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(no subject) [Mar. 6th, 2005|01:01 am]
I have abandoned this journal
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ramble [Aug. 15th, 2004|02:37 pm]
+I love my squad
+I finished my job
+I leave for san fran at 3am on sunday
+I am real sick today
+I am ready to party at the dominican festival
+I hope I don't get burned out at wes
+I don't understand how soon college is
+I finally got my mass ID
+I regret not attending the marley after party
+I wish my parents would stop talking about money
+I think I'm going to get a piercing in sanfran
+I dislike the heat
+I miss art
+I think it's funny how well people sell themselves on the effing internet
+I never ranted about bill cosby

bill cosby: speaks the truth about the problems plauging the black community; however, simplifies the issues to an extreme which is highly dangerous as a public figure (not to mention the spokesperson for all blacks/black men for white people). yes, teenage pregnancy, illteracy, displaced anger, child negligence, infidelity, and drug trafficing are serious problems, but is it reasonable to put the majority of the responsibility of said problems on the shoulders of the black community? obviously personal responsibility plays a major role in the lives of individuals, but let's not forget about the calculated systems of disadvantage inherent in this nations system that leave no options or choice for the average black man to lead a healthy, fulfilling life. where does the gov't put all the liquor stores? where does the gov't dispatch all the police? where does the gov't place all the military recuiters? who does the gov't refuse to give health care, financial aid, or stipends to? and if you think the 'welfare reform' programs in place in this country are at all a good idea, think again. they either make you dependent on the govt's dirty money or they leave you poor and hungry. my concern is that for all of the white people watching tv in their living room who want to believe so much in the inherent laziness of blacks (consciously or subconsciously), it is such a pleasure for them to be fed evidence and support from a highly respected black man. of course, the moral is, educated people tend to view life and it's problems through a lense where easy solutions are abundant and where personal responsibilty is the be all end all cure. I hate to talk about the 'revolution' or the overthrow of capitalism and all that esoteric crap, but hey- you can't just put bandaids on gushing wounds people, I think we've done that enough. we must be accountable for our own actions while fighting the systems that so clearly and incessantly oppress us.

also, as a disclaimer: no, I don't think it's fair that bill cosby is the spokesperson for black people, specifically black men, but as people of color in this country, we don't have the luxury of chosing whether or not we want to represent our entire race. he has every right to speak his mind; but like any celebrity, must be aware of the power/effect his words have on the world around him.
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(no subject) [Aug. 8th, 2004|03:01 am]
the revoltuion shall start with a dance party

tonight was a much needed release from a rather stressful status quo, if you will

blaze it up!
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(no subject) [Jul. 20th, 2004|11:58 pm]
.we have lost our collective mind.
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crouching tiger hidden..isa? [Jul. 9th, 2004|06:30 pm]
Last night I tapped into my inner wind hopping abilities. I can't disclose too much information because it's one of those 'family' secrets. right. I had a solid night last night that involved the following things: 40s, matthew john wilson, a birthday boy, a roof, aviators, and fog. It was also comforting to know that people are embracing our antifa sponsored 'anti-cancer' bbq. Yes, anti-cancer, because we can all agree that cancer is a horrible, horrible thing even if we don't exactly see eye to eye on issues of zionism or fascism. I know, we're geniuses'

I am so tired from sitting at this reception desk, I can't feel my butt anymore. It reaches a certain point when it's beyond numb or asleep, it just feels invisible. That's what I said people, it 'feels' invisible. And for the love of god, does ANYONE know the joey macntyre song about self esteem?

note to self: in the next entry talk about bill cosby. my reaction to his comments on the black community are quite mixed, but I think i've drawn some fair conclusions on the matter.

isa's moment of zen:

michael jordan, oprah winfrey hit me hit me
dr. huxtable, help us build a hospital
michael jackon, we need 'bout 50 thousand
bob and whitney hit me hit me

