women are too nice

By Ralph Dobrin

In past generations the most libellous statements against Jews were often made by other Jews who had left the fold, and were eager to demonstrate their loyalty to their new-found identities and faith. There was always a number (probably a tiny minority) who deeply hated their erstwhile Jewish identity because it had been the reason for the discrimination they had suffered and hence the source of their misery. But nowadays, Jews aren’t discriminated against like they were in previous centuries, so one would think that there is no longer such a pressing impetus for Jewish self-hate or the need to vociferously disclaim their ethnic or religious roots like in the past.

Yet there are many Jews in the world, as well as in Israel, who make inflammatory accusations against Israel or instigate highly damaging actions. I’m not talking about criticism of actual procedures like house demolitions, or detainment of arrested Arab youngsters together with adults – controversial actions that are dismaying to any decent person, but which might well be understood in the light of the ongoing terror war waged against Israel. No, I mean outright factual fabrications and hostile actions instigated by Jews in various parts of the world, and even in Israel itself. I’m also referring to criticism of actual procedures without considering what prompted them.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of constructive criticism, especially when it’s based on fact. I think that everyone should be able to express themselves about whatever they think is a wrongness, no matter who they are or where they live, as long as they know what they are talking about. Regarding Israel, I’d go so far as to say that even criticism directed at it, which is not motivated by good-will, is nevertheless valid and even constructive from Israel’s point of view – as long as it is not based on falsehood.

Many Jews in Israel and abroad are genuinely disturbed by what they perceive as a lack of morality on Israel’s part. Pictures of Israeli soldiers patrolling menacingly in Arab towns do not convey an impression of humaneness and common decency on Israel’s part. Each military flare-up produces pictures of devastation and dead Arabs – often children – on the television screens of the world, and they fill many a Jewish heart with deep dismay, shame and anger – in the same way that any decent person seeing these pictures would feel.

The trouble is that the pictures seldom provide the background to each scene of mayhem inflicted on Arabs by Israel’s air force or ground troops. They seldom if ever, remind viewers that for over three generations, Arabs have been attacking Jews, often with the stated intention of killing ordinary civilians, including women and children. Pictures do not mention that a mangled, burning car in Gaza, hit by Israeli helicopters, was being used by terrorists driving to their next rocket-firing position. Pictures of dead Arab women and children never mention that terrorists were shooting at Israeli villages from the homes of these people, actually using them as human shields. Also, as has been often proved, many pictures are actually staged by Arab photographers, intent on creating a demonic image of Israel. The 2002 battle in Jenin was a classic example. So was the shameful, recently exposed Muhammad al-Durrah affair.

JEWS HAVE ALWAYS OPPOSED INJUSTICE

Since the latter part of the nineteenth century, Jews, especially in the democratic countries, had been in the forefront of every struggle for equality and justice. They were in the forefront in the struggle for real equality and civil rights for the blacks in America, and in apartheid South Africa, it was Jews who formed a major part of the white activists who risked jail and beatings, as well as exile. So it is natural that Jews should have qualms about the plight of Arabs living under Israeli jurisdiction in Judea and Samaria, and de facto independence in Gaza.

However, the dismay felt by many Jews around the world is mainly due to misinformation doled out by skillful spin artists, most of whom are Arabs, but also a number of eloquent Jews. Inform these good people of the real facts and many of them will eventually change their tune – and possible with a great sense of relief that they had been wrong about the morality of their people in Israel.

However, not all Jews who are appalled by what they perceive as Israeli brutality, are motivated in their condemnation of Israel by sentiments of pure compassion for the hapless Arabs. Many of these people are well aware of the true facts behind the Israel-Arab conflict, but they choose to ignore any Arab aggression and eagerly latch onto every Israeli reaction to Arab attacks as though Israel is the exclusively guilty party.

ACADEMICS SHOULD KNOW BETTER

The first major academic boycott attempt against Israel was initiated a few years ago by British Professors, husband and wife Steven and Hilary Rose, both Jews, who were central figures in the British National Association of Teacher in Further and Higher Education. This set the ball rolling among university lecturers around the world, reaching far-off Australia, where one of the initiators was yet another well-known Jewish academic, John Docker.

When reading material written by these people, one gets the impression that they are deeply concerned about their fellow human beings. But like with most anti-Israel activists, in their version of the situation, there is never any mention of the Arab aggression which from the very outset set off the conflict, and only one side of the conflict is always completely in the wrong – Israel.  But what was surprising with the Rose boycott initiative was that the hundreds of academics who signed the Israel boycott agreement, included ten Israeli academics tenured in top Israeli universities.

One of the most outspoken of these Israelis is Ilan Pappe, formerly from Haifa University, now a professor of history at Exeter University in England. He often mentions massacres perpetrated by Israel that never occurred, including the lie that Israeli committed a massacre in Jenin in 2002, despite copious refutation (including United Nations reports) of the bogus claim.

What drives Pappe and others like him to propagate the damaging lies and libel against his own country. It is not because he doesn’t have the facts. After all, the man was born in Israel, served in the army and is a professor of history. Yet he has stated that for him, facts are irrelevant and that truth will not deter the Jewish state's detractors. He says: “I am not as interested in what happened but in how people see what's happened.” (Le Soir [Bruxelles],Nov. 29, 1999).

Does his ability to twist facts stem from his affiliation with Communist ideology? (In 1996 Pappé ran in the Knesset elections on Hadash list.) Or does he carry the twisted Jewish self-hate bug, or is he simply a born rebel, opposed to anything that might seem mainstream? Whatever the answer, his activities are damaging to the Jewish people and to the State of Israel. Freedom of expression is an important value, but it should not be abused. Expression should always be based on truthfulness. What a monumental irony when academics tenured at prestigious universities, flout this principle!

And sadly there is a long list of prominent Jewish academics, many of whom are Americans – some at the forefront of their respective fields. Among the more well-known of these people are Noam Chomsky and Norman Finkelstein who are frequently interviewed by various media channels and who deliver talks on their pet subject – Israel’s culbability in the Middle East tragedy. Prof. Finkelstein routinely compares Israelis with Nazis and compounds this crude observation by praising the “heroic resistance of Hezbollah to foreign occupation.”

