Something for a Friday

5 Things I Am Afraid Of:

• Getting stuck in an elevator
• Scuba diving
• Death in my immediate family
• Public speaking and performing
• Causing a toilet to overflow somewhere that is not my home

5 Fears I Have Conquered:

• Cutting all my hair off
• Touching my eyeball/putting in contact lenses
• Getting a brazilian wax
• Quitting my stable job in order to pursue something that may or may not work out
• Traveling alone

5 Things I Am Good At:

• Sensing the moment at which the conversation turns from "playful!" to "...awkward" and thinking up something to say to change the mood
• Cooking with what I have in my fridge at any given moment
• Walking in heels
• Vocabulary words
• Packing

5 Things I Am Bad At:

• Remembering to mail my rent check so it arrives on the 1st instead of leaving my mailbox on the 1st
• Estimating distance and the time it will take to travel said distance
• Getting up on time
• Not getting distracted by shiny objects
• Studying if I know there's not going to be a test

5 Things I Want To Get Better At:

• Keeping my closet organized
• Getting enough sleep
• Dancing in nightclubs
• Giving other people the benefit of the doubt
• Returning phone calls

5 Things I Will Never Be Able To Do and Therefore Covet The Ability To Do Said Things In Others:

• Be the life of the party
• The splits
• Act
• Speak English with a convincing foreign accent
• Stay friends after breaking up

5 Things I Wouldn't Give Up, Not For Anything:

• Good rhythm
• Willingness to taste any food put in front of me
• My fantastic and inspiring friends
• A good relationship with my parents
• My faith

5 Things I Would Be Lying If I Told You I Wouldn't Sell My Soul To Possess:

• A six-pack
• A lucrative career as a photojournalist
• An old house with a veranda
• Thicker skin (in the metaphorical sense)
• A clear complexion

The Price of Freedom is Eternal Vigilance

Most of you know, and some of you don't, that I come from a conservative background, where Republicanism was sort of assumed, not necessarily in my family, but definitely in the community. We were calm and had a general idea that we should let our political voices be heard, we should vote, we should make sure we voted for people with our values, but we were not a protesting people. We did not stream into the streets, we looked with disdain upon what we saw as brash, liberal, dangerous actions of the ACLU, we generally support authorities unless they were Really, Really Bad, bad enough to make you go against your religious beliefs, etc. It is my nature to protest, perhaps, by writing a letter to my congressman, and not much else. I am not an extremist. I (like most Americans, I think) believe profoundly in the self-correcting system of democracy: the pendulum will always swing back.

However, since moving to DC and becoming much more politically active, my attitude has changed. I have begun attending marches in protest of the war (some of my high school friends are shocked at this, I suspect...:) ), and especially in protest of the looming war with Iran, out of the simple conviction that our discontent with the current state of affairs needs to be seen in throngs of unhappy citizens on the streets. I have had for years now the vague sense that something isn't right with our democracy, but I didn't know what it was, and I didn't have the words, motivation, or education to really figure it out; nor did I really even believe there was something TO figure out.

On Monday I went to a book signing with Naomi Wolf, a Yale-educated writer whose latest book, The End of America is very easy to read, thorough, and short. It's the number 10 bestseller on Amazon, but she hasn't had any media requests to discuss her book on the major networks (unlike her first book, The Beauty Myth.)

The book is chilling. She researched 6 governments who have, in the last century, shifted from democratic open societies to fascist/dictatorial closed societies: 1930s Germany, Italy, Chile, China, etc. She found that there are 10 predictable steps in the blueprint of a fascist shift.

She found that the current state of American policy is lining up precisely with the blueprint. For example, the first step is to invoke an internal or external threat, real or invented, as a national unifier. The following steps are to establish secret prisons, a paramilitary force, to surveil ordinary citizens, restrict the press...

With just a little research, provided by Ms. Wolf, any ordinary citizen can see that this blueprint, which was effectively used by Stalin, Mussolini, Hitler, and other dictators and would-be dictators, is remarkably resonant with what is happening in American today. The secret prison and daily torture, legal or illegal, at Guantanamo, the case of Jose Padilla, the invoking of 9/11 and the "war on terrorism" to justify violations of civil liberties, the presence and continued growth of paramilitary forces such as Blackwater (a military force not held accountable to military law), the increased wiretapping, confiscation of normal citizens' computers, the orchestrated firing of journalists and university professors for disagreement with the administration, the coordination between the White House and the mass media (also see the book and/or film War Made Easy by Norman Solomon) the fact that the President can now deem anyone - including you or me - an "enemy combatant."