(dead prez, of course)
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ehhem [Jul. 8th, 2004|06:24 pm]
also real quick, to dispell any rumors:

yesterday uruguay TIED with mexico 2-2

just because mexicans' pride > uruguayans' pride doesn't mean we're losers, alright?
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update this [Jul. 8th, 2004|04:21 pm]
my life updated in one word: work

you spend weeks and weeks running around the city applying to any job you can get only to return home and wait for a promised phone call from a potential boss, and it never comes. so now I have a job, one that is enjoyable and pays, so I am thrilled enough about that. of course, with the hours of 11-8 it is difficult to have any other expectations for this summer other than earning/making money. I figure my payback will manifest itself in the fall at wesleyan, but who knows.

it seems to be birthday season, so it has been a time of great celebration. of course, my birthday remains a ways away and I feel younger and younger as each day passes.

I wish I had some hidden talent in writing cohesive entries, but alas, I don't. I have reached the conclusion that english will be a dead language in a few years. well maybe not dead, but in all seriousness I hear spanish far more frequently than I do english. everyone at work speaks spanish, and everyone outside of work does too, especially on the train. I forget that people have a genuine problem with people speaking their respective languages when they aren't english, as if english were the national language. maybe I should send a nation-wide memo that the US doesn't have a national language, because I don't think anyone's grasped that quite yet.

my friend at work has to take a legalization test in the next couple of weeks, here are some of the questions/answers, hopefully you'll get a good laugh:

55. Why did the Pilgrims come to America?
A: For religious freedom

69. What did the Emancipation Proclamation do?
A: Freed many slaves

73. Who helped the Pilgrims in America?
A: The American Indians (Native Americans) ***clear compensation for #55)

79. Which President freed the slaves?
A: Abraham Lincoln

hmmm, so that's what a noble (and legal) US citizen knows. I feel smarter and more patriotic already.

you know what they say, 'back to work'
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prisoners [Jun. 2nd, 2004|03:57 pm]
Because I don't have the strength to post any of these pictures on my journal, I'll give you the link to witness them for yourselves: http://thememoryhole.org/war/iraqis_tortured/

This country is run by sick bastards; a blind person needs no more proof than this.

We are the people of the defense mechanisms, how much more can we rationalize, how much more can we justify what is irrefutably evil? Is it not sick that our response to these images is an attempt to explain their existence? Repression is not acceptable at this rate. We are in love with comparable suffering, with convincing ourselves of our innocence by pointing fingers at other countries' atrocities. There are a million explanations, a million reaons, a million regrets. It seems that every morning I wake up, this country is becoming a new kind of Holocaust.

We are driven by fear and thanks to the government, we have new reasons to be afraid. Anti-Americanism is at an all time climax, and it has no intention of decreasing.

My resentment towards this country, towards this administration is visceral, instinctual, and raw. The only path to liberation is the path of the self, the path of the people. I do not seek comfort in Kerry or any other politician- politicans, by nature, are almost impossible to trust. My struggle to be a free spirit, just got a little harder.

La lucha SIGUE!
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I always loved Vonnegut [Jun. 1st, 2004|06:45 pm]
c'mon guys read it- I know it's long but he knows what he's talking about, and listening to our elders is of utmost importance, even if kids take them for granted every day the passes.

Cold Turkey

by Kurt Vonnegut

May 12, 2004 | In These Times

Many years ago, I was so innocent I still considered
it possible that we could become the humane and
reasonable America so many members of my generation
used to dream of. We dreamed of such an America during
the Great Depression, when there were no jobs. And
then we fought and often died for that dream during
the Second World War, when there was no peace.

But I know now that there is not a chance in hell of
America’s becoming humane and reasonable. Because
power corrupts us, and absolute power corrupts
absolutely. Human beings are chimpanzees who get crazy
drunk on power. By saying that our leaders are
power-drunk chimpanzees, am I in danger of wrecking
the morale of our soldiers fighting and dying in the
Middle East? Their morale, like so many bodies, is
already shot to pieces. They are being treated, as I
never was, like toys a rich kid got for Christmas.


When you get to my age, if you get to my age, which is
81, and if you have reproduced, you will find yourself
asking your own children, who are themselves
middle-aged, what life is all about. I have seven
kids, four of them adopted.