Actually, it is the Arabs who suffer just as badly from all the one-sided condemnation of Israel, because it encourages them further to continue attacking Israel in their quest to weaken or destroy the Jewish state, which naturally leads to military retaliation, thereby perpetuating Arab misery. If I were an Arab leader, commited to the welfare of my people, I would beg these Jews to desist in their anti-Israel activities.

THEY HAVE TO BE COMBATTED

There are also hundreds and possibly thousands of other Jews actively churning out libellous material against Israel – some of it based on the fabrications and falsehoods of the above-mentioned people or inspired by them. There are also a few Jews who faithfully swell the ranks of anti-Israel demonstrations, or who help fill campus halls to boo and shout down anyone trying to tell the Israel-Arab conflict like it really is. There are also widely read columnists and bloggers. It’s quite possible that a sizeable percentage of these Jews are very decent, concerned human beings, courageously making a stand against what they deem is a terrible injustice. But they all base their notions on one-sided, usually totally false sources of information. These are the people who have to be contacted and engaged in a sober dialogue by anyone with a reasonable amount of relevant knowledge.

Whenever I get a mailing that bashes Israel, using lies, I respond. I enjoy getting into discussions with Israel’s detractors. (I never wage an argument – that never helps.) I think I might have helped tone down a few anti-Israel activists (Jewish and non-Jewish) and possibly even caused a shift in their perceptions of the Israel-Arab conflict.

But my activities in this field are still on a tiny scale. Occasionally, however, I am stumped by someone’s assertion or counter to something I have said, even though I think I have a pretty good knowledge of the conflict.

I know that there are many people in Israel and abroad who have a far greater knowledge of the facts than I have. Many also have ready access to factually-accurate ready-made answers to tough questions. I think that there is an urgent need for greater corroboration between individuals and organizations to pool their resources in order to combat more effectively the anti-Israel activities waged by Jews and non-Jews alike – on a one-on-one basis. I would be very glad to work together with others on this vital endeavor. Please regard this as a personal call if you can help. 

For more specific information on how to get bashers to question the validity of their notions, click:

http://truthandsurvival.wordpress.com/2008/02/29/how-to-deal-with-israel-bashers/ 

OTHER SOURCES

The other day my friend Prof. Kenny Preiss sent me a site created by Maurice Ostroff, which is truly brilliant and is highly recommendable: http://maurice-ostroff.tripod.com/

I also have added a short list of other very fine sites providing excellent information on the Israel-Arab conflict. I get a definite impression that all the people running the sites mentioned below are very careful about presenting facts that are as accurate as possible. There are also dozens of other fine, comprehensive, helpful sites on the web, that I haven’t yet had time to check out properly and I apologise to all those fine people whose sites I have not listed here.

www.israpundit.com

www.infoisrael.net

www.israelbehindthenews.com

www.pmw.org.il

www.israelandtruth.org

After reading this heartbreaking story about an autistic kindergarten student who was publicly humiliated by his teacher and voted out of class by his classmates, I sent the following email to the St. Lucie County School Board:

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to express my sadness and outrage regarding the abuse of Alex Barton, a five year old kindergarten student at Morningside Elementary School.

I don't understand a lot about autism, but I know a thing or two about common decency and what Wendy Portillo did to Alex Barton was anything but decent.

No child should be subjected to the humiliation, shame and bullying that Ms. Portillo advocated and encouraged in her kindergarten class. If what she did doesn't meet the criteria for emotional abuse, I'd like to know what does, and perhaps the criteria needs to be changed.

Not only was Ms. Portillo's behavior toward Alex unthinkable and cruel, she also set an extremely poor example for the other students by modeling and encouraging this type of hatefulness and bullying. I think she should apologize to Alex and his family, the other students and their families, and then issue an apology to the general public for her violation of common human decency.

If Ms. Portillo is ever allowed back inside a classroom, it should only be after extensive training and counseling relevant to the situation.

Regards,
[Name]

Watch the video of Melissa Barton's interview with CBS News.

If you would like to voice your concerns, please visit A Room Of Mama's Own for a complete list of contact details, including an email address where you can send a message of support to Alex and his family.

Je pense donc je mange

Le prolifique philosophe Michel Onfray a osé s'intéresser à l'insipide estomac des beaux esprits penseurs. Brisant la distinction absurde entre le corps bassement matériel et l'âme vaporeuse, il démontre avec style comment la pensée est la résultante d'un corps particulier qui vit dans une époque donnée et mange à sa façon. On peut toutefois s'astreindre la lecture de ce livre (c'est un auteur à l'abris du besoin). Le ventre des philosophes: Critique de la raison diététique n'apporte à vrai dire pas plus d'informations essentielles que le titre et l'idée Nietzschéenne que le corps et l'esprit sont finalement intimement liés. Adieu vieux dualisme. Il faut toutefois rendre hommage à ce titre magnifique teinté d'un beau clin d'oeil à Kant, rendu alcoolique dans le livre, a priori pour le bien de la cause.

Projet de façade pour le restaurant "A Gargantua" - Paul Dufresne

Les corps pensants sont donc intimement liés avec ce qu'ils mangent. Les exemples abondent en ce sens. L'approche infructueuse de Siddhārtha Gautama, le bouddha, pratiquant une ascèse sévère en ne mangeant qu'un grain de riz par jour pour trouver la vérité, prend finalement conscience que sa pensée en est ralenti. Il en tire la conséquence qu'une pensée juste ne peut naître que dans un corps en harmonie, bien nourri et en bonne santé. De même l'abrutissement qui découle de la faim la plus sévère est une évidente corrélation que nos esprits aux estomacs correctement remplis ont naturellement tendance à oublier. Enfin, plus proche de nous, il suffit de réaliser notre dépendance psychologique face à certains produits comme le sucre raffiné, le chocolat, le café ou encore le thé. Certaines personnes expriment très clairement leur sentiment de dépression sans cacao, de fatigue sans café ou sans leur dose de sucre quotidien.