These things all upset me before, and I recognized them as infringements of our rights, but only when I saw it so clearly presented was I struck with the realization that they aren't individual freak occurrences, but could be the result of a master plan that could-and will--eventually result in a closed, dictatorial society. Of course, it's not a sure thing: this theory could be wrong. But examine the evidence, piece it together, and you find a dangerous trend: anyone in a place of power with enough smarts and menace could easily, easily, manipulate this situation and close the door on American society. As Ms. Wolf said in her talk, "Can anyone name a country that opened secret prisons that did not eventually become a dictatorial state? ... No one can, because there isn't one."

This is urgent: the pendulum may not swing back. It doesn't matter where you stand politically, it doesn't matter who you voted for, it doesn't matter what your religion, race, or creed is. It doesn't matter what you think of the ACLU or of Republicans or Democrats or liberals. This is about the whole of American citizenry. Please read her book, or at least the interview with buzzflash.com (which is basically what she said in her talk and is very thorough) and then that you do something with this information.

You can also visit www.americanfreedomcampaign.org to voice your commitment to upholding the constitution, petition the upcoming presidential candidates to uphold the constitution and be informed of upcoming events. It's a first step, and an important one. Because even if we're not on the edge of a totalitarian state, shouldn't we as Americans hold the government accountable for what makes America America? Shouldn't all detainees have the right to formal charges and a fair trial? Shouldn't we hold habeus corpus sacred for everyone, even suspected terrorists? Shouldn't we outlaw torture in ALL cases? Should there even be a debate about these fundamental rights?!

I have to take this seriously because the pieces fit together almost too beautifully for it to be a mistake.

The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

Poem Spree!

From the dawn of your smile on me I could see
Its magnificence might cause a fatality
For it lit up the whole night and warmed me like sunlight,
Inspired my surrender: a white flag at first sight.
I couldn't resist the allure of your lips,
And the smile in your kiss tastes like mist and rose hips:
So fresh, like the first glimpse of sunrise. I know I
Am in way too deep to pretend I can keep my
Emotion a secret-I know you can see it.
My love was inside, and your smile unleashed it.

And that was my demise, not the light in your eyes,
Nor the glow of your skin or the way your hand glides
On my hair. No, its there: above your clefted chin
Where the tan of your whiskers turns into pink skin
Of your lips, turning up like the curve of your cup,
Framing pearls of your teeth. You don't know how to stop
Tempting me. So you see, to that smile I'm a slave,
Don't know how to behave since the moment you gave
Me that grin- I gave in. I give in. And you win.
And I hope I have something that you delight in,
That inspires your poems and fills up your dreams
The way I am inspired when your smile beams
For then you understand what I try to describe:
Mere words can't convey what your smile does inside.


If one day I awoke and I found that you'd gone
My world would collapse and I'd find before long
That its easiest to forget things I loved so:
The slant of your cheekbones, the flare of your nose.
The shade of your eyelids, the silk in your touch,
The lilt of your voice... might not haunt me...too much...
And little by little I may seem less bereaved,
But that smile-your smile- it might never leave.



---



We've been frequenting Open Mic at Busboys and Poets on Tuesday nights, and I've been inspired by the great - and sometimes mediocre - poetry. I decided to dust off my writing cap and try my hand at it since I do enjoy poetry and also want to exercise my writing muscles (particularly as I prepare to write grad school essays...) I've started with easy, inspiring things: Sasan's voice, which was the first thing I noticed about him; his smile; and a heartfelt plea for forgiveness (Have you ever felt like that? Don't you hate it? That urgent, humiliating, nauseating realization that you - yes you - have done something so beneath you?)



Next, maybe I'll tackle something more socially aware. Like the war.

Asking for Forgiveness

My heart can't sleep, my eyes can't weep.
I prostrate myself at your feet,
Hands held up, weak, for you to speak
Forgiveness into my parched ears.

Your words - my manna from above -
Condmening my negligent love
Will also nourish that part of
My heart that's longing to be near

To you...I write these humble words
To put my penance into verse,
In hopes that I can break the curse
My foolish actions brought on me.

For if a poem my transgression
Then a poem my redemption:
Please forgive my indiscretion.
Come from heaven, set me free.

Sasan's Voice

The drizzle of his chocolate voice into my ear was not my choice.
But his lips part, my heartbeat starts Kaleidoscoping abstract art-
Like rain on the Serengeti pounds sandcastles of confetti
Into a pulse of colored flecks...his cocoa kisses on my neck
Feel like a rainstorm's throbbing drum, within my ears, upon my tongue.
Kahlua's an intoxicant, dark chocolate's antioxidant
But leave to me my drug of choice, my only fix: his velvet voice.