I'm liberal, almost to a fault. I love leftist groups that still actually care enough to form something that could result in even the smallest tidal wave in political action. Something I should confess is that I also sometimes hate things that deep down are good for me or for the world. For example...I hated when my Nana would put Wheatgerm on my yummy sugar infested maple brown sugar oatmeal. I expressed skepticism over Mother Theresa's motivations. The Truth commercials make me want to buy stock in Marlboro. I find racist, sexist, ageist, and all kinds of politically incorrect statements hilarious.
That being said, I hate Moveon.org.
Every day I get a new email in my box from them, each one equally ignored. They're relentless. Yet I can't mark their email address as spam. Partially because there are now too many of them to keep track of. But also because that would, by definition, make me a bad liberal. This is what I stand for right? Then why do Eli and Nita aggravate me so?
I'll tell you why. Their damn "subjects". I'll be one to admit that finding the proper subject title for a mass email is difficult. But really, nothing can excuse what I found in my inbox today.
"BOMBING IRAN: NOT FUNNY."
Did anyone think it was? Is there a group of individuals out there using this for stand up material?? Are Bush and Cheney introducing the idea with the statement, "Boy have we got something John Stewart could use tonight....". I don't know. But just like I say about the person who comes up with the Daily News headlines, there has got to be someone better to do this job....
Nita, Eli, do yourself a favor. Find someone better.
Thank you for that free bumper sticker, though.
After my student loan officer, your organization will be the first to know when I've overcome my economic hardship.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
The Fight to Eliminate Static and Have Faith In The Constitution: A Story That Will Never Make Sense on Jupiter
The Fight to Eliminate Static and Have Faith In The Constitution: A Story That Will Never Make Sense on Jupiter
I love my part of Astoria. Mostly for the cheap rent but also because it has yet to really be infiltrated with the "we're young and cool but don't fit in with the hipsters in Brooklyn" establishments and people. Not to say I don't like that area, but my part (technically still Long Island City) is mostly Hispanic and mostly families which makes me feel a little more removed from my day to day life. Most of the business owners and people don't speak English very well which is just fine with me. I don't generally have to converse much except to ask for cigarettes and five dollars in quarters to do laundry. That was until Sunday night. I was doing my laundry and putting my clothes in the dryer. I reached for my dryer sheets that claim to smell like mountain air and lilac (apparently the best duo since peanut butter and jelly) when I felt a tap on my shoulder. A woman in her thirties smiled and pointed.
"What are those?"
"Dryer sheets"
"I no understand"
"They're dryer sheets"
"Yes, but what they do?"
"Um...they prevent static I think"
I really don't know what they do. But ever since my Mom sent me off to college with a box they've become a staple in my laundry supplies. And when placed in a roll of toilet paper they create a device that makes your dorm room smell like clean laundry and pot which is of course far less suspicious than pot alone in your stoned paranoid mind.
"No understand. I see box?"
I gave her the box mostly because she already grabbed it from my hand but also I wanted to see how a woman who spoke very little English could somehow decipher the function of dryer sheets from the English instructions on the box.
"I no understand"
I shrug my shoulder and just say "static" as if suddenly all the pieces will fit together and she'll understand why Bounce created this product. And then she'll be able to explain to me why mountain air and lilac go so well together.
For some reason I flashed back to fifth grade. I had this American history teacher who would constantly test our knowledge of our government by asking, "Let's say someone came down from another planet and had no idea what democracy was or any of the words we use to define it like 'vote' or 'president' or 'law'. How would you explain it to them?"
No one would ever really be able to do it because we'd be stuck on how to explain the word 'go' or 'the'. Plus it's not exactly like we could put our skills to the test. Oh hold on Jimmy let me just call the office and get that boy from Jupiter to come here and see if he understands. If someone ever did come down from Jupiter I thought there were far more interesting things we created on earth than democracy that would need to be explained.
Eventually you just start resorting to ludicrous gestures when words fail. Democracy somehow got reduced to circular motions with our hands and arms and someone walking around pretending like they were the president. In this situation static suddenly became some sort of horizontal motion that looked like I had a giant rubber band between my hands. I even picked up my sweater and fondled it thinking that would really drive the point home. I was tempted to just give her one and tell her to try it but I knew that the lack of effect dryer sheets have would confuse her more than my ridiculous hand motions and offer no explanation as to why American mothers send their children to college with them along with pre-measured blocks of Tide, and a case of Ramen noodles. It would just be an empty promise of improvement.
The democratic system we had in our country has become about as functional as dryer sheets. And Democrats and Republicans actually working together seems as ludicrous as the idea that mountain air and lilac are the best duo since peanut butter and jelly. Travelling outside of the US you get a lot of questions about some of our practices. "Why is New York called the Big Apple?" "How many cups of Starbucks do you drink in a day?" "Why do you think Seinfeld is funny?".