Liberalisons l'alimentation

Comme le démontre très justement Jean-Claude Michéa dans son excellent essai L'empire du moindre mal, le libéralisme est fondé sur le droit et le marché pour garantir la moins pire des sociétés possibles. Le droit assure que les hommes puissent vivre ensemble tant que leur conception du bien n'empiète pas sur celle des autres. De plus, par le doux commerce et le libre marché les viles passions humaines seront canaliser. Par conséquent, la paix de la société dépend de la bonne santé de l'économie et donc dogmatise l'idée de croissance qui est le garant. Dans ce contexte, les pratiques alimentaires de notre civilisation libérale sont à l'image du projet. Il n'existe aucune limite à la consommation et au type de consommation. La société n'est pas là pour vous dire quoi manger et en quelle quantité tant que cela ne nuit pas à autrui.

Omelette faite maison - Jackass

Auto-cannibalisme - Hannibal de Ridley Scott

Si l'omelette faite maison est certes dégoutante cela n'en reste pas moins completement possible. De même que l'auto-cannibalisme est tout à fait praticable dans une société libérale tant que la personne mangée est tout à fait consentante. La fiction du film de Ridley Scott rejoint la réalité dans le cas désormais célèbre du cannibale de Rotenbourg. En effet, deux cannibales se sont rencontrés sur internet dont l'un exprimait le désir d'être mangé et l'autre le désir de manger quelqu'un. Armin Meiwes, celui qui a survécu à ce macabre contrat, déclare garder de son compagnon un souvenir "intense et positif". Aucun principe moral libéral n'empêche ce genre de pratique. C'est seulement par respect pour la vie, et donc seulement en faisant appel à des valeurs métaphysiques forcément extérieures aux idées libérales, que l'homme a été condamné par la justice. L'incohérence est donc totale entre une société qui autorise d'un coté l'avortement ou la peine de mort et bannie d'un autre le cannibalisme consentant. Bien heureusement, de telles pratiques alimentaires choquent le bon sens; ce que Orwell, repris par Jean-Claude Michéa, appelle la common decency.

La common decency est "le sentiment intuitif des choses qui ne doivent pas se faire, non seulement si l'on veut rester digne de sa propre humanité, mais surtout si l'on cherche à maintenir les conditions d'une existence quotidienne véritablement commune".

Jean-Claude Michéa

Cette common decency est à rapprocher de l'idée développée dans ce site du panmetron grec, à savoir instaurer comme valeur commune la mesure en toutes choses. Castoriadis parle d'auto-limitation, Latouche parlerais de décroissance, d'autres de simplicité volontaire. Pour le dire simplement, ce n'est pas parce qu'il est possible qu'il est souhaitable d'exercer sa liberté. Par exemple, il est concevable de manger son propre bras gauche, toutefois il n'est pas souhaitable de le faire.

En effet, il faut distingue deux libertés très différentes. La première consiste à faire ce que l'on veut et donc n'avoir aucune barrières quand à l'action. C'est la liberté selon l'état de nature. L'autre forme de liberté est celle d'un "troc" d'une partie de sa liberté naturelle contre une contrainte qui apporte une liberté plus grande. Rousseau parle alors de contrat social. Un exemple est nécessaire: un homme peut tuer une autre personne, il en a la possibilité physique de le faire. Prendre un couteau, l'enfoncer dans le cœur de l'autre. Par contre, il est une liberté plus grande qui consiste à troquer cette première forme de liberté contre une interdiction. Paradoxalement, la contrainte apporte plus de liberté car par le tabou du meurtre les hommes peuvent évoluer la crainte qu'à n'importe quel moment un semblable sorte son couteau pour le tuer. Loin de moi l'idée de rétablir des dogmes, mais il y a toutefois la nécessité de créer le cadre d'une société où les individus peuvent apprendre à se fixer des limites par eux-même. On rejoins donc ici la nécessité de l'apprentissage de l'autonomie par chacun. La société ne dois pas imposer des dogmes rigides mais apprendre aux citoyens les moyens de l'autonomie. A ce titre la critique d'Ivan Illich de l'école et son incapacité à transmettre des savoirs autonomisants est tout à fait pertinente. (Ivan Illich - Une société sans école) L'autonomie dans le cas de l'alimentation est l'apprentissage de tenants et des aboutissants de son alimentation, de la production aux effets sur son propre corps. Puis, après avoir diagnostiquer, avoir la capacité de le mettre en pratique dans sa propre vie. C'est le chemin que suivra la suite de cet article.

Et nous nous péterons la panse

La société libérale ne fixe pas de limite mais elle a par contre besoin de croissance. Et pour l'avoir il faut que nous consommons le plus possible. Sous le choc des attentats du 11 septembre, dans son discours à la nation, George Bush conseille : "soyez de bons patriotes, consommez". Tout est dit, le système tient avec notre croissance effrénée des ressources. Il faut donc faire consommer le plus possible car cette même consommation nous permet d'entretenir notre richesse. Le marketing va donc au devant des désirs réels des gens et en vont créer de faux-besoins, c'est à dire des envies que l'on n'aurait pas eu sans aucune promotion. Le système stimule donc ce qui est appétant et vend par conséquence facilement et sans limites des produits gras et sucrés. Finalement, et cela n'est un secret pour personne, cela favorise l'obésité qui est importante dans les pays occidentaux. Par exemple en France, selon l'OCDE, une personne sur dix souffre d'obésité et une sur trois de surpoids. Les conséquences sont dramatiques car des discours contradictoires circulent dans la société entre la culpabilisation des gros qui ne sont à l'opposé du canon de beauté véhiculé par ces mêmes publicités qui vont également nous incliner à manger sans se priver de produits gras et sucré. A ce titre, l'anorexie est une maladie liée à une recherche de maigreur dont on ne trouve plus la limite, et dont une des causes est évidemment ce rapport impossible entre la nourriture à la fois bonne (plaisir) et mauvaise (non minceur), propre aux sociétés occidentales.

