anagramofbrat: (bitch please)
I had amazing day today up until 11pm when I turned on my phone after Burlesque (and four hours unplugged from the internet) and read the Zimmerman verdict.

FUCK.

I'ma just link to this post I wrote back in March of last year. I don't have any more words than that. Anger, sadness, resignation, frustration, the desire to hug my nephews (and I will next week when I see them) yes. Words? No.

My squee about the rest of the day can wait.
anagramofbrat: (anxious tenna)
Not much to my life at the moment other than beads (almost done with the test pattern!) and the supposed Frakenstorm that's supposed to hit this region in the next few days. Yeah, IKR? Yikes.

FIrst the beads:



I'm about four rows from done and will probably just push ahead and finish it up in the next couple hours. As is true with each bead project, lessons were learned ( mostly that CLON thread >>>>>>> Nymo for many many reasons) Also that I have incredibly shitty posture. Trying not to hunch over the beadwork, but it's an ongoing battle. Mostly the lesson I'm taking away from all of this is that each of the screenies are going to require an incredible amount of patience and work.Rah Rah, up to the challenge and stuff, but I'd be lying if I wasn't slightly daunted considering how intense this little 1" and change square has been (Yeah, that thing is a little over an inch wide. Yeah I know. And I'm gearing up to tackle a pattern 9 times that on both sides. Truly I am a crazy woman.)

Also vaguely considering either a wrap for both wrists or a brace. Not that I have carpal tunnel or tendonitis or anything, which is a surprising you would think with the amount I type and the aforementioned shitty posture they would have gone by now, but so far no. I'd sort of like to keep it that way so invesitng in some wrist support might not be the worst idea.

In other news, like most of the East Coast, we are doing a little battening down the hatches for the Frankenstorm we're allegedly getting starting Sunday. I'm usually the one pooh-poohing the inclement weather predictions, especially since Valley weather is its own unique beast and continually defies meteorologist predictions of anything. After last year's freak Halloween snowstorm left errbody without power for several days, though, I'm not quite as dismissive. Drew and I added some emergency supplies to our usual Thursday shopping, though. We'll just have to see how it all goes, but I'm not going to lie, I'm both worried and also rather glad we don't have the kiddos this weekend.

lunchtime.
anagramofbrat: (bitch please)
I have to interrupt the usual stream of silliness and bitching, y'all. It's been a long ass while since something on the news has fucked with me this badly and I'm having all kinds of FEELINGS about it, which is one in a bunch of reasons why I'm not dead asleep right now.

This is going to get long and nasty and thorny and opinionated, and I highly suspect some folk are going to squirm/be triggered/get pissed at me reading it. I'm not cutting it. I'm only barely feeling considerate enough to place a trigger warning in the title. Deal. Or scroll.

So let's talk about this kid for a minute:



This is 17 year old Trayvon Martin. He was shot and killed in Florida on February 26 while walking to a 7-11 to get some candy for his brother. Why? According to the man that shot him, "he looked suspicious." ...Uh huh. I'm totally paraphrasing, by the way, his actual words were far more... chilling is the wrong word, but it's all I've got. No I'm not quoting them, google it.

Earlier this evening police released 911 audio of eight calls made at the time of the shooting. After reading the description of their contents here, I've opted to not listen. I know I wouldn't be able to handle it, and I'm having enough trouble sleeping this evening. The description is enough to have me in some ugly tears.

I wouldn't say there is enough coverage of this out there by way of Twitter, blogs and the news, because there isn't, and frankly, there never is when a kid of color dies. (Pretty confident a lot of you are hearing about this for the first time via this post.) However, most of what I could say about this has been said by people far better at this whole expressing outrage and grief on the internet than I am. The #TrayvonMartin hashtag on twitter pretty much covers it, as well as completely breaks my heart six ways from Sunday.

I will say this though. Between this case, this kid's picture (he don't look like anybody's 17, I'm sorry), all the points people have brought up about the (non)value of black boys in our supposedly post-racial society, looking at the way my sisters and friends of color raise their kids, especially their sons, and all the things I hated but completely understood about how my ex used to behave as a large black man in a 90% white public? I think I'm finally okay with not having children in this lifetime, because this is all shit I would have to deal with and worry about every single day as a Black mother, and y'all... I can't even. I don't know how some of you deal with this and still manage to let your boys out of your sight to live their lives, knowing that they run the VERY FUCKING REAL risk of having their LIVES ENDED for having the audacity to walk down a street in a way that upset someone paler than they are, and 9 times out of 10, said pale person wouldn't catch jack shit for it. Because this isn't an isolated incident, y'all. I wish it was, but this shit's been happening almost every day since most of us brown folk got dragged here in chains. And you know what? It's pretty fucking rough just dealing with that day in and day out, just knowing if you slip up and take a shortcut through the wrong town at the wrong time,* it'll cost you in at best harassment, at worst grievous bodily harm, possibly including death. All because you happen to be somewhat more sun-resistant than Freckle McBlonderson over there. And then add the fact that you have to worry about your kids as well? Ffffffffuuuuuuucccccccck.