I never get asked about our government or called upon to explain checks and balances using hand gestures and simple verbs. Partially because the answer wouldn't really explain our country as well as the secret behind how a show about nothing kept people interested for almost a decade. Or why a company making bad expensive coffee became the greatest corporation since Mac and IBM. But mostly because people just don't care as much as our fifth grade history text books make us believe. Yes, we have a great country but our revolutionary democracy doesn't really seem to really be as alluring or functional to the outsider. Until very recently I used to get angry about the way our government is functioning. Now I have the same feelings as I do about my dryer sheets. I still care, Still I buy dryer sheets hoping they have an effect on my clothing and think for longer than I should about what would be better: mountain rain and lilac or tangerine and white musk? Just like I still try to believe one day very soon democracy will have definition in our lives again. Or at least make more sense than paying for overpriced coffee.
I love my part of Astoria. Mostly for the cheap rent but also because it has yet to really be infiltrated with the "we're young and cool but don't fit in with the hipsters in Brooklyn" establishments and people. Not to say I don't like that area, but my part (technically still Long Island City) is mostly Hispanic and mostly families which makes me feel a little more removed from my day to day life. Most of the business owners and people don't speak English very well which is just fine with me. I don't generally have to converse much except to ask for cigarettes and five dollars in quarters to do laundry. That was until Sunday night. I was doing my laundry and putting my clothes in the dryer. I reached for my dryer sheets that claim to smell like mountain air and lilac (apparently the best duo since peanut butter and jelly) when I felt a tap on my shoulder. A woman in her thirties smiled and pointed.
"What are those?"
"Dryer sheets"
"I no understand"
"They're dryer sheets"
"Yes, but what they do?"
"Um...they prevent static I think"
I really don't know what they do. But ever since my Mom sent me off to college with a box they've become a staple in my laundry supplies. And when placed in a roll of toilet paper they create a device that makes your dorm room smell like clean laundry and pot which is of course far less suspicious than pot alone in your stoned paranoid mind.
"No understand. I see box?"
I gave her the box mostly because she already grabbed it from my hand but also I wanted to see how a woman who spoke very little English could somehow decipher the function of dryer sheets from the English instructions on the box.
"I no understand"
I shrug my shoulder and just say "static" as if suddenly all the pieces will fit together and she'll understand why Bounce created this product. And then she'll be able to explain to me why mountain air and lilac go so well together.
For some reason I flashed back to fifth grade. I had this American history teacher who would constantly test our knowledge of our government by asking, "Let's say someone came down from another planet and had no idea what democracy was or any of the words we use to define it like 'vote' or 'president' or 'law'. How would you explain it to them?"
No one would ever really be able to do it because we'd be stuck on how to explain the word 'go' or 'the'. Plus it's not exactly like we could put our skills to the test. Oh hold on Jimmy let me just call the office and get that boy from Jupiter to come here and see if he understands. If someone ever did come down from Jupiter I thought there were far more interesting things we created on earth than democracy that would need to be explained.
Eventually you just start resorting to ludicrous gestures when words fail. Democracy somehow got reduced to circular motions with our hands and arms and someone walking around pretending like they were the president. In this situation static suddenly became some sort of horizontal motion that looked like I had a giant rubber band between my hands. I even picked up my sweater and fondled it thinking that would really drive the point home. I was tempted to just give her one and tell her to try it but I knew that the lack of effect dryer sheets have would confuse her more than my ridiculous hand motions and offer no explanation as to why American mothers send their children to college with them along with pre-measured blocks of Tide, and a case of Ramen noodles. It would just be an empty promise of improvement.
The democratic system we had in our country has become about as functional as dryer sheets. And Democrats and Republicans actually working together seems as ludicrous as the idea that mountain air and lilac are the best duo since peanut butter and jelly. Travelling outside of the US you get a lot of questions about some of our practices. "Why is New York called the Big Apple?" "How many cups of Starbucks do you drink in a day?" "Why do you think Seinfeld is funny?".
I never get asked about our government or called upon to explain checks and balances using hand gestures and simple verbs. Partially because the answer wouldn't really explain our country as well as the secret behind how a show about nothing kept people interested for almost a decade. Or why a company making bad expensive coffee became the greatest corporation since Mac and IBM. But mostly because people just don't care as much as our fifth grade history text books make us believe. Yes, we have a great country but our revolutionary democracy doesn't really seem to really be as alluring or functional to the outsider. Until very recently I used to get angry about the way our government is functioning. Now I have the same feelings as I do about my dryer sheets. I still care, Still I buy dryer sheets hoping they have an effect on my clothing and think for longer than I should about what would be better: mountain rain and lilac or tangerine and white musk? Just like I still try to believe one day very soon democracy will have definition in our lives again. Or at least make more sense than paying for overpriced coffee.
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