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Matraquage - Pub de Dove (hypocrites puisqu'ils y participent)

Notre rapport à l'alimentation est gravement perturbé et les conséquences sont très importantes. Surcout du système de santé d'une part (obésité, cancer, risques cardio-vasculaires, troubles des conduites alimentaires (TAC), diabète de type 2, hypertension) mais aussi tout simplement la tristesse régulière des gens mal dans leur peau et encore bien sûr les violences morales subies par les gros de manière générale.

Il ne faut pas mépriser le rôle énormément politique du mangé et du boire. C'est l'incapacité du système économique dépendant de la croissance et l'interdiction libérale d'imposer des normes dans la sphère privée qui empêchent fortement la promotion de pratiques frugales, saines et pourvoyeuses de bien-être (image de soi positive, plaisir et santé).

Eviter la grande bouffe

Il faut alors que nous (ré)apprenions à bien manger, tel est l'impératif qui découle de ce constat. La plupart des gens qui nourrissent une réflexion sur leurs pratiques alimentaires arrivent finalement, avec des variations individuelles liées au corps et aux croyances, sur des pratiques semblables.

Tout d'abord, celui de ne plus polluer la planète. Il est de notoriété publique que le modèle agricole majoritaire est destructif des hommes et de l'environnement. En écrivant ceci, je pense au soja du brésil qui favorise le front de déforestation de l'Amazonie, l'état catastrophique des rivières et des plages bretonnes comme conséquence de l'élevage intensif (utilisant comme aliment du soja du brésil (cqfd), les paysages industriels en openfield, la chute inquiétante de la population des abeilles qui sont indispensables à la pollinisation d'un grand nombre de nos cultures, les cancers développés par les travailleurs-esclaves dûs aux épandages massifs par avion de pesticides dans les plantations de bananes en Équateur , etc.

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Cochons de nitrates - Renaud de Saint Marc et Pierre Affre

Un tel constat a pour conséquence la recherche d'approvisionnements basés sur des modes de production respectueux de l'environnement. L'agriculture biologique est aujourd'hui la pratique la plus diffusée à ce niveau et représente un secteur marginal mais prometteur. Elle est malheureusement bridée par son coût élevé qui la met hors de portée des classes moyennes et pauvres qui ne demandent pas autre chose que de pouvoir également manger des produits plus "propres". Des opérations de démocratisation comme "manger bio et autrement à la cantine" restent à la discrétion de collectivités et globalement marginales.

Ensuite, il y a la volonté de manger de meilleurs produits. A ce titre, l'effort pathétique mais efficace du système agro-industriel pour nous faire manger des produits soi-disant à l'ancienne est tout à fait révélateur du désir profond des consommateur de retrouver le souvenir des bons produits du terroir et du mode d'alimentation sain des générations précédentes.

De plus, cette réflexion mène souvent a considérer notre rapport avec la consommation de viande. En effet, cette dernière est tout d'abord fortement polluante par des gestions des déjections parfois imparfaites mais aussi par le système de production de fourrage qui les rend possible. De plus, la fabrication d'une calorie animale nécessitant en moyenne la production de 7 calories végétales, les élevages sont particulièrement gourmand en terre. Dans un contexte de rarefaction des terres disponibles pour nourrir l'humanité c'est en élément aggravant. De plus, les feedlots (engraissage à forte concentration de bovins), les élevages industriels de poulets en batteries, les porcheries gigantesques sont tout particulièrement polluant. Ensuite, il est aussi possible de prendre en compte le fait que notre alimentation est diététiquement parlant beaucoup trop carné. A ce titre, il convient de dire que la consommation de protéines animale n'est absolument pas vitale pour la bonne santé d'un être humain. Enfin, lorsque l'on a été témoin de l'abattage d'un animal et que l'on sait que l'on ne pourrait soi-même tuer cette animal et lui infliger cette souffrance, il est également logique de réduire fortement sa consommation voire même d'arrêter.

[googlevideo=http://video.google.fr/videoplay?docid=4093730216074063220]

Earthlings

L'école du bien manger

A travers ces exemples j'espère avoir montrer toute l'importance de ce que l'on mange. Ce diagnostique rendu simplissime par internet et les nouveaux modes de communication est partagé par un nombre toujours plus grand de personnes. De nombreuses initiatives convergent vers le bien manger. Le mouvement Slow food a été inventé en Italie en réaction à la malbouffe des Fast food. Au programme, la redécouverte du lien social et des produits du terroir en prenant le temps de cuisiner et de manger des productions respectueuses de l'environnement en se régalant. Un programme hédoniste qui n'est pas sans déplaire à Michel Onfray qui est le fondateur de l'université populaire du goût d'Argentan. Cette curieux lieu de savoir se propose également de partager autour du mangé et de la cuisine, rendant à notre occupation de "boucher le trou" toute sa noblesse philosophique. Qui n'a jamais voulu manger du bon pain et du fromage en compagnie d'Epicure? Enfin, pour finir sur ces quelques initiatives pleines de vies, on pourra aussi s'approvisionner solidairement avec un agriculteur péri-urbain en bons fruits et légumes en s'insérant ou en créant une AMAP (Association pour le Maintien d'une Activité Paysanne). Enfin pour les chanceux qui habitent à la campagne où disposent d'un jardin familial la production autonome de légumes restent sur toutes ces questions le moyen parfait pour mettre la théorie en pratique.

When a prisoner breaks out of jail, beats the system and gets off Scott free, the jailbirds left behind will cheer for the lucky bastard.  Know why?  Because it means that there is hope for them, too.  Well, I am breaking out of jail, I am beating the system, and all you bitches can do is alert the night watchman?  You’re sick!  Each and every one of you!

I am not telling you people to quit or to not quit smoking.  It is none of my business, and me telling you what to do won’t make it easier for you to quit.  Quitting is hard to do and you have to be absolutely dedicated in order for it to work.  What I am doing is insisting that you have a better attitude when faced by a recent quitter?  They are having a craving every 27.5 minutes (or at least I am) and are faced with temptation for 90% of the day and have stepped back and said “No, thanks.” Every time!  Have some respect for that and stop trying to fuck up their track record by slinging doubt and smoke in their faces.    Because if they can dodge the slings and arrows of the tobacco companies, that means that there is hope for you, too. 

