Quick update: Yesterday, Rob, Dudley and I started off in Highland Park (now known as Time-Stands-Park’d), having planned on a BBQ (barbe[q]ue[er]) and fireworks show on the river. Then we realized that this town is too lame to have fireworks on the fourth of July–apparently, the less-than-spectacular show had happened the night before. I guess people around here only celebrate the third of July. Anyway, after some last minute re-planning and a 46 minute (according to our Google Maps directions) drive, we managed our way past all of the patriotic crazies on the boardwalk and watched the fireworks from the beach. Del and Pinky were enormously excited — the poor bears had never seen fireworks before…

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(Photo of the mock Apartheid Wall at Brower Commons, for a BAKA event during Palestine Awareness Week earlier this semester.)

Today I’ve seen a number of statuses pop up on Facebook regarding Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s official Memorial Day. The wording of a lot of these status confused me, and left me wondering: why do we celebrate holidays in which we thank people for dying, rather than mourning their loss? Yom Hazikaron is a day that, like patriotic holidays in the US, teach us to honor martyrdom and war–it upholds those killed in brutal, senseless wars as heroes, and turns those victims into national blood sacrifices. Today I commemorate the loss of Israelis and Palestinians alike–but I will not post a Facebook status or blog thanking soldiers for dying in defense of a Jewish homeland, nor will I pretend those lives are any more important than Palestinian lives.

If Jewish tradition mandates an obligation to save and preserve life, there is no true Jewish state as long as Palestine is occupied.

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First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

Today is Yom Hashoah, and I have been reminded throughout the day to remember the Six Million Jews murdered during the Holocaust. But when we say “never forget” and use the figure “6 million,” we are forgetting. When we say “never again” and intend it to be applicable to Jews only, we let it happen again… in Rwanda, in Bosnia, in Sudan, in Palestine…

So today, I am not only remembering the six million Jews who perished in the Holocaust. I’m remembering the 12 million who lost their lives, and those who continue to suffer around the world as we forget, and rationalize, and ignore. And that is why I will not say “never again.” Not because I don’t care, not because I’m anti-Semitic, not because I’m racist, but because it is happening again… and we’re forgetting, and forgetting, and forgetting.

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1. Scout of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Scout is simply a badass. She might be an eight-year-old girl, but her ability to process the world around her without acting in accord with society’s prejudice is remarkable. She often doesn’t even understand the significance of her actions, but even in her naiveté, the importance of her words are not lost on the reader. She manages to break up a potential lynching with a simple “hey, Mr. Cunningham,” her innocence and her kind heart forcing down the guns and anger surrounding her. Like I said, she’s just a badass.

2. Alison of Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. These two panels say it all:

(I gave my thesis presentation last week, part of which was about Bechdel’s graphic memoir, Fun Home. I don’t know if it was my use of the word “fuck” or my pictures of lesbian sex, but the room was surprisingly quiet…)

3. Finn of Accomplice by Eireann Corrigan. I love love love everything written by Eireann Corrigan. Part of it may be that she teaches at the high school I attended (and there are subtle references to Prep in a lot of her writing), part of it may be that she uses the traditional Irish spelling of Eireann, and part of it is that all of her characters are so beautifully fucked up. In Accomplice, Finn helps stage the disappearance of her best friend, Chloe, so that the two of them can write kickass college essays. I was so drawn into Finn and her relationship with Chloe as I was reading this book, and it was impossible to predict what would happen next. But what really made me love this book and adore Finn in particular will ruin the ending, so I’ll leave it at this: go buy this book. Now.

4. Precious of Push by Sapphire.

everi mornin
by Precious j.

Everi mornin
i write
a poem
before I go to
school
marY Had a little lamb
but I got a kid
an HIV
that folow me
to school
one day.

5. Portia of The Merchant of Venice by Shakespeare. I first read this play in a Shakespeare seminar on the politics of friendship–so naturally, we were preoccupied with themes of masculinity, political power, and relationships between men. Portia stands out as a character who, despite her circumstances, remains assertive, opinionated, and confident. She’s often pegged as manipulative because she so cleverly finds her way through social and legal loopholes with her cleverness and her male lawyer drag… while she’s not the only one of Shakespeare’s heroines to crossdress, I find her the most compelling. And you just can’t ignore the hilarity of a male actor playing a woman in male drag.

6. Rebecca of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. Who says a heroine can’t be dead throughout the entire story? (That doesn’t give anything away, don’t worry.)

7. Kathy H. of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. It’s Kathy’s best friend, Ruth, who is really the alpha-female of this novel, but Kathy is the clear winner for the title of Heroine. There’s one scene in particular–Kathy dancing to the song Never Let Me Go, holding a doll close to her chest–that I always think of when I recall reading this book. It’s Kathy’s kind-heartedness that ultimately makes the book so devastating, and her empathy for others, despite what she’s been through, is almost tragic. I think part of me wanted to see her express anger and lash out, but she refuses to compromise her humanity, even if society refuses to recognize it.