Y'all who never have to worry about this shit as you raise your kids? Give some serious fervent thanks to whatever power you hold dear that you don't, cause it sucks. And I'm not going to lie, tonight I resent your privilege in this department more than a little bit. Nope, no exceptions, sorry, I'm not writing any Black Friend Passes today and just as a heads up, the window may remain closed at least through the weekend. Too upset, and fuck you if you don't get why.

I'm not at all optimistic about there being any kind of positive outcome in this case, and it is almost a moot point because even if key people managed to get their collective heads out of their asses and some kind of legal justice was served, Trayvon is still horribly, senselessly dead. The media and the Internet being what they are, his death won't necessarily spark nearly enough outrage to really change anything either because in order to get people outside of the niche that is, say, #blacktwitter to give a shit about black boys dying, some white guys have to make a video about it and make it go viral. Bonus if they then get busted for drug use and public masturbation. That's what makes people pay attention. One sweet-faced teenager just getting his brother some candy and getting shot for his trouble? Well like I sad, Trayvon died on the 26th of February. Why did it take twenty damn days for this to get widespread press? Shit.

All I want to do right now is hug the stuffing out of my nephews and tell them I love them. And cry buckets that it's still so fucked up out there that shit like this can still happen and no one'll say boo, and even if someone does? deaf ears.

Wellp. Until next time, folks. Sadly, there will be one.



* seriously, look up "sundown towns" and "The Green Book" sometime. You'll learn stuff.
anagramofbrat: (sing)
Old school Valley goths'll understand why I'm more likely to lose my shit and fire up ALL the industrial/synth/goth in my collection on Tuesdays. 'Course this week I've been on a synth binge since Sunday. Discovering that there's a club in the midwest somewhere dumping their old playlists onto demonoid hasn't exactly helped, nor has Pandora's industrial channel, so for the first time in a while i've had some new (to me, anyway) stuff to listen to. How the hell had I been going to Haven intermittently from '96 almost on up to its demise last year (when a club night goes to one Tuesday every 3 months, it's dead, who are we kidding) and completely missed "Annie, Would I Lie To You?" i have no idea, but it must qualify as a minor miracle.

It's funny, I have most definitely outgrown the "eyeliner! eyeliner! Interminable angst!" and "Bloody flowers and thornkisses!" bits of gothiness, but the music has definitely stuck with me. VNV Nation, Covenant, Wolfsheim, Assemblage 23 and Apoptygma Berzerk are all in my top ten groups, which, if you consider the fact that that's five bands right there, says something. Something about stompy stompy üntz üntz music just... eh, resonates is a bad word for it, but it does fit. Also it's WICKED fun to drive to. Do yourself a favor and don't be in the car with me if Das Ich's "Destillat" (specifically the VNV Nation remix) is on. The speedometer will quite probably crack 95mph, and you quite probably will die.

An interesting side effect of the goth rabies was staying up late(r) after working until damn near midnight on job #1 stuff (ugh, responsible adulthood) talking music with [livejournal.com profile] cell23 after catching him singing a snatch of Beborn Beton (goth rabies is apparently highly transmissable) and being momentarily flummoxed. Cue an hour or so going through my music collection and discussing the aesthetics of groups like Front 242, London After Midnight and Einstürzende Neubauten, and how I still have a lot of unlistened-to garbage floating around from the dumping of other people's music collections over the years. (Inexplicably, I still have an album or so's worth of [livejournal.com profile] morlock's ICP. Yeah, what, IDEK.) And then we got into weird/outsider music, including Wesley Willis and Songs in the Key of Z and the various out-there music that's come to my attention via various mix tapes [livejournal.com profile] extrajoker and I have exchanged over the years ("She was chopping broccoli!"). It was nice - [livejournal.com profile] cell23 and I tend to get lost in our own separate spheres/rooms/computers so being able to connect and giggle over common music taste was an unexpected treat.

Man, I really should do my podcast again sometime. All this blather about various and sundry just makes me want to dive right back into the Mixmeister mines.

Trufax

Jan. 23rd, 2012 01:49 pm
anagramofbrat: (spanking the princess)
When I was a kid, I used to read Webster's Nth Collegiate dictionary in the bathroom. Really. Today's word, I think is as follows.

Gobsmacked



Etymology

As if smacked (“hit”) in the gob (“mouth (Irish / Scottish gaelic)”).

Attested since 1980s, from Northern English dialect, particularly Liverpool, popularized via television.


Adjective

gobsmacked (comparative more gobsmackedsuperlative most gobsmacked)

  1. (chiefly UK, slang) Flabbergastedastoundedspeechlessoverawed.
    • 1989, Glenn Frankel, "Salman Rushdie's Life on the Run," Los Angeles Times, 7 Aug.,
      We were as appalled and stunned and confused and gobsmacked (punched on the mouth) as anyone else.
    • 2008, Caroline Mallan, "Linwood Barclay novel wins a plug on key UK book list," Toronto Star, 16 Jun., p. A2,
      "I guess the word would be gobsmacked," Barclay said, of his reaction. "I am stunned."



Man, life and the curveballs...
anagramofbrat: (angsty sex)
Fullscreen this. You'll thank me.



Holy shit.




I need to go listen to "We're In This Together" about sixty bazillion times now.

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