So give a quitter a pat on the back and some friendly words of encouragement, or I will chase you down with my tire iron!

When a prisoner breaks out of jail, beats the system and gets off Scott free, the jailbirds left behind will cheer for the lucky bastard.  Know why?  Because it means that there is hope for them, too.  Well, I am breaking out of jail, I am beating the system, and all you bitches can do is alert the night watchman?  You’re sick!  Each and every one of you!

I am not telling you people to quit or to not quit smoking.  It is none of my business, and me telling you what to do won’t make it easier for you to quit.  Quitting is hard to do and you have to be absolutely dedicated in order for it to work.  What I am doing is insisting that you have a better attitude when faced by a recent quitter?  They are having a craving every 27.5 minutes (or at least I am) and are faced with temptation for 90% of the day and have stepped back and said “No, thanks.” Every time!  Have some respect for that and stop trying to fuck up their track record by slinging doubt and smoke in their faces.    Because if they can dodge the slings and arrows of the tobacco companies, that means that there is hope for you, too. 

So give a quitter a pat on the back and some friendly words of encouragement, or I will chase you down with my tire iron!

BC: So, we were invited to a dinner party. Do you want to go?

Me: Sure.

BC: The thing is, my friend asked me if we could host it here because she lives with a bunch of Japanese stoner undergrads who just sit in front of the TV and play video games all day.

Me: Um, okay. What are your feelings about that?

BC: Well, I told her I thought it was fine but that I'd have to ask you.

Me: Nice.

BC: What?

Me: Nothing. It's fine. Guess we better start cleaning.

I don't know when it was exactly that I found out we wouldn't be hosting the dinner, but it definitely wasn't before Friday or Saturday. Deep breaths, no big deal.

Jump to Sunday afternoon, when BC and I both felt like we'd been hit by 18-wheelers. Torch and her current flame were in town so we partied a little too hard Saturday night and consequently did not get enough sleep. By Sunday afternoon all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and watch the Red Sox get pulverized with my face in a vat of scrambled eggs and hash browns. Little did I know, all of my dreams were about to be crushed.

Dinner was supposed to begin at 7, and it was supposed to be a potluck. BC and I had picked up a bottle of local sparkling cider at a liquor store earlier that day, and it was my plan to bring some kind of dessert. I pestered BC into asking his friend what we were supposed to bring. Here is how that conversation went:

Me: So what are we supposed to bring?

BC: I dunno. She said whatever.

Me: Well, what do you mean whatever. What are we having for the main course.

BC: I dunno. I don't think it really matters. She didn't specify.

Me: Okay, well if there are eight people coming, and I assume most of them are boys fresh out of college, we're probably going to end up with five bags of Fritos, one bottle of Pepsi, and a moldy apple pie from Stop 'n Shop. How can someone not give anyone any idea of what to bring?

BC: Okay, I'll ask.

Let this serve as the second foreshadowing of the shit show that is to come.

We didn't listen.

Anyway, she said to bring drinks or dessert. We figured since there were two of us, we would bring one of each. Good, settled.

At 5:45 on Sunday night I was just starting to look up pumpkin pie recipes. While still in my pajamas. And when I saw that every pumpkin pie's prep time was at least an hour and a half, I thought to myself: "We are totally screwed."

BC thought we could bring some goat cheese that he'd gotten at a farm a little while back, but we'd already opened it and eaten a slice, and at that point I was still cared about my dignity and thought it would seem tacky.

So we started getting dressed, making jokes about bringing the leftover soup in the fridge, or some gum or something...I even got out the entertaining Bible:

...and flipped to the emergency section, "Uninvited guests," to see if I could get an idea for a last-minute dessert. Her only suggestion was a cake fashioned out of cold cuts. Unfortunately, we only had half a pound of turkey, so that wasn't going to happen.

After deciding we couldn't fake our own deaths, we decided we'd head out with the cider and stop at a liquor store on the way and just buy another bottle of wine.

WAIT. I am forgetting the next most important bit. We didn't know where she lived. The address was never provided, and an e-mail BC sent to her last week asking for the location yielded no results. WTF. So BC called her midday to find out exactly where we were going, which produced entertaining sin #3000. If you live in the middle of BFE, do not invite people to your house. Especially if those people are poor and have no motor vehicles to get to your isolated abandoned dwelling.

Twenty minutes before dinner was slated to start we Googled the address. It was about a mile and half from our house. Nice. And there was no public transportation. Even nicer. Whatever. We got our cider, I put on my jacket, and out we went. About three-quarters of a mile into the walk, we passed a Star Market - the dirty cousin of Shaw's. I declared to BC that I thought we would find nothing on the dark road we were heading down, especially in the way of open liquor stores in puritanical Massachusetts on a Sunday night, so I voted we go in Star Market and buy some kind of dessert. Good.

I will not repeat the words that came out of my mouth when I walked into the bakery section. I will however say that they began with "F" and ended with "uck me." There was some old stale bread, a couple pies that looked like they'd fallen off the bakery truck and rolled around on I-90 where a couple dumptrucks ran them over before they ended up in the bakery department. There were also some cookies the color of things I've never even seen in nature. There's something about green, orange, and black sugar cookies with red sprinkles that just freaks me out a little. Just when I thought I'd have to buy a box of Twinkies, I found a refrigerated case with some variety cheesecakes and a couple bakery cakes. I chose a Triple chocolate cake with a bunch of white chocolate shavings on top that looked like paint chips. At that point I didn't care though. If we were bringing dessert, we were bringing dessert, regardless of whether it looked like a deteriorating farmhouse.

So we had our cake and cider in tow and after only another couple minutes and about a gallon of sweat rolling down my back, we were there.