8. Dolores Driscoll of The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks. There’s something about Dolores’ pride in her work as a school bus driver that had me attached to her from the second she started narrating. The book is actually told by four different narrators, each receiving their own section, but the tragedy of Dolores’ life after the accident–especially when she becomes the scapegoat for the deaths of 14 children–left me in awe of her incredible sense of responsibility and genuine love for the children of her town.

9. Irene of Passing by Nella Larsen. Despite her weaknesses and her intense judgement of Clare, it was hard for me not to love Irene. As it turns out, neither Irene nor Clare are completely satisfied with their choices in life, and in more subtle ways, Irene attempts to “pass” as much as Clare does. (I’ve already included one lesbian sex picture in this post, so I’ll just go ahead and admit what you’re all thinking–it’s definitely the homoeroticism of this book that does it for me.)

Annnnnd drumroll please…

10. Pippi from The Adventures of Pippi Longstocking by Michael Chesworth. OK, all I remember of Pippi is from my childhood, of course, and I think I just thought her braids were really cool, but I had to save a spot for her to satisfy my 8-year-old self…

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fuckyeahmarxismleninism:

Palestine solidarity in West Belfast

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Today I saw a student on College Ave. holding this sign that simply says “I’m sorry.” I was heading to work on another campus, but I had some time to quickly ask him what exactly he was sorry for. He explained that he was apologizing for the general hypocrisy of the Church and for those Christians who make it their business to tell others that our existence is wrong–that our homosexuality offends them, that our faith or lack thereof will damn us to hell, and that we have no place in the world.

So, to those students who spent today holding up these signs on College Avenue: I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that when we, as queer and progressive students, lash out at Brother Greg and others, we often forget that they hurt the kind-hearted Christians out there as much as they hurt us. I’m sorry that when students bring ex-gay ministers and other such hateful events to campus, it alienates you–queers, allies, and progressives of the Christian faith–more than anyone. And I’m sorry that we all feel the need to apologize for things we shouldn’t accept fault for.

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The photo above is from World Café Live on Saturday night, where I went to see Kina Grannis (who is somehow even more beautiful and endearing in person) perform.

From just about the second her first boot* peeked out from the lest stage, the whole audience erupted into shouts of “Kina! WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE?” and “we love you!” I think she was a bit overwhelmed when she first walked out – she nervously gave a quick “hi” to the audience before getting right to the first song (“World in Front of Me”). I couldn’t believe how beautiful she sounded in person – no backup vocals (with the exception of audience harmonizers!), no band, just Kina and her guitar – or, for one song, her ukulele. There was a really sweet backstory to the ukulele song: when her grandfather’s ukulele was stolen on her first tour of the East Coast, she tweeted about it to her followers and received a ton of support from her fans. Eventually, some of her fans surprised her with a ukulele they had made in a Hawaiian factory where her grandfather’s was from. All I could think of when she told this story was that only someone as sweet as Kina could have fans that thoughtful and dedicated – they even had her name carved into it. I’ve never seen someone so graciously thank their fans – sometimes you get the sense that performers are so used to the stage that shows don’t really phase them, but Kina appears so humble and thankful for every person in the room while managing to command the stage as though she was born on it.

The highlight (and cutest Kina moment ever) was definitely her performance of “Message from Your Heart.” (Video here!) She stepped away from the microphone, stood at the edge of the stage, and invited the audience to participate in the “bum bum bum” part of the chorus. A few fans offered to harmonize with her, and she ended up bringing them to the front of the room to sing with her. The photo above is of her ending number, standing at the edge of the stage with her harmonizers below her – even from upstairs in the Mezzanine section, the room felt as intimate as a small café rather than World Café Live. According to Rob, this is why Kina will one day rule the world as a peaceful domain…!

* In addition to somehow being even more beautiful in person, Kina has the most adorable outfit on – I was asked to tweet her asking where her boots were from. I got all giddy when she responded, because I can be a total 13-year-old girl sometimes…

And here we are!

(Thank you to Kim at Fans of Kina for re-posting this, and to both Kina and her sister Emi for tweeting about it!)

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allthechocolatesinthebox:

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DAR: A Super Girly Top Secret Comic Diary  » Archive  » Transmen

…is she still receiving death threats over this comic?

Really though, I always felt that she was making fun of herself in this strip, and that its overall meaning was misinterpreted. I completely understand why the comic is triggering and, at least in the first four panels, fetishizes (white, thin, able-bodied, FTM) transgender men, but the last two panels show a certain awareness of her own cis-gender privilege and point out the problem of fetishizing “transmen” pretty directly. I could be wrong, and I don’t remember what she had to say about this comic after the backlash, but overall, I don’t think she gets enough credit…

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