty,' said Winston."
on behalf of myself, Winston, Orwell, and the men and women that think, i say ALL WOMEN are beautiful. don't change. :)
it was in this back corridor that she and i viewed some of the most beautiful nudes i've every seen! these women were by no means the norm of the modern playgirl. these women were not huge, but they were also not radically thin. though i can't find this individual artist's work, these following paintings are similar to the styles of the paintings in the gallery, except that those in the gallery were more impressionistic.
somewhere along the way men lost their concept of true beauty and fell for a forfeit and now are more pleased by a frail, thin body with little brains beneath glossy hair and plastic "improvements".
what happened to the love of the kind of woman who'd been made of more than a body? what happened to the truth of a beautiful woman who had more to her than a petite frame that's more "aesthetically pleasing"?
a more matronly look was once considered true beauty, not more than 100 years ago!
it seems to me that in the days of such an image of beauty, women were more concerned with other aspects of their lives. now men enforce this image of objectification where all women have to do is look good.
we men become men when we objectify a woman by forcing her to become less than the complex, multi-dimensional daughter of someone that she is.
it's interesting that to be beautiful you have to be thin, and to be thin you have to buy into the lie that you can't possibly be good enough, beautiful enough, or absolutely incredible enough, in any other way. by forcing the obsession with image, men continue to belittle every other aspect of a woman.
it's so wrong.
the truth is that beauty really has nothing to do with what you look like, although you can certainly look beautiful (as Ashley does)!
in reality beauty is in who a person is, how complex they are, what they live for, breathe in, fight for, care for, worry about, struggle with, burn for and think about... Ashley is so beautiful in every way, and i find it a lot healthier to be obsessed with her in all these other ways than to be obsessed with maintaining her in a certain image. she's NO object! and thankfully she'd never let me forget that! :)
...
and now, in the words of Orwell, witness another declaration of true Beauty:
"Tirelessly the woman marched to and fro, corking and uncorking herself, singing and falling silent, and pegging out more diapers, and more and yet more. He wondered whether she took in washing for a living or was merely the slave of twenty or thirty grandchildren. Julia had come across to his side; together they gazed down with a sort of fascination at the sturdy figure below. As he looked at the woman in her characteristic attitude, her thick arms reaching up for the line, her powerful mare-like buttocks protruded, it struck him for the first time that she was beautiful. It had never before occurred to him that the body of a woman of fifty, blown up to monstrous dimensions by childbearing, then hardened, roughened by work till it was coarse in the grain like an over-ripe turnip, could be beautiful. But it was so, and after all, he thought, why not? The solid, contourless body, like a block of granite, and the rasping red skin, bore the same relation to the body of a girl as the rose-hip to the rose. Why should the fruit be held inferior to the flower?
'She's beautiful,' he murmured.
'She's a metre across the hips, easily,' said Julia.
'That is her style of beauty,' said Winston."
on behalf of myself, Winston, Orwell, and the men and women that think, i say ALL WOMEN are beautiful. don't change. :)
It's a new world - it's a new start
Here I am - this is me
There's no where else on earth I'd rather be
Here I am - it's just me and you
And tonight we make our dreams come true
It's a new world - it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of young hearts
It's a new day - it's a new plan
I've been waiting for you
Here I am
Here we are - we've just begun
And after all this time - our time has come
Ya here we are - still goin' strong
Right here in the place where we belong
Here I am - this is me
There's no where else on earth I'd rather be
Here I am - it's just me and you
And tonight we make our dreams come true
Here I am - next to you
And suddenly the world is all brand new
Here I am - where I'm gonna stay
Now there's nothin standin in our way
Here I am - this is me
... I stated a new life last month. Now I'm no longer living with my partens and all my friends and I don't live in the place where I have spend all my life... It's strange because it's a new life.
Everything is new, everything is unknown for me and I need to make my way on my own.
I moved out becuase I started my studies at the University of Applied Sciences in Worms.
Now I'm studiing Tourism.
It's a new world for me. I need to deal with everything on my own and that's not always that easy
...BUT...
I like it this way!
I love to wake up alone in the morning and there's no one I need to share the bathroom with.
I can leave my flat whenever I want to and there's no one I need to tell where I'm going to.
I can watch on TV whatever I want to see.
I live my own life!
And even if I think I'm alone in this strange city, I know that I'm not!
God is with me. He helps me, he supports me, he leads me and he guides me!
I hope God blesses you as much as he blesses me at the moment!
Love
-Krissi
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