Now, before I take you inside Satan's lair, I should explain that BC's friend and I....we aren't exactly bosom buddies. We've had a few awkward interactions, and I've said some choice words in private to BC, but other than that, in the grand scheme of things there are people I dislike much more than this person.

Knock, knock, knock, and smilllle.

The door opens, and the first sense sense that is teased is the sense of smell, and it is the smell of burning. And I think to myself, run. Run as fast as you can. But my feet start moving forward, I enter the lair, and the deadbolt is turned. So is sealed my fate.

Now in order to get the full sense of this place, I am going to show you a series of pictures that best illustrate the decorating scheme.

Her bedroom:

The living room:

The couch:

The kitchen:

The roommates:

The decor:

Little did I know that by stepping into the apartment I was entering some kind of space time continuum warp that would send me straight to Animal House.

Before we made our way to the eating area, the host opened the oven to reveal dinner and asked me, "Do you think these are done?" The smell of pungent burning still in my nose, "Yes," I replied. "Yes, I definitely think they are done."

The host directed us to the eating area:

which turned out to be the back porch. We sat on various pieces of furniture meant for office buildings and country kitchens, which had been converted into outdoor seating. There were five or six candles burning and a half-burned out string of Christmas lights hanging from the upstairs porch, so luckily it was dark enough to hide my expression most of the time.

BC and I were scolded for arriving five minutes late. I think the host was joking. Either way, dinner wasn't served until 7:45 - just in time for indigestion to set in before bedtime. The meal consisted of pasta (there was a lengthy discussion between a guest and the host, who declared the amount she made was more than enough to feed eight people. When I looked in the pot, it revealed about the same amount I make for BC and me when we have spaghetti.) There was red sauce served with it. It came out of a jar and someone dumped what the host described as "tons of little green specks into it to give it flavor." Looking around that house, I didn't want to know what exactly the green specks were. I just hoped for the best, gagged it down, and prayed there wouldn't be a surprise drug test at work on Monday. There were also roasted "vegetables." These were actually good, except for the fact that it was probably ten red skinned potatoes, one pepper, and a couple pieces of cauliflower. Again, the host said she usually just roasts them plain, but that another of the guests put "a bunch of green things on them to add flavor." As someone who is not a kitchen snob, but someone who is not a complete retard, the fact that she was calling oregano and rosemary "little green things" on a semi-regular basis throughout the night pretty much made me want to do a head dive off the porch. If only it had been more that three feet off the ground...

We sat outside - on the porch - with our carb fests balanced on our laps. We had to find the silverware ourselves. And I had finished my entire meal before the host said, "I'm going to put Parmesan cheese on mine."

Now for the bad part.

Trying to hold a conversation with several of these people is like walking into the woods and trying to talk to a piece of moss. Or a piece of bark. There's nothing there. No sign of social convention. No subjects of interest. In fact you can't be sure you're looking at a living thing unless you stand still and watch see if it will grow over a period of time.

I should note that the connection between most of these people was that they went to undergrad together, so for most of the night they reminisced about undergrad days. That is fine. I know Torch and I make fun of people who talk about college and high school like it was the greatest thing that ever happened to them, but we all do it. That is fine. But what really irked me was when the host said to the only other person who didn't go to undergrad with them, "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you're the only one who didn't go to school with us."

I raised my hand a bit and said, "Well, I didn..." Boom, cut off by the host. Okay.

At another point one of the guests asked me what I do. I explained that I work in publishing, and he, being the only one within a 500-foot radius with a sense of humor, replied, "Oh, do you operate the press, like punch out all the pages individually?"

Deciding to run with it: "Yes," I replied. "Manual labor. That's what I get the big bucks for."

<Insert the sound of crickets here>

"I thought they had machines that do that nowadays," replied the host, looking me dead in the face.

For her own benefit, I assumed she was making a joke, so I went on to say, "Nope, I have to do it by h..." Boom, cut off again.

That is when I quit. For the rest of dinner I sat on the porch in the dark and listened to them hero worship the Ivy League. I felt a little bit better when the host announced that she almost failed a lower elementary grade because she "didn't play well with others," which sent me into an internal fit of glee that morphed into choking. But from there it was pretty much a social reject's free-for-all.

At one point BC gestured at the unopened bottle of cider we brought and suggested I have a glass or two to grease the wheels, but as I pointed out, it was only 5.6% and there was only a liter of it, so unless he had a bottle of Absinthe and 1200 milligrams of morphine in his pocket, this ship was going down.

I should take this opportunity to point out that BC and I were the only ones who brought anything to the "potluck." Apparently we were the only ones told it was a potluck. So when the host informed us that two of the people who were so late they missed dinner were on their way with cake, I just about blew a gasket.

Before my aneurysm could fully explode, someone suggested we go inside and watch the Red Sox game. I said a little prayer of thanks, and as we headed inside I noticed the candles. As I walked past one I thought to myself, "Self, this is your last hope. Perhaps she will forget to extinguish the candles and while we're inside one of them will fall over and the house will catch on fire, and as the fire department is fighting the blaze, you can make a clean escape." I actually got butterflies at that thought.

And then she started to blow them out. And it was like that moment in Count of Monte Cristo when the ceiling caves in on the old guy. He's been digging the tunnel for fifty some odd years, and in one fell swoop his dreams of freedom are crushed.

We made our way into the living room and started to take our seats to watch the game. I settled on a kitchen chair that had a few pieces of someone's homework literally stuck to the seat. There was a lengthy conversation about why people hate the Red Sox now, which I could have added leaps and bounds to, but chose to sit and pout instead, figuring that whatever I had to add would be shut down faster than T radio.

Flashback.... (harps)

Earlier this year I was at a gathering with a similar group of BC's friends that included some of the same people from the dinner party. We were playing a game called Kings that involves flipping over one card at a time, and as the card is flipped various tasks have to be performed among players. For example, when one card in particular is flipped, the flipper names a category and you have to go around the circle and name something in that category. During this particular round, the category was states, and when it got to the girl next to me, she said "Massachusetts." Well, being among the intelligentsia as it were, I challenged her and said, "Massachusetts isn't a state; it's a commonwealth." My first mistake was assuming that intelligence equaled wit, a sense of humor, and creativity. My second mistake was continuing to participate in the game even after the people around the tables looked at me like so...

and proceeded to tell me, "We don't play like that."

A commonwealth...as in, like a state, but with a different name. Anyone? No? Okay.

They let Massachusetts slide after the person who said it was a state looked at me like I killed her first born. (And may I point out that she's from Massachusetts?! That is not a joke.)

So instead of ending the round, we just kept going with states. After that 15-car pile-up, it was my turn, so I said, "Ohio," deciding against trying to blow their minds with my original answer of "sad" (state of being). Within a nanosecond one of the girls opposite me was on her feet, crawling up my ass yelling, "She already said Ohio, she already said Ohio!!!!!!! You lose, you lose!" (Did I mention it's against the rules to repeat what someone else has already said?)

I mustered up as much grace and suave as I could, sequestered it somewhere deep in my being, went to my feet and yelled at the top of my lungs, "I'M SORRY! I GUESS I MUST BE SOME KIND OF FUCKING IDIOT!" As though that weren't bad enough, I exited the circle, stomped into the kitchen and went into the basement, where I stayed for the rest of the night, refusing to come back upstairs.

End flashback.....(harps)

That memory still fresh in my mind, I decided to stay out of the Red Sox conversation for fear of embarrassing myself in a way that would, if possible, trump that earlier performance. Luckily the potential Cleveland had of winning that game kept my temper at bay quite easily, until the couple with the cake arrived...

Just imagine them holding a cake.

The host cut the cake and grudgingly said she'd get cake plates down. Initially she suggested we all use our dinner plates (? because there's nothing that goes better with coffee cake than Prego?). This she said was because she didn't want to do dishes. "Anyone want to stay and help me do dishes?" she then asked. Again, not sure if she was joking or not. And not sure if she knew whether she was joking or not. Under normal circumstances, I would have said yes, even though it is extremely tacky to ask your guests, who you've just served chewy pasta and cold Ragu sauce, to wash your dishes for you. Also, had I been a little more bold or perhaps had a fifth of whiskey in my bloodstream, I would have suggested she just leave them on the counter, as I'm sure they'd either blend in with the rest of the trash, or the HAZMAT team and the DEA wouldn't mind looking at a few dirty dishes before condemning the building.

Back to the living room. The coneheads sat down. The male conehead sat directly between me and the TV. So I scooted to the right. His girlfriend went to sit down, so he scooted directly in front of me. I mulled over, "As visually stunning as your fat head is, Eugene, I'd really like to watch the baseball game," decided against it and scooted over again. As did he. I looked at BC, at which time he said, "Want to go?" As much as I wanted to stay, I agreed. BC ever-so-suavely said we'd really wanted to stay longer, but that we both needed to get up early the next morning. I smiled. The host smiled. BC and I proclaimed the pasta and Ragu to be the best thing we'd ever eaten as we unstuck ourselves from the furniture. I grabbed the cake, still in its Star Market bag, and made for the street like a bat outta hell. It wasn't until we got outside that I realized we forgot the unopened cider. Damn, DAMN. But BC in his crafty ways apparently foresaw this, realizing no one had noticed the cider, and snuck into the backyard and grabbed the cider off the porch, where he had strategically placed it for just such an exit.

I swore in my head that I would not trash talk BC's friends up and down the whole walk home, and I made it almost four minutes without saying anything. Then he and I both launched into unbelievabledom, reminding ourselves that we go to these shindigs to remind ourselves why we are still dating each other and not them.

The rest of the night included laying on the couch in our pajamas watching the Red Sox while eating triple chocolate cake. And the cider fit perfectly in our newly hung wine racks.

All in all, what have I learned from this experience? When in a pinch, just bring the goat cheese. When you're eating on the back porch by Christmas-light, no one will be able to tell it's already open anyway.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

This person was an elderly lady in desperate need of a car to get her through until she could get another one. Her van was dead and she needed a car yesterday. She had $400 in her pocket on Friday but I didn't have the title, so I told her to meet me back at work in an hour and I would have it for her.

So I go home and get everything I needed, including my wife in her car for a ride back. We sat there and waited for 30 minutes before leaving and going to dinner. We came back around 7:30pm, an hour and a half after she said she would be there, and there was nothing. Great, I just burned a bunch of gas for absolutely no damn reason. Made my day.

Yesterday, she calls to find out about the car - no excuse for not showing up. Her van is now completely dead and she wants the car. I don't have the title with me, so I tell her she'll have to wait until Tuesday. I'm not running home and back just to have the same crap pulled on me. Elderly or not I don't care, that was rude.

Today came and off I went to work with the title in hand, in a sealed manila envelope. I called to confirm that she was indeed coming to pickup the car, and after finally catching her on the phone (second time's a charm in this case) she agrees and says she will be there in about 20 minutes.

Great! I go out and warm up the car so that she doesn't get scared off when it doesn't start right up. Dealers do this too, so stop thinking what you're thinking. I want this car sold yesterday. I let it run for a bit and start to head back inside when I realize something that makes my blood run cold: the windshield wiper arm has never been fixed.

The arm has a tendency to come off the motor head after being in continual use for about a minute, and it was raining today. The last thing I needed was for someone to buy my car and have an accident because of something I could have repaired but didn't. I've driven with the arm detached and lying under the top of the hood, and that is not only dangerous but extremely difficult to do. So off I go to Advanced Auto to get some JB Weld. Easy enough, it's less than a mile from work.

That's taken care of, now to go back in and waste some time at my desk waiting for her to show up. When it's about time for her to show, I look out the window and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I wait until it's almost time to go home, and I see a car resembling the white Honda she said she would be coming in. It slowed to a near-stop in the road next to the parking lot, paused, and then drove off. I waited a bit longer and no one came close to the car so I assume that was her. Her son, who was driving, probably took one look at my car and refused to look at it for her.