Many of you reading this are probably the same age as
my grandchildren. They, like you, are being royally
shafted and lied to by our Baby Boomer corporations
and government.

I put my big question about life to my biological son
Mark. Mark is a pediatrician, and author of a memoir,
The Eden Express. It is about his crackup,
straightjacket and padded cell stuff, from which he
recovered sufficiently to graduate from Harvard
Medical School.

Dr. Vonnegut said this to his doddering old dad:
“Father, we are here to help each other get through
this thing, whatever it is.” So I pass that on to you.
Write it down, and put it in your computer, so you can
forget it.

I have to say that’s a pretty good sound bite, almost
as good as, “Do unto others as you would have them do
unto you.” A lot of people think Jesus said that,
because it is so much the sort of thing Jesus liked to
say. But it was actually said by Confucius, a Chinese
philosopher, 500 years before there was that greatest
and most humane of human beings, named Jesus Christ.

The Chinese also gave us, via Marco Polo, pasta and
the formula for gunpowder. The Chinese were so dumb
they only used gunpowder for fireworks. And everybody
was so dumb back then that nobody in either hemisphere
even knew that there was another one.

But back to people, like Confucius and Jesus and my
son the doctor, Mark, who’ve said how we could behave
more humanely, and maybe make the world a less painful
place. One of my favorites is Eugene Debs, from Terre
Haute in my native state of Indiana. Get a load of

Eugene Debs, who died back in 1926, when I was only 4,
ran 5 times as the Socialist Party candidate for
president, winning 900,000 votes, 6 percent of the
popular vote, in 1912, if you can imagine such a
ballot. He had this to say while campaigning:

As long as there is a lower class, I am in it.
As long as there is a criminal element, I’m of it.
As long as there is a soul in prison, I am not

Doesn’t anything socialistic make you want to throw
up? Like great public schools or health insurance for

How about Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes?

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called
the children of God. …

And so on.

Not exactly planks in a Republican platform. Not
exactly Donald Rumsfeld or Dick Cheney stuff.

For some reason, the most vocal Christians among us
never mention the Beatitudes. But, often with tears in
their eyes, they demand that the Ten Commandments be
posted in public buildings. And of course that’s
Moses, not Jesus. I haven’t heard one of them demand
that the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes, be
posted anywhere.

“Blessed are the merciful” in a courtroom? “Blessed
are the peacemakers” in the Pentagon? Give me a break!


There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution,
and I don’t know what can be done to fix it. This is
it: Only nut cases want to be president.

But, when you stop to think about it, only a nut case
would want to be a human being, if he or she had a
choice. Such treacherous, untrustworthy, lying and
greedy animals we are!

I was born a human being in 1922 A.D. What does “A.D.”
signify? That commemorates an inmate of this lunatic
asylum we call Earth who was nailed to a wooden cross
by a bunch of other inmates. With him still conscious,
they hammered spikes through his wrists and insteps,
and into the wood. Then they set the cross upright, so
he dangled up there where even the shortest person in
the crowd could see him writhing this way and that.

Can you imagine people doing such a thing to a person?

No problem. That’s entertainment. Ask the devout Roman
Catholic Mel Gibson, who, as an act of piety, has just
made a fortune with a movie about how Jesus was
tortured. Never mind what Jesus said.

During the reign of King Henry the Eighth, founder of
the Church of England, he had a counterfeiter boiled
alive in public. Show biz again.

Mel Gibson’s next movie should be The Counterfeiter.
Box office records will again be broken.

One of the few good things about modern times: If you
die horribly on television, you will not have died in
vain. You will have entertained us.


And what did the great British historian Edward
Gibbon, 1737-1794 A.D., have to say about the human
record so far? He said, “History is indeed little more
than the register of the crimes, follies and
misfortunes of mankind.”

The same can be said about this morning’s edition of
the New York Times.

The French-Algerian writer Albert Camus, who won a
Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957, wrote, “There is
but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that
is suicide.”

So there’s another barrel of laughs from literature.
Camus died in an automobile accident. His dates?
1913-1960 A.D.