I can't blame him, only an idiot or someone looking to pimp out an old ride would buy my heap of shit car. It's only really worth somewhere between $300-500 but to me it's worth a lot more than that. It doesn't feel that way when I'm at the pump or when I'm driving it half the time, but it is. Be that as it may, I need to get rid of it.

If no one buys it and I get to the point that I am going to get another car, I'm going to take it to a friend's house and beat the ever-living dog shit out of it. I'm going to bust out all of the windows, shatter the windshield, slash the tires, and set it on fire. Then I'm going to take a shotgun and fill it full of holes. I'll either get some money out of it in cash or I'll take it out of its fenders - either way works for me.

This was an interesting post by Ann Althouse regarding women and humor.  I was glad to see it because that subject has always intrigued me, as I am often a goofball and immediately stifle myself when I am being too comedic as though I've forsaken my femininity.  I think a lot of women feel this way, as though being funny is somehow unladylike.  Why is that?  Is it instinct or a learned behavior?  Maybe the feminine mystique is our main attraction, as masculine virility is for males, and intelligent humor is merely their instinctual way of "spitting game" to initiate interaction, which many may find overly assertive roleplay for women.  What a waste to downplay the feminine perspective and wit.  ;)

 http://althouse.blogspot.com/2007/03/women-can-be-hilarious-but-fewer-of.html#comments

In light of the recent gaffe by Ann Coulter, I can't help but ponder what's going on in our society, and not just in politics and the media, either.  What is in order is not correction to only Ms. Coulter but to American society in general --

Let's be civil.

And in particular to this nasty situation, I would rather be publicly called any derogatory -- yes, even that "f" word -- than "offensive."  Ms. Coulter, you were out of line.  Respect is due even if you disagree with his politics.  Civility calls for it.

I have asked myself throughout my lifetime what it is in some people that makes us immediately reverent of them, what makes some people just command respect, what causes some to have reputations that precede them, what makes them so influential.  There are too few of them, but they make a lasting impression on us when we meet them.  Some may think of Billy Graham or Mother Teresa (like I do), even Arthur Ash (he just sticks out in my memory as one of them).  We sometimes are lucky enough to meet a few of these people in our lifetime.  They know when to express their thoughts, they are disciplined and know when to hold their tongue.  They are consistent and even-keel, unflappable, and always mannerly.  When something questionable occurs, they are the face that people look to to gauge the gravity of the situation.  When prayer begins, they are the ones we look to begin it.  When some disagreement occurs between loved ones, they are the ones to whom the matter is brought and who quietly counsels others to do what is right.  Their occupation, their social standing, their education have little to do with others' esteem for them.  They seem to have the secret to making others feel important while having opinions that are not only respected but are sought out. 

 Every great society has intellectuals that can participate in deep and complex arguments and even win, those who can display their knowledge and experience for all of us to exclaim their brilliance.  We will never run low on intellectuals, pundits, orators, people with ideas and great thoughts.  Any great society is chock full of brilliance in every area -- academia, politics, the arts, literature, and media -- but...

What we lack in today's society is the commonplace practice of civility.  I doubt that many of us even know what "civility" is.  It is, simply put, common decency -- polite behavior, courteous acts and speech.  Is it really so hard? 

 It is painfully clear in the current political climate just how low our society has sunk when even the educated, the esteemed can lower America's morale with their indiscretions and rawness.  There is such a thing as presenting differing points of view without insulting another.  Today, even our progressives and leaders of thought are unnecessarily brusque, blunt, and seem more bent on getting reactions from their listeners than with actually expressing fresh or intelligent ideas.

I believe that we are beginning to wake up to the fact that our Founding Fathers indeed had the secrets of success -- civility and character.  Where are sensitivity and understanding of the nuances in dealing with all people?  Civility is indeed an art, a skill honed with much practice and discipline.  It is adopting a conscious practice to be aware of others' perceptions of us, which is internalized to make us behave with consistency, rationality, discretion, and, above all else, propriety.  Great attention is paid to detail and appearance to project an understated, polished person. The aim is to make one easy to get on with, a respector of all persons, a diplomat in all circumstances, and never so comfortable in oneself that one is not careful of his effect on others. The result is a demeanor and even a countenance that cannot be acted or faked, that exude contentment and peace.

While feeling disgusted by the cattiness displayed in the media last week (specifically the Coulter/Edwards event), I remembered back to something that I had read when I was young that left an indelible impression on me.  This piece that left such a mark on my psyche was a list of 110 rules written out by George Washington at age 14.  To have compiled this list, he must have been a keen observer of people, a person who was interested in achieving others' respect and being perceived as respectable.  I recall reading the list and thinking, "Gee, it is just common sense in getting along with others."  This is exactly what "civility" has come to mean to me.

Civility, to me, is wisdom in dealing with others, being able to satisfy your interests while practicing the old rule of thumb and asking yourself before speaking/doing, "Is it true?  Is it kind/fair?  Is it necessary?"  This is what I teach my children.  Practicing that rule filters out all of the: gossip, pettiness, meanness, obscenity, pride, anger, flattery, fluff, and filler.    

So, for not only Ms. Coulter but all of us, here is that comprehensive list -- written by a teenager, mind you -- that, though seemingly humorous on some points, is totally true and, I believe, flawless.  And what memorizing holy scripture does for us spiritually -- "rendering unto God that which is God's" -- I think that practicing these rules in society would do us just as well.  It's part of "rendering unto Caesar that which is Caesar's," and respecting the world around us since we are all citizens.  It wouldn't hurt to carry a copy of this around in our pockets to glance over when we're out and dealing with people, as well as to mention to our children at the dinner table or in the car, wherever.  The world would be a much nicer place for it.  So read it!: 

The Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation

OK, a little puritanical by today's standards, but what ARE today's standards? By George, all that wisdom and maturity from a teenager?  Well, Washington WAS an exceptional one.  And the next time I get the itch to buy a bestselling book by some contemporary like Coulter, I think that I'll just go back to some of the writings by the truly great, tempered minds of our past -- Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln -- who proved their intellect while practicing civility.

Cited: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1248919