Listen. All great literature is about what a bummer it
is to be a human being: Moby Dick, Huckleberry Finn,
The Red Badge of Courage, the Iliad and the Odyssey,
Crime and Punishment, the Bible and The Charge of the
Light Brigade.

But I have to say this in defense of humankind: No
matter in what era in history, including the Garden of
Eden, everybody just got there. And, except for the
Garden of Eden, there were already all these crazy
games going on, which could make you act crazy, even
if you weren’t crazy to begin with. Some of the games
that were already going on when you got here were love
and hate, liberalism and conservatism, automobiles and
credit cards, golf and girls’ basketball.

Even crazier than golf, though, is modern American
politics, where, thanks to TV and for the convenience
of TV, you can only be one of two kinds of human
beings, either a liberal or a conservative.

Actually, this same sort of thing happened to the
people of England generations ago, and Sir William
Gilbert, of the radical team of Gilbert and Sullivan,
wrote these words for a song about it back then:

I often think it’s comical
How nature always does contrive

That every boy and every gal
That’s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative.

Which one are you in this country? It’s practically a
law of life that you have to be one or the other? If
you aren’t one or the other, you might as well be a

If some of you still haven’t decided, I’ll make it
easy for you.

If you want to take my guns away from me, and you’re
all for murdering fetuses, and love it when
homosexuals marry each other, and want to give them
kitchen appliances at their showers, and you’re for
the poor, you’re a liberal.

If you are against those perversions and for the rich,
you’re a conservative.

What could be simpler?


My government’s got a war on drugs. But get this: The
two most widely abused and addictive and destructive
of all substances are both perfectly legal.

One, of course, is ethyl alcohol. And President George
W. Bush, no less, and by his own admission, was
smashed or tiddley-poo or four sheets to the wind a
good deal of the time from when he was 16 until he was
41. When he was 41, he says, Jesus appeared to him and
made him knock off the sauce, stop gargling nose

Other drunks have seen pink elephants.

And do you know why I think he is so pissed off at
Arabs? They invented algebra. Arabs also invented the
numbers we use, including a symbol for nothing, which
nobody else had ever had before. You think Arabs are
dumb? Try doing long division with Roman numerals.

We’re spreading democracy, are we? Same way European
explorers brought Christianity to the Indians, what we
now call “Native Americans.”

How ungrateful they were! How ungrateful are the
people of Baghdad today.

So let’s give another big tax cut to the super-rich.
That’ll teach bin Laden a lesson he won’t soon forget.
Hail to the Chief.

That chief and his cohorts have as little to do with
Democracy as the Europeans had to do with
Christianity. We the people have absolutely no say in
whatever they choose to do next. In case you haven’t
noticed, they’ve already cleaned out the treasury,
passing it out to pals in the war and national
security rackets, leaving your generation and the next
one with a perfectly enormous debt that you’ll be
asked to repay.

Nobody let out a peep when they did that to you,
because they have disconnected every burglar alarm in
the Constitution: The House, the Senate, the Supreme
Court, the FBI, the free press (which, having been
embedded, has forsaken the First Amendment) and We the

About my own history of foreign substance abuse. I’ve
been a coward about heroin and cocaine and LSD and so
on, afraid they might put me over the edge. I did
smoke a joint of marijuana one time with Jerry Garcia
and the Grateful Dead, just to be sociable. It didn’t
seem to do anything to me, one way or the other, so I
never did it again. And by the grace of God, or
whatever, I am not an alcoholic, largely a matter of
genes. I take a couple of drinks now and then, and
will do it again tonight. But two is my limit. No

I am of course notoriously hooked on cigarettes. I
keep hoping the things will kill me. A fire at one end
and a fool at the other.

But I’ll tell you one thing: I once had a high that
not even crack cocaine could match. That was when I
got my first driver’s license! Look out, world, here
comes Kurt Vonnegut.

And my car back then, a Studebaker, as I recall, was
powered, as are almost all means of transportation and
other machinery today, and electric power plants and
furnaces, by the most abused and addictive and
destructive drugs of all: fossil fuels.

When you got here, even when I got here, the
industrialized world was already hopelessly hooked on
fossil fuels, and very soon now there won’t be any
more of those. Cold turkey.

Can I tell you the truth? I mean this isn’t like TV
news, is it?

Here’s what I think the truth is: We are all addicts
of fossil fuels in a state of denial, about to face
cold turkey.

And like so many addicts about to face cold turkey,
our leaders are now committing violent crimes to get
what little is left of what we’re hooked on.

© 2004 In These Times
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elitism wins once again [May. 30th, 2004|03:52 pm]

Today, the revolution was born. It didn't come in the form of an armed revolt or in a guerilla street combat style battle, no- it came in the form of dodgeball, the most powerful weapon of the guards. It was time for Humanities to show up AP Psychology on the field like the souljahs they are. Humanities represented the guards, also known as the middle class in Howard Zinn's well known book The People's History of the United States. Zinn predicted a revolt of the guards - no longer shall the guards stand idly by, blindly accepting the monotony of everyday life and the explotation of their very being. And so, the Humanities team dressed themselves in the color red, for red is the color of Psychology students' blood running through the streets of Wellesley. It is the color of anarchy, of revolution, of the autonomy and liberation. Their home-made uniforms read "the guards- the power of the middle class" with painted tattoos on their forearms that read: class war, which are now sunburned into their skin, only proving/reinforcing their dedication to the uprisal. The sun was fierce, beating on the backs of the guards' neck, but no interference no matter how great could stop this domination, this movement. Humanities members were met with double the amount of Psych students, all athletes - disorganized and aloof. It was time to prove the athletic capabilities of all art students around the world. The power of the paint brush. Intimidation tactics started early as the guards began with laps around the field, organized stretching, and a circle formation with a break on the word: "revolution!". The Psychology students, being inferior chose the chant "level one". Ironically, their status as AP students did not display any level of higher intelligence as they simply could not pick up on any references to important books by Zinn, Shlessinger, and McIntosh. On the other hand, Humanities students were well versed in Psych terminology. The guards were equipped with not only the power of the middle class, but also the power of psychology or psychops. The game itself was broken down into three parts. Part one consisted of the Psych students also referred to as the bourgeois or the establishment, hogging balls- exploiting team mates and leaving fallen comrades imprisoned with no attempts made to free them. It appeared as though the Psych students were accurately reflecting their position in society, as greedy corporate bastards. Interestingly enough, the men dominated the game on the team Psych, while the women stepped up in Humanities, proving the fierce intimidation of women dodgeball athletes. Let it be known, there is nothing cute about revolutionary dodgeball women. Part Two was pure Humanities domination. With half as many players, Humanities managed to take out all put two Psych students, it was truly a sight to behold. Comrades in jail took it upon themselves to throw as many balls to hard working guards as possible. There were some beautiful catches, but above all touching team work. Jail solidarity was also impressive. Comrades recited the five pillars of Islam, the paradox on immigration, the theory of the guards, the ten points of the black panther party, and other educational information to distract the ignorant artistocrats. Their cerebrel cortex's were not functioning and their myelin sheaths we're having difficulty speeding up transmission. Part Three the Bourgeois tried their best to dominate, but no guard so much as thought of surrendering. It was a fight to the finish. The guards were not defeated (as if that were somehow possible). Simply put, the guards owned the establishment - the way it was written in Zinn's closing chapter. As proven by the self fullfilling prophecy, the guards were confident from start to finish that the revolution would end with the power in the hands of the people. Emotions were running high as the reality that post-revolution has arrived and liberation and reform has officially begun. Break the chains of oppression through dodgeball. Each one teach one. Don't be a snitch and remember to always throw a fallen comrade a ball when in the end zone, also known as the prison industrial complex.

The revolution came, where were you when shit went down?

The scoreboard

radical elitism (the guards): 1

oppressive bourgeois/artistocrats (the establishment): 0

(Conclusion: Isa rocked the house at dodgeball/spirit for her team. I came up with a motivating, elitist title "the guards" that proved to be the write formula for victory. My sunburn reads class war on my forearms, and that's just about as hardcore as it comes. Art students/activists play hard - don't be decieved by our politics. BEOTCH